Page 161

"What's really going on?"

"We're dating."

He shook his head as a smug smile pulled across his face. "Try again."

I looked at him.

He looked back.

Damn it.

"Why does everybody suddenly care so much about my love life?"

"Because you've never had one."

"I have a long list of women who would disagree with you."

"You've had a sex life,” Dylan clarified. “There's a difference."

"Pretty sure those two things overlap."

"Not for you."

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Took another drink.

Dylan's grin faded. "Look, bro. I'm not here to give you shit."

"Could've fooled me."

"Okay, I'm not just here to give you shit."

"Great."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I've known you my whole life."

"Unfortunately."

"And I've seen you with women."

"Congratulations."

"I've never seen you like this."

Something tightened in my chest. "Like what?"

He shrugged. "Like you actually give a damn what happens next."

I stared at the label on my beer.

There were a hundred things I could've said. A hundred jokes I could've made. Normally, I'd have picked the funniest one and moved on.

But I was tired.

Tired of pretending everything was easy. Tired of acting like I didn't care. Tired of not knowing whether the best four days of my life were about to become something I'd spend the next four years trying to forget.

"I don't know what happens next," I admitted.

Dylan went quiet. Which was rare enough to qualify as a medical event. "Have you asked her?"