Page 30 of Betting on the Best Friend
“Me and you?”
He nods. “And whoever the girls stick you with next.”
“You want me to go out with you and Sydney and bring a perfect stranger?” I say it like it’s slightly ridiculous, but if my next dude is another dud—and so far, that’s the pattern—at least I can entertain myself by watching his date with Sydney.
“Why not?” he says. “Kind of takes the pressure off, you know?”
I can see a few potential problems with this plan, like my next blind date might feel awkward to be the only stranger in a group of four. But that’s not my problem. I’m not going to pass up a front-row seat to watching Charlie in action.
“Good idea,” I say. “I’ll text the girls to let them know whoever fixes me up next, it’s going to be a double date.”
“Cool.” He turns to his monitor, the whole thing settled in his Chill Charlie way.
I like this plan. No matter who they set me up with next, I’ll be hanging out with Charlie, and who wouldn’t want to do that? Charlie makes everything better.
He’s even making me look forward to another blind date.
Chapter Twelve
Charlie
I can’t believe Rubymade it so easy to put the double-date idea in motion.
“You nervous?” Ruby asks as we walk into Cosmic Lanes.
We haven’t reached the doors yet, and I stop on the sidewalk and look down at myself. “Should I be? Fit check.”
I hold out my arms and do a slow turn. I know I look good. I’m giving Ruby a chance to notice that the cut of my vintage Hawaiian shirt makes my chest and shoulders look broader. That I know how to pick the right jeans. That I’ve gained twenty pounds of muscle over the last year.
I complete the rotation and wait for her verdict.
“You did good, Charlie.” Her eyes trace my shoulders. Does she realize how often she does that?
“Same, Ruby Slippers.” I say it sincerely like I would to a date, not a friend I’m pumping up for a blind date. “Mitch is a lucky man.”
“His name is Mike.” There’s a faint rise of color in her cheeks, and she looks down and brushes something invisible from her Alamo Drafthouse T-shirt. She’s wearing it beneath a pinkcardigan with a skinny belt over it and with cropped jeans. She sneaks a look at me from beneath her long lashes and glances away when she catches me studying her.
I allow myself a twitch of a smile.Stay safe but become less comfortable. Check.
“Right, Mike,” I say. “Are you nervous to meet him?”
It’s been a few days since Sydney surprised me with her pitch to be my wingman. Sami had set Ruby up with this Mike guy, a sound engineer at one of the venues Pixie Luna plays. He was up for a double date with people he didn’t know on the condition that he had to be done in time to work the soundboard for a show tonight.
That’s why Ruby and I are walking into a bowling alley late on Saturday afternoon. The plan is to bowl a couple of games and end with dinner rather than start with it.
“I don’t know if nervous is the right word,” she says. “I do feel like I have an audience.”
“Sydney and I can get our own lane,” I tell her. “She and I have talked enough that we’re comfortable. She’ll understand if you don’t want to feel like you’re under a microscope.”
“Stay,” she says, gripping my forearm like I’m about to physically walk away. She looks down at her hand, gives my arm a light squeeze, and lets go.
“Are you checking to see if I’m ripe?”
“Your arms are . . .” She trails off and shakes her head. “I’d rather have a small audience. At least with four of us, there’s less awkward silences.”
“Should we get in there and make sure our dates aren’t waiting for us awkwardly?”
We walk in and Ruby scans for Mike. She’s seen his Instagram, but he told her he’d wear a Pixie Luna T-shirt to make it easier for them to find each other. She spots him near the entrance to the arcade, and she gives me a subtle eye flare to communicatehere we go. I nod, but I don't see their meet cute because Sydney calls my name.
