The Love Wager by Lynn Painter

            And if that was the case, he couldn’t bare his soul to her and risk losing her as a friend.

            He quickly shaved, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair before getting dressed, and when he walked out of the bathroom and looked at her in that dress again, leaning back on the bed and looking at her phone, his necktie felt like it was strangling him.

            His phone buzzed as he slid his feet into his dress shoes, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

            Hallie: Don’t let this go to your head, but you look handsome AF. Like, I want to call you beautiful, but I feel like you’ll be insulted.

            Jack tried to swallow, but his throat was fucked up all of a sudden.

            He texted back: Are you ready to go, TB?

            He kept his eyes on his phone but heard her giggle as she texted: I am. But I feel like I should warn you—your girlfriend gets a little handsy when she drinks wine.

            He couldn’t not grin, and he responded with: Then I feel like I should warn YOU—when my girlfriend gets handsy, I usually find the nearest broom closet or elevator and make her scream.

            He did look at her then, half smiling because he knew he’d shut her up, and he instantly regretted it. Because first, her mouth dropped open and her cheeks got red; the response he’d been shooting for. But then—holy balls—she puckered her crimson lips, tilted her head, looked him straight in the face, and raised an interested eyebrow.

            Fuck my life, he thought, as he pulled open the door and held it for her.





Chapter

TWENTY



Hallie


            “So we want the bridal party out in the hallway,” Hallie’s mother shouted, “and everyone else in the ballroom.”

            Hallie rolled her eyes and said to Jack, who was holding her hand and patiently waiting for the rehearsal to get under way, “I’ll be back.”

            “I’ll be in the ballroom, apparently.”

            She started pulling away, but he jerked her back and kissed the tip of her nose. His eyes were warm as he smiled down at her, and her stomach did the tiniest little flip as she had no choice but to smile back.

            She was grinning as she walked out into the hallway, lost in her own thoughts. So much so that she didn’t even see Ben until he said, “Hey, Hal.”

            She stopped walking and looked at him, irrationally irritated by his use of her shortened name. “Ben. Hi.”

            He smiled and said, “You look great.”

            “Thanks.” She rubbed her lips together and looked at a spot just past his shoulders, because she didn’t want to see his warm brown eyes. She said, “Yeah, you, too.”

            Of course Ben was the kind of perfect guy who couldn’t abide the elephant in the room, so he said, “Listen, I don’t want this wedding to be awkward—”

            She held up a hand. “It won’t.”

            “—so I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

            She dropped her hand and did look at his eyes then, shocked by his words. Apologizing had never really been his thing, even when he’d ripped her heart out. Hallie crossed her arms, suddenly cold, and said, “For . . . ?”

            “For everything.” He squeezed the Fiji water bottle he was holding, like he was nervous, and said, “I’m so sorry.”

            She looked at him and was seriously conflicted. Part of her wanted him to suffer forever, because she could still feel the pain of his rejection. She might not want him anymore, but she’d be lying if she said that certain songs didn’t take her right back to that September and still fill her with an aching melancholy.

            But a larger part of her also didn’t care. She looked at him, at his beautiful face, and all she felt was nostalgia.

            She swallowed and said, “It’s history, Ben—all is forgotten.”

            His eyebrows went up and he turned his head a little, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “What?”

            “I’m over it, so we’re cool.”