His eyes got big. “Pass.”

I thought so.

I took the stack of pictures from him and showed him Michelle’s head shot. “She’s, um, bubbly.”

“I don’t want bubbly. I’d like a noncarbonated woman.”

Abigail’s picture was next. Even a two-dimensional rendering of her made me frown. “You should just send Darth Abigail home.”

“The producers love her. I made an agreement with them to keep her around in exchange for getting to choose who stays and who goes. She creates drama with everyone, which keeps the audience at home watching. They keep telling me there are three people the audience will remember—the girl who wins, the girl they wanted to win, and the villain. It wouldn’t be much of a show if we sent the villain home.”

I wondered if I specifically asked him to send her home, if he would. I suspected he might. Just to make me happy. He was a really good friend, even if he couldn’t be a great boyfriend.

“Speaking of the devil, did you kiss or do other stuff with her?”

He had that teasing smirk on his face. “Define ‘stuff.’”

Of course he would have to make this hard. “You know what ‘stuff’ is.”

“I do know what ‘stuff’ is. I am a fan of ‘stuff.’”

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“So, did you?”

He stayed silent for a moment, like he was trying to figure something out. “No,” he finally said. “I didn’t kiss her or do ‘stuff’ with her.”

Ha! I knew she was lying. Dante might be a manwhore, but I had always hoped he had some standards. It was nice to find out I had been right. I grabbed the next head shot. “Cece is pretty in an obvious kind of way.” I flipped the picture around to face him. “If you like that sort of thing.”

He took the head shot from me to study her more closely. “That is annoying. I much prefer having to really search for something to find attractive about a woman.”

“Be serious!” I laughed. We’d never get this done if we just kept cracking jokes. I thumbed through the next few pictures. “Did you specifically request shallow and dumb women?”

“They asked, but I told them I didn’t care who they chose. Because you’re the only woman I want to be with.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, making me stifle a giggle.

“You mean today?” Now it was his turn to laugh.

Then his face went serious. “I am joking about wanting to be with you. Because I could never live with a hoarder like you.”

“I am not a hoarder! I am sometimes disorganized in my personal life with a small side of slob.”

“Small side? Where did you find your shoes this morning?”

I glared at him. “In my closet, thank you very much.”

“And the other one?”

I had to hesitate, knowing the truth would give him way too much satisfaction. But if I lied, he’d know it.

“The backyard.” He laughed so loud I worried he might wake up the entire house. I was going to shush him myself, but he had that look in his eyes when I leaned toward him, the one that made my knees go hollow, and so I refrained.

He took the remaining pictures back from me. “What about Lisa?”

I was glad he put us back on task. “She spent most of one evening telling me about her last relationship without a pause. She kept saying, ‘I don’t even know how to describe it,’ and yet she spent two hours doing just that. So boring. Like, if I wanted a sleeping aid I’d pop an Ambien.”

“She’s out. I need someone that I can talk to the way that you and I talk.” His intense, hot gaze was back. “Do you sit and talk with him like this?”

No need to clarify who “him” was. I wanted to say yes. I opened my mouth to say yes.

But I realized it would be a lie. I loved talking to Sterling, but it wasn’t like this. I often watched what I said with Sterling. I let whatever stupid thing I was thinking fall out of my mouth when I was with Dante. I had a connection with him that I’d never had with anyone else.

Including my fiancé.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I said, pointing to the pictures, but also referencing what was happening in that moment. I was turning out to be a huge fan of avoidance. “Grandma Lemon always says not to treat other women disrespectfully because it gives men ideas. But when I’m with you, apparently I have no filter.”




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