Page 33 of Playing the Backbeat

“I have a feeling Dom enjoys this,” Carissa says.

Dominic spits out a long, strangled buzzing sound. “Mechanical malfunction detected. Daddy Robot saysgoooood niiiiight.”

“Oh, way too much,” Ellie says, eyes on her husband and son with that glowing adoration she always wears for them.

“So, what did your roommate think of your baking adventures today?” Abby asks, stealing a set of knockers out of the tin and taking a bite. “Oh my god, they’re actuallyreallygood.”

“Of course they are.” I bump my hip against Evie’s, the only one of us with actual talent in a kitchen. “Thanks for the recipe.”

“Anytime.” She smiles back at me. “Though I think it’s only fair I take a set as payment.”

With cookies and drinks in hand, we make our way to the living room, get comfortable, and dive into our latest book club pick—Carissa’s this month, a small-town romance that was surprisingly hot.

“Okay, Dee. It’s your turn to host book club next month and Evie’s turn to pick the book.”

“I’ve got the perfect one.” Evie opens her phone and reveals the sexiest alien—yes, I said alien—I’ve ever seen on a book cover.

“Damn, Evie. To infinity and beyond?” Bec asks her soon-to-be sister-in-law, disbelief clear on her face.

“Andbeyond,” Evie replies, her brows lifting.

“Oh God, we’ve fully corrupted her. The transformation is complete. I’m so proud.” I wipe fake tears from my cheeks before applauding her pick.

“Should be an interesting one for your roommate to experience.” Abby winks, and I can’t help but laugh picturing Dylan getting his first taste of alien romance.

“Maybe I’ll achieve the impossible and get him to read along with me,” I say with a shrug. “I’ll tell him it’s good research and can only help him in his futile efforts to win.”

“Uh, did I miss something? What exactly is he trying to win?” Bec asks, reaching for another cookie.

I look around my circle of friends only to see them exchanging confused glances with one another and then turn to me expectantly.

“Oh.” I slap my palm to my forehead. “I totally forgot I didn’t tell you. Dylan wants to bring a date to your wedding. I offered to help him. He wanted to reciprocate or whatever. Doesn’tmatter.” I wave them off. “What he doesn’t realize is that I’m the superior matchmaker and I’ve got this in the bag.”

“So, you two are finding dates for one another,” Ellie says hesitantly.

“Uh, yeah?” I wipe my palm against my leggings. Why does it feel like this is going to turn into an interrogation? “Is that weird?”

“Not necessarily,” Carissa says, twirling her phone as it rests on one corner of the table. “It’s just the two of you have been spending a lot of time together.”

I cackle. Absolutely fall to pieces. Tears streaming down my face. A minute passes before I realize I’m the only one laughing.

“Wait, do you guys think—” I wipe my tears. “Do you guys think there’s something between Dylan and me?”

“Clearly we were wrong,” Bec says, disgruntled.

“Very,” I add to clear up any confusion.

“How could we think two attractive, single people with charisma and competitiveness streaming out of their every pore might slip into a little bit of attraction with each other,” Abby adds with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “How could we possibly make such a dumb assumption?”

“It’s okay, everyone makes mistakes.” I smile at them, a huge, cheesy grin. “Now, who wants to help me with the fun part. I’ve logged out of all my dating apps, and he’s done the same on his phone. We’ve logged into our own accounts on each other’s phones so we can make some magic happen in addition to our in-person efforts. I’ve got this girl from my gym in mind, but it can’t hurt to have the digital age on my side in this fight.”

“Oooo, let me see.” Evie scooches closer to me on the couch, leaning against my side as I hold my phone between us, showing her Dylan’s dating profile, which is a thousand times better thanks to the changes I made. “Hey, this looks good.”

“Thank you very much,” I say smugly. “Now you can help me get a pool of candidates.” I slip down to the floor and place my phone in the center of the coffee table.

I lift my hands to the ceiling then bring them to rest at the center of my chest in a prayer pose. “Dear dating goddesses of the Midwest.” I close my eyes, lifting my hands back to the ceiling. “Please bring us the best of the best, so that I may win this bet and forever lord my success over Dylan, therefore owing me for the rest of his life. Amen.”

“Amen,” the girls echo around their laughter.