Page 7 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

I rubbed a hand over my face. “Why do I need to bring a date to family dinner?”

“Because Christian went and got married, and now Aunt Cherry and Aunt Bernice have redirected all their energy toward us. Aunt Cherry asked me last Sunday whether I planned to give her more nieces and nephews before her knees gave out.”

I laughed. “What did you tell her?”

“That her knees had nothing to do with my reproductive decisions.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“She hit me with a wooden spoon.”

“You deserved it.”

“I didn’t. And now they’re waiting for one of us to get serious with somebody.”

“One of you,” I corrected. “You’re older.”

“By two years.”

“Those are two valuable years you’ve wasted.”

“I have a career.”

“So do I.”

“You’re avoiding the point.”

“And you’re avoiding being the next Valentine man down the aisle.”

“I’m not avoiding anything. I’m keeping my options open.”

“That’s what men say when no one wants them.”

“Women want me.”

“Do they know you?”

“Fuck you.”

A laugh broke out of me, deep enough to pull at the fatigue sitting in my chest.

“You first,” I said. “Bring a date Friday and show the family how it’s done.”

“Nah. I’m giving you the opportunity to lead.”

“How generous.”

“I’m a giver.” A pause stretched between us. “What about Frankie?”

Her name stirred heat inside my body.

I turned my chair toward the window and stared at the skyscrapers.

“What about her?”

“Naomi said the double date went well.”

“Why would Naomi tell you that?”