“Iam,” I say. “And I’m sure he is, too, because he works inNew York City.”
“Have youaskedhim?” she says.
“No, but when I said something about his family making assumptions about us ending up together long term, he said, ‘I’ll set them straight if they do that.’”
“And how did you feel about that?”
“Relieved,” I say. “It would be absurd for me to jump straight out of Paul’s frying pan and into Rhys’s fire.”
Even if every time I think about what happened last night, my body goes white hot and I tingle from head to toe.
IlikeRhys’s fire—I’ll say that.
“Just because the timing utterly sucks doesn’t mean it’s wrong,” Mari says.
“Just because you’re happily married to the perfect guy doesn’t mean I have to make another dumb mistake right after the last one,” I say.
She grins at that. “Okay, okay, I’ll shut up. But I think you can safely go to one family dinner without risking ruin.”
“I don’t want to get roped into the whole weird mystique about the will matchmaking people. Quinn and Sonya, Ivy and Shane, Natalie and Preston. It’s a combination of coincidence and probably a lot of self-fulfilling prophecy. If you think something’s fated, confirmation bias will make you lean into it.”
“Hmm,” Mari says. “Hadn’t exactly thought of it that way. You know,” she says, “when I was trying to figure out whether Zara and I should stay in Rush Creek with Kane, it was a little like that, too. Lucy was already with Gabe, Rachel with Brody, and Jessa with Clark. And there was this family lore that if Gabe’s dog, Buck, chewed up a girlfriend’s possessions, she was The One. I thought it was total bullshit…until Buck ate one of my shoes.”
“And then confirmation bias set in and you determined that you and Zara should stay with Kane, and you lived happily ever after, because confirmation bias has a fifty-fifty success rate at happily ever after, just like chance, dating sites, and arranged marriages.”
“Whoa,” she says. “Now who’s the cynic?”
“Maybe I’ve been spending too much time with Rhys.”
Although Rhys, to be fair, hasn’t said anything cynical about marriage since the beginning of our road trip. And I remember how Hanna said that he wanted to introduce premarital counseling to the wedding-planning business. Hanna had dismissed that as more cynicism…but what if it wasn’t? What if Rhys and I have swapped perspectives on happily-ever-after?
It’s a disturbing question.
“Just go to dinner and enjoy the good company and don’t worry too much about what it means,” Mari says. “You deserve some fun after everything you’ve been through.”
34
Rhys
Ipick Eden up at Mari’s at six. She has her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and as she slides into the car, I say, “Have I ever mentioned that women in ponytails are my kink?”
She laughs, a perfect, bubbly sound. “You have not.”
I wrap a hand gently around her hair and draw her close to me, lowering my mouth over hers. Her mouth is warm and inviting, and it’s several minutes before either of us is inclined to surface.
“Hello to you, too,” she says, smiling, when I finally break the kiss. “Oh, good, I didn’t totally underdress.” She runs her eyes over me in a way that has my whole body heating. “Anyone ever mention you look as good in jeans and a T-shirt as in a button-down and slacks?”
“No,” I say.
“Mmm,” she says, half turning in her seat to press a hand to my chest, then stroking my shoulder and wrapping her hand around my biceps. “I approve.”
“You don’t have to stop,” I say. “There’s lots more of me to grope.”
She laughs. “We’ll be late.”
“They’re probably expecting us to arrive fifteen minutes late and still putting our clothes back on,” I remind her.
“In that case,” she says, and puts her other hand on my jaw, turning my head so our mouths meet.
