“Oh, here we go,” Beck said dramatically.
Unlike my friend, I had no problem with PDA, especially from a guy who I’d been convinced would be single forever. We all had a reason to take that bachelor pact in college, Mason included. For him, seeing his dad’s heartbreak after Mason’s mom died, the guy never remarrying because of it, left some scars.
We all had them.
I gave my attention to Beck. “What’s in the pot now?” I asked, still thinking of our pact.
“Six-fifty, right? One hundred each to pony up and Mr. Engaged here,” he said, nodding to Mason.
Pia went to the fridge and pulled out some vegetables. “I still can’t believe you had to donate two hundred and fifty dollars to… that.”
“A pact is a pact,” Mason said, taking a swig of his beer.
“When he gets married, that’ll be another two-fifty,” Beck said. “The pot’s growing.”
Pia rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I ever asked whose idea it was in the first place?” She side-eyed Mason. “Wait, maybe I don’t want to know.”
“It wasn’t Mace,” I said. “Take a guess who came up with it.”
“Setting the stage,” Beck said, warming up to the topic. “Someone just got dumped. We were in senior year?—”
“Of college,” I added.
“No shit, Sherlock.” Mason put his hand around the back of Pia’s neck as she cut vegetables, massaging it. This warm and fuzzy version of my ex-cop, ex-military friend would take some getting used to. “Pia knows we met Park in college.”
“Anyway,” Beck continued, ignoring Mason. “We were at our apartment on a late Saturday afternoon, getting ready to go out. Pregaming, you know?”
“I can only imagine,” Pia said wryly.
“And that’s when one of us, but not Mason, said, ‘Let’s make a pact right here, right now. Bachelors for life.’”
I tried not to laugh at Beck’s overly dramatic storytelling voice.
“Any guesses?” I asked her.
She stopped cutting celery. “Not to be too personal,” she said to me. “But I know you’re not a huge fan of your dad, given everything. I’m thinking maybe that situation soured you on the whole love and marriage thing?”
“True statement,” I said with a swig of beer. “But it wasn’t me.”
She turned to Beck. “I wouldn’t have guessed you right off the bat since both your mom and dad remarried.”
“Married does not mean happily married,” Beck said. “Even the second time around.”
Pia and Beck had grown close. No doubt she knew all about Beck’s super wealthy, meddling, divorced, remarried… and did I mention controlling parents? “But I’m still guessing you. If there’s anyone in this foursome who isn’t into the whole relationship thing, it’s you.”
“Try again,” Beck said, enjoying this way too much.
She looked at me, surprised. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I shrugged. “Like Beck said, married doesn’t mean happily married. I think it’s almost worse that Cole’s parents should have gotten divorced years ago, but didn’t.”
Cole’s father, like our friend, was an Ivy-league college professor and lived for his job, above everything, unfortunately.
“I won’t be shocked if they do separate,” Beck added. “When his sister graduates high school.”
“Wow. Cole. I honestly wouldn’t have guessed him first. He’s that anti-relationship?”
“Big time,” I said as Pia began cutting celery again. “I honestly think if any of us really do stay a bachelor for life, it’ll be him.”
