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“Of course, you are. I mean, hello? Kate Beckinsale and Pete Davidson, anyone? There are no rules in love and war.”

I shifted my weight from leg to leg, fighting the cold burrowing into my bones as the headlights of a Toyota Camry flashed in the distance, coming toward me.

“I can’t believe I’m going on a date with someone else.”

“Hey, you aren’t exclusive.” Something rustled in the background. Probably another bag of snacks. “And I happened to set you up with a really great guy. Who knows? Maybe something real can blossom out of it.”

Dallas had insisted on setting me up with a date at The Winstonian—finding me last-minute seats courtesy of a wary Romeo—so I could remind Zach that our lack of exclusiveness went both ways.

It was petty, but I wasn’t in a position to turn it down.

One—because I hadn’t eaten since morning.

And two—because I really did need to prove to both Zach and myself that I wasn’t all-in in this relationship.

“Set your expectations way low.” I shimmied my minidress down over my thighs. The thing was shorter than Romeo’s fuse. “Zach marked me with love bites all over my boobs and stomach the other day.”

“Ugh. That is so hot.” Dallas sighed. “And he is so screwed.”

The Uber parked right in front of me.

I flashed the driver a smile, muttering, “So am I.”

Anderson Stause was not a man capable of stealing my heart.

Quite frankly, he was not a man capable of stealing the pepper grinder sitting between us on the candlelit table.

There was nothing overtly wrong with him (other than the fact that his jawline reminded me of Bob Belcher). There was nothing overtly right with him, either.

To be completely frank, he was blander than unseasoned oatmeal.

Nice, but not kind.

Well-read, but not intelligent.

Aesthetically pleasing, but not handsome.

He didn’t possess the same powerful magnetism Zach did, nor the boyish, enthusiastic passion that lit a fire in his eyes.

“I’m so pumped we get to eat here.” Anderson splayed a napkin on his lap, grinning. “I’ve always wanted to try this place, but I could never get a table.”

I surveyed the room.

We’d settled at the table not even a minute ago, and already he’d polished off all the complimentary bread, chugged down two cocktails, and pocketed the fine utensils.

Where did Dallas find this guy?

I offered a polite smile, still scanning the restaurant, only half-paying attention. “Hmm.”

My eyes landed on Zach and Eileen three tables over. As if sensing my gaze, Zach twisted his head, zeroing in on me with uncanny precision.

As soon as he drank in the dress, his expression darkened, brows pinched together. A tingle zapped down my spine. I swallowed my saliva.

I’d never seen him like this.

So…uncontained.

Eileen sat across from him, talking a mile a minute as she toyed with the stick in her cocktail.

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