Because you’re our friend and we love you.
Nate
When it comes to three dozen text noti?cations, I’d rather not be your friend.
Cooper
Ignore him. He hasn’t found an assistant to help out at the bakery yet, and he’s grumpier than usual. I’m in for game night. I’ll bring pizza.
Harlow
I have the alcohol covered.
Mia
Richard is going to join us!
Can I request a cupcake from you, Nate?
Maybe a red velvet one?
Nate
Will it get me out of showing up tomorrow?
I don’t think it works like that. Sorry.
Nate
Fine. But I’m not happy about any of this.
Sebastian
I’m ecstatic enough for the both of us.
Game night turns out to be a horrible idea.
The friend group might be broken. Fingers are being pointed. A war is imminent, and I can’t stop laughing.
We split into two teams for charades, the Dunns and the Not Dunns. Nate is acting as referee, but he’s useless, spending most of the night with his nose buried in his phone. Cooper, Harlow, and I are getting our asses handed to us, and the tension in the living room increases every round. A bowl of chips gets knocked off the coffee table. Too much alcohol is consumed. We reach a breaking point after Mia correctly guesses Sebastian’s clue in only three seconds, and Harlow calls for a time-out.
“This is bullshit. Y’all are clearly cheating.” She crosses her legs on the couch and scowls at our opponents. “We need new teams. People who share DNA shouldn’t be allowed to gang up on the rest of us.”
“The Dunns are victorious yet again.” Mia plants a kiss on Richard’s cheek, and he pushes his glasses up his nose. “Well, the Dunns and one Reynolds.”
“Soon to be two Reynolds.” Richard wraps an arm around Mia’s shoulders, pulling her to his side. “You’ll have to come up with a new team name after the wedding. Sorry, Sebastian.”
“Dude. I have no emotional attachment to this game whatsoever. We could be the Penis Pilots for all I care,” Sebastian says.
“I’ll probably still use Dunn.” Mia takes a bite of pepperonipizza and dabs her mouth with a napkin. “It’s what’s on all my books. It’s how most of the people in my life know me.”
“Hang on.” Richard frowns and leans forward, looking at her. “You’re not going to take my name?”
“I mean, legally, I will. My driver’s license and passport will say Mia Reynolds. But for writing purposes? For social media? I planned to keep referring to myself as Mia Dunn.”
“But you’ll be my wife.”
“Yes,” Mia agrees with a smile. She pats his khaki-pants-covered thigh. “I’ve built a name for myself as a bestselling romance author, and I’m not ready to give that up.”
