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“Ketchup and mashed potatoes, I know. And no, I didn’t kiss him.”
“No mistletoe?”
“Actually, there was. Mark was there, and thought he’d be an absolute riot by dangling mistletoe between us, even though he knew full well that Joey’s about to be a dad—”
“Wait, Mark was there?” Ivy interrupts.
“Yeah, he helped me cut down the tree.”
“And he knows about your plan?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
“I mean, not that I’m surprised you told him,” she says, “knowing how tight Mark and you are, but doesn’t he usually shoot down these types of ideas?”
“Oh, he’s trying to shoot it down,” I mutter, picking a little fleck of candy cane off my slowly melting mound of whipped cream.
“Yeeeeah,” Ivy says slowly. “I’m gonna suggest you try to meet up with these exes with Mark not around.”
“Well…I mean, yeah, I guess that’s the plan. Although now that I think of it, I am two for two with having Mark present for the encounters. First with Jack at the restaurant, then with Joey at the tree farm.”
“Uh-huh.” She finishes off her drink. “And how’d that go? Either one end happily?”
“Well…”
“Sweets, look. I love you. I love Mark. You guys are two of my favorites. But when it comes to relationships, best friends of the opposite sex are only, well, I don’t want to say troublesome, but it’s tricky, you know? How many of your exes have had an issue with Mark and you being so close?”
I shift in my seat. “A few.”
“Most,” she corrects. “And how many of Mark’s girlfriends have been chilly to you despite your attempts to BFF all over them?”
“A few.”
“All,” she corrects. “It’s not because you’re dating bad guys, or because he’s dating bitchy women, it’s just…it’s normal for new relationships to be jealous, and Mark’s a damn good catalyst for jealousy.”
“He’s just Mark!”
“He looks like a lumberjack version of Clark Kent, Byrne. Other men don’t exactly love their girl being besties with sexy, scruffy Superman.”
Her description pulls up his face—and body—perfectly in my mind, and I suddenly feel just a tiny bit short of breath, and, um…is it hot in here?
Still, she has a point. I mean, I don’t like that it works that way, but…it sort of does. Some of the guys I’ve dated haven’t seemed to care about Mark, but they’re also the ones that didn’t seem to care much about me either. The rest got weird whenever Mark’s name was mentioned. Even Colin, who I rather openly adored, got kind of quiet whenever Mark and I talked on the phone during college. Of all the people in my life, Colin was the closest I ever came to telling someone about Mark’s sister. Colin and I were dating when Emily died, and it felt wrong to tell my boyfriend that I was going home to visit my parents rather than the full truth—that I was going to a funeral.
But it had felt more wrong to tell Colin my best friend’s secret.
Ivy’s right. Maintaining a romantic relationship with a guy at the same time as fostering a platonic relationship with a different guy is not for the faint of heart.
“Okay, I’ll keep Mark out of it. And here’s the best part: I already have Doug and Chad on my radar. Chad agreed to have lunch, and if Doug messages me back—”
Ivy laughs. “Two in one day. I love this about you. But you really think you’ll be able to determine anything over lunch?”
“That’s what the mistletoe test is for.”
“Uh-huh. And how are you planning to lure Chad Morrister, a fortysomething podiatrist, beneath the mistletoe over lunch.”
“Easy,” I say with a grin. “I’ve invited him over for lunch.”
“And you’ve got a bough of mistletoe?”
