Page 59 of End Game

“Yeah, but he’s still cool,” she says. “Let him take you to brunch or something. Wait. Why is he even in Philly?”

“He has a wedding. One of his prep school friends.”

She rolls her eyes. “I swear, that boy has a bigger social life than the two of us combined.”

It’s my turn to laugh. “That’s not hard.”

“True.”

My brother is a social animal. He loves meeting people and making connections. He excels at small talk. Me? No, thanks. I went to etiquette classes because my parents required it, and I went to a few social events as required, but for the most part, if it wasn’t about football or Diana, I wasn’t interested. I never have been. That’s why Dougie excels at the social interaction side of business school, and why he’ll have a job in our family’s business doing something to build relationships, and my job will be running numbers. I like numbers. They don’t lie, except when we get artistic.

“I can’t even imagine getting married,” Diana says.

I sit up a little straighter. “You can’t?”

“I mean, not right now.” She bites her lip and looks away for a moment before her eyes find mine again. “I kind of need to be in a relationship before I can get married, and it doesn’t look like that’s happening anytime soon, so…”

“I didn’t realize you’d thought about it.”

“My dad…” She sniffs and clears her throat. “He’s the one that’s supposed to walk me down the aisle. And there’s the father daughter dance. What will I do if he’s not here?”

Her eyes well with tears.

“Dee…”

“It’s all hypothetical. I’ve never even had a boyfriend,” she admits.

I’ll be your boyfriend, I want to tell her. I would marry her in a heartbeat. I want forever with her.

But I can’t tell her that.

“Do you want one?”

Pick me! Choose me!

In the next bed over, Tucker snorts again, and I shoot him an irritated glare.

“Kind of,” Diana says for the first time ever. “I met this guy and we’ve been texting. We’re supposed to go bowling tomorrow night.”

My stomach clenches. My whole world tilts fourteen degrees to the left.

“Who?”

“Um, I met him at the pub a few weeks ago.”

“The guy who wouldn’t text you back?”

She blushes. “Yeah. I ran into him again and… well, he’s cute and he seems nice, so…”

“I hope it works out,” I lie.

I don’t want it to work out. I want her to be happy—I just want her to be happy with me.

“Thanks, B.” She gives me a shy smile. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Any girls on the horizon for you?”