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“Thank you for telling the restaurant this wonderful information,” I say, stopping her. “I love reliving my super-dorky years.”

She grins. “Those are still going strong.”

The waitress comes back then, and we hand her our order. When she walks away, I glance back at Ally as she meets my gaze. “So, tell me, Professor Titov, why do people constantly ask us, then? It’s obvious we aren’t together. We’re mean to each other more than we’re nice.”

She shrugs, messing with the paper from her chopsticks. “True, but it’s becau

se we’re both straight and we’re close. By now, people figure one of us would have become attracted to the other. Either we hide it, ignore it, or it hasn’t happened.”

I laugh. “So, are you hiding it or ignoring it?”

Her face is like stone. She swallows visibly and shakes her head. “Neither.”

I nod. “I guess that means our attraction will come later, then. Probably when we’re both on our third marriage and figure, ‘Shit, let’s die together.’” I joke because I do a damn good job ignoring my feelings, but I’m not telling her that. It’s been very clear that she isn’t attracted to me or doesn’t want anything more with me. She only looks at me like a little brother. I know this because, at one point, I made my move.

It was my senior year of high school. My crush on Posey had finally ended—it was short-lived anyway—and if I’m honest, the crush I had on Ally was far longer and stronger. She’s always been a showstopper, but when I turned fourteen and hormones met me full force, Ally was basically the Kim Kardashian of the Assassins kids. So hot.

She was older than us, and by the time my senior prom rolled around, she’d just come back from a trip to Europe, and she was even hotter. Just blazing hot. She went to prom with me because I’m a loser and hated the girls at my school. Everyone was so full of drama, and usually, the only reason they wanted me was because the newly drafted Aiden Brooks was my older brother. Maybe they felt they could get in with him if they dated me.

Sorry, ladies, I didn’t have time for anyone, but I did have time for Ally.

So, we went to prom. It was awesome. We danced, she brought a flask, and we ate more than we should, but it was fun. Best night ever. We went to an after party, and things were crazy. Booze and drugs, and both of us were flying good and high. I went through a rebellious phase for about a week, then my dad scared me straight with his stories of addiction. Seriously scared the shit out of me, and I haven’t touched drugs since.

It was well into the wee hours of the morning, and she was tucked into my side, looking as if she might pass out at any moment. I leaned my head on hers and sucked in a deep breath, taking in her incredible fragrance. She cuddled deeper into me, and it felt so intimate and perfect. When she glanced up at me, her eyes hooded and lips looking way too damn good not to be kissed, I slowly lowered my head. Her eyes widened, and she quickly turned her head.

Talk about a solid slap to the face.

Cold water on my dick.

I decided, from that moment on, I would never try anything again. Truth is, I know we’d be great together, but I won’t put myself out there like that a second time. It was a hard pill to swallow. How in the world could we be so good and get along so well together but not take it to the next level? Years have passed, and I’ve settled for her as my best friend. Sometimes, though, I’m aware I put her in front of everyone I’ve dated. I thought Jasmine was the one because she loved Ally and didn’t really complain when I was on the phone with her. Little did I know, she wanted Ally in our bed.

Again, tough pill to swallow.

When Ally smiles, it pulls me from my thoughts. “Probably, but I think you’ll marry before me. You’ll be the one with the three marriages.”

I scoff. “Probably. I can’t seem to keep a woman, huh?”

“Nope, you might suck at relationships.”

We share a grin. It’s a running joke that she picks the shit guys, and I chase off the girls. “You’re staying with your parents?”

I nod. “Unfortunately. We’ll see how long I last.”

She giggles. “A week, tops. The girls will drive you out.”

“I wonder if Aiden sold his condo?”

She shrugs. “I don’t think so. He’s holding it for future Assassins.”

I groan. “Do you have to go to that fitting Saturday?”

She nods. “Yes, I’m in the wedding, but I’m also stand-in for Posey this week while she’s on a road trip with the Assassins. Want me to deflect for you?”

“Please do,” I practically beg. “If Shelli comes at me with that stupid book one more time, I might scream. Aiden is so wrapped around her finger.”

“It’s sweet,” she insists. “They are so in love. I love it. It’s such a cute story. She’s loved him her whole life, and she got him. Be honest, that’s adorable.”

“It is,” I say as I shrug. “But that book is the devil.”

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