Page 26 of Playing the Backbeat

“I already do that, even though I seem to remember a deal being made between us…someone cooks, the other one cleans?”

“Hm…must have slipped my mind. Oh well.” He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll play along,” I say, giving in. “You cantryto find me a date, but bear in mind that I have incredibly high standards, and even if I like him or her, I most likely won’t invite them to the wedding. They’d have to be super fucking cool for me to even consider it, and they can’t be in any group pictures. That’s the kiss of death for any new relationship.”

He ponders that for a moment before agreeing. “Deal.”

We shake hands, but before he can pull away, I grip his hand tighter and tug hard, bringing us closer together. I lock eyes with him. “Bet I’ll find someone better than you do.”

“Why does it have to be a competition?”

“Why be boring when we could be enemies?

“You’re on. What’s your type?”

I start ticking them off on my fingers. “Blond.”

“So…me,” he says confidently.

I tick off another finger. “Doesn’t annoy me…”

He shrugs. “Okay, so,notme.” He leans forward, whispering, “You know…it might be a bit premature to rule outeveryonewho annoys you. From my experience, that’s most of the population.”

“Just because you’re included in the group doesn’t mean it’s the bigger group.”

“Ouch.” He slaps a hand over his heart. As if I could ever wound him. I roll my eyes. “Okay, if all you’ll give me is hair color and the impossible feat ofnotannoying you, we’re moving on. What’s the dream date?”

“April twenty-fifth,” I reply with zero hesitation, pulling the plugs from the drains of the washing bins.

He doesn’t move an inch except for the lift of a brow.

“Ohcome on,” I groan. “Not aMiss Congenialityfan?”

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Your loss,” I say. “Let’s cut the theatrics, Dylan. I’m dating in my late twenties. If the person shows up and can hold up their end of the conversation without being a creep, then it’s a dream come true.”

“Yikes. It’s been that bad for you too?”

“Like I said, it’s been a long year and a half.” I begin placing the clean glasses into the freezer to chill for tomorrow. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex. Even longer since my last relationship. Christina and I broke up four years ago, and nothing’s extended beyond a third date ever since. “But hey, with Daddy Dylan behind the wheel of my dating life, I can rest easy, right?”

He scoffs. “You don’t seem worried at all about finding me a date.”

“Uh…because I’m not. I have impeccable taste when it comes to other people. It’s my own dating life that’s a shit show.”

“You just told me you tried to convince Bec to break up with Aiden.”

“Nah-ah-ah.” I hold up my hand to stop him. “I simply offered the very reasonable solution of keying his expensive-ass car if he hurt her.”

The look he gives me doesn’t exactly screamsurprised. I guess not much I do can surprise him anymore.

“What?” I ask defensively. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll offer the same to you. But your date will be so phenomenal, all you’ll be able to do is sing my praises and worship at my feet for ending your dry spell so magnificently. There’ll be no need for vandalism.”

He bites his lips and I can tell he’s fighting it. He doesn’t want to give me the satisfaction of a smile.

“Sounds like we have a better chance of ending up in jail than getting dates for this wedding.”

I’ve finished all of my closing duties, so I grab my jacket and purse, circling around the bar as he stands. I slap a hand on his shoulder and lean in to whisper, “Because we do.”