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“What are we celebrating for your week?” I ask.

“Surviving it,” he jokes.

Felix is a corporate tax specialist, and I’m pretty sure he hates it. He claims he gets a lot of enjoyment from his job, but I’m never really convinced, especially when he starts lamenting that he’s doing his bit to help company bosses justify their bonuses, and all he has to show for it is a sore back and tired eyes from hunching over his laptop and squinting at Excel.

I’m fairly sure that his future includes him quitting his job spectacularly and taking a long sabbatical before finding himself an entirely new career.

Our jobs are so far removed from each other that it feels like another reason our friendship is unlikely. I spend my day enjoying creating things and then scowling as I do the administrative things like maintaining my accounts. Felix’s most creative thing is writing a better Excel formula, and he hates when things are free format.

“How are things going with Caleb?” I ask, and I smile as I watch the flush on his cheeks. His expressive face really is his nemesis. It always says far more than he intends.

“He’s taking me out for dinner tomorrow night,” he says.

“Date seven?” I ask.

I haven’t met Caleb yet because Felix has a seven-date rule. He doesn’t like to introduce me to the men he dates until the magic number has passed, usually because I find all the redeeming traits of the person he’s seeing and apparently get too attached. When Felix walks away from a guy, he will have a reason, and he hates listening to me counter with something I liked about them. Apparently, I see past too many red flags.

“Yes, date seven. If we survive the night, I will arrange a suitable time for you to meet. I promise.”

“Then I’ll cross my fingers that dinner goes well.” I smile at him.

I’m sure Felix likes Caleb more than he wants to admit. Mostly because I can see it on his face every time he mentions him. There’s hope that flashes in his eyes when he says his name.

I do hope Caleb survives date number seven. It’ll be the first time in years a guy has. Not since Felix had his heart broken by Rhys—or as I like to call him, Satan’s Bitch. Neither of us saw the red flags with Rhys. Neither of us ever imagined that he’d pretend to be the world’s best boyfriend, propose to Felix, plan a beautiful wedding, but call it off at the last minute because he was “having doubts,” which turned out to mean he spent the entire three years of their relationship balls-deep in other people and was upset his latest side piece wouldn’t continue their affair if Rhys was legally wed. Apparently, there were lines he wouldn’t cross.

Felix and I are both terrible at seeing the signs. We both have the scarred hearts to prove it.

“My mum and dad were asking after you last night,” he comments.

“All good comments, I hope,” I joke.

I know it will be. Jennifer and Cain West are two of my favourite people in the world, and somehow, they seem to love me too. It shouldn’t be unexpected given how long I’ve been in their lives. I used to stay at their house a lot when I was a teenager, turning up on nights where anything was preferable to going home to my mother.

Felix rolls his eyes at me.

“Of course it was all good. You know their only disappointment about you is that you don’t have a dick so they could finally marry us off.”

“Like that’s the only barrier for us being in a relationship,” I snort.

“Hey, what would be bad about being married to me?” he asks, nothing but amusement in his eyes.

“Nothing. But think about being my husband. Imagine having to deal with my chaos.”

“I already deal with your chaos.” He rolls his eyes again.

“Yes, but in limited doses. You’re not there at the flat, packing away the things I’ve left out,” I remind him.

“Okay, you’re right. I prefer dealing with your emotional chaos than your physical chaos,” he concedes. “Anyway, they mentioned they hadn’t seen you in a while. I think it was a hint for me to arrange going out for dinner with them one night.”

“Your parents, you, Caleb, and me,” I propose.

“We’ll see how date seven goes.” He shrugs.

“Well, let me know when your parents want to. I’ll be there,” I promise.

There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Felix, and dinner with his parents wouldn’t be a hardship or awkward event. In many ways, it’s a treat for me. My dad died when I was twenty-five, and I haven’t seen my mum since I was nineteen. The only family I have are Verity—my stepmother—and her daughter Maddie. I have dinner with them when I can, but I don’t like to intrude, no matter how nice Verity is. She’s much more of a mother than my own ever was.

Some people just aren’t cut out to be mothers. Mine is at the top of that list.