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“Rae,” he belched my name.

I rolled my eyes.

“Rae,” he said my name again when I didn’t acknowledge him, but at least he stopped belching. Small miracles.

“What Peter?” I tried not to sound annoyed. It didn’t work.

His eyebrow rose in humor, “Do I irritate you?”

Oh no, I was not encouraging this line of conversation. Devious little . . .

I shrugged.

“Hey, what are you doing this Friday night?”

Nothing, at least not with you. I turned in his direction and smiled, “Wherever you are sure to be absent, that’s where I’ll be.”

He pretended to look hurt, placing a hand over his heart in mock injury. I rolled my eyes again.

This was a common occurrence in his presence.

“Rae, there’s a kick-ass party at Devon’s Friday night. You should go. With me.”

I stared straight at him, acting like I was considering it. Then I shook my head, “Absolutely not.”

This time he seemed genuinely disappointed, “Why not?”

Did he really have no idea? “Because if I wanted to take a child with me, I would bring my baby sister.”

His friends let out whoops of laughter.

“Harsh,” Jake told him, clapping Peter on the back. R.J. was staring at me, his face curious. Beckett smirked from the back row.

Peter wasn’t deterred, “Come on Rae. You know you’ve been in love with me since the sixth grade.”

I laughed so hard that my sides ached. Is that what he thought? Seriously? He looked a little indignant with my continued humor.

“Are you sure it isn’t the other way around?” I asked between giggles.

The brief flash of shock and then hurt was quickly covered up with a lazy smile, “Yeah, sure babe. You know I’m irresistible.”

His friends laughed but Peter’s eyes told a different story.

I was dead on.

His feelings were as transparent as his inability to think for himself. His friends dictated his every word and behavior. Always a show. Another reason Peter was not the guy for me.

“Yeah, Peter. Your rendition of the pledge makes me weak at the knees.”

More laughter. Peter’s eyes narrowed. Crap. What was he going to do now?

“Rae, come with me Friday,” he leaned forward so only I could hear him. “Please baby?”

I turned to face him, surprised by the endearment. What was he playing at? Was this some kind of joke?

“Peter . . .” his hand settled gently on mine. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

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