Safe Bet (The Rules #4)(27)

“You two are really close, aren’t you?” I find that so sweet. Most of the guys I’ve known would never admit they were close to their parents.

“Yeah. She’s all I’ve got. And I’m all she’s got. It’s always been the two of us against the world.”

“She never remarried?”

“My dad didn’t marry her in the first place. But no, she never married. Said she never met a man worthy enough, and she didn’t want to bother hooking herself up to a loser just because.” His gaze meets mine, dark and intense. “You said you’re not a believer in marriage? Well, neither am I. I’m not much of a big believer in true love either. It all sounds like a bunch of shit if you ask me.”

“I totally agree,” I murmur, my gaze never leaving his. It’s like we’re bonding over our mutual distaste for love and relationships. While we sit here pretending we’re in love and in a relationship.

The irony isn’t lost on me. I bet it’s not lost on him either.

“No wonder we both so readily agreed to pretend we’re in a relationship like this,” he says. “We’re not believers.”

“Not believers of what exactly?” I know what he means, I just want to hear him say it.

“Believers in love.” His smile is slow, his gaze still intense. I’m starting to realize that’s an apt description of him. He can smile so easily but still appear so serious. Maybe Fable’s right—there still might be a hint of mischievousness lingering deep inside him. And I wouldn’t mind trying to bring that to the surface. “Love is a total waste of time.”

“Totally.”

“If you think you’ve fallen in love, you’ll only get hurt.”

“Most likely.”

“And who wants to get hurt?”

“Definitely not me,” I agree.

“Attraction is for real, though.”

I frown. His comment just tripped me up. “Attraction?”

“Yeah, you know. Attraction. Chemistry. Being drawn toward someone, and that person being drawn toward you. That’s real.”

“So you believe in attraction, but not love.”

“Of course I believe in attraction. It’s what makes the world go ’round. It’s what draws people to each other in the first place, and makes them think they’re in love.” He takes another sip of his water and I watch him, entranced with the way his lips curve around the glass, how his Adam’s apple moves when he swallows. Ugh. All this talk of attraction and love is starting to get to me. Just watching him drink is making me squirm, which is totally ridiculous.

“I guess I didn’t think you’d be a big believer in attraction. I don’t know why,” I say, my gaze lingering on his now damp lips. His very full, shiny lips. Is it suddenly hot in here, or is it just me?

“Just because I don’t believe in love doesn’t mean I won’t indulge every once in a while.” He chuckles. “I used to indulge a lot more when I was younger.”

“With girls?”

“Well, yeah.” His cheeks actually turn ruddy, like he’s embarrassed. “Most of my college years, you could’ve totally called me a man-whore and I wouldn’t have argued. I was with a different girl every night, it felt like.”

I frown. “And why exactly are you telling me this?” Not like college was that long ago for him. For all I know he could’ve considered himself a man-whore up to a few weeks ago.

And why does that make me feel so uneasy?

“I don’t know. I guess you’re easy to talk to.” He shrugs. “I don’t open up too often to people.”

“You don’t?” Because he is definitely opening up to me.

“I keep to myself mostly. Only have a few close friends.”

“I understand.” I’m pretty much the same. I knew lots of people in high school, but only a handful would I consider my real friends. Since I got kicked out of the house and couldn’t maintain my old lifestyle, all of those friends have abandoned me. So I guess they weren’t real friends after all.

I’ve dated a few guys, but only two did I actually do the deed with. And the first one doesn’t even count, because he took my virginity and then proceeded to dump me a week later.

The asshole.

“But I’m the one who’s talked the whole night. You’ve hardly said anything,” Wade points out.

Uh oh.

“I don’t mind listening,” I say brightly, hoping to distract him. “Keep talking.”

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Maybe I don’t want it to be my turn.”

He frowns. “Why not? You got secrets you want to hide?”





“I don’t have any secrets,” Sydney says, her voice in full on defense mode.

Huh. That makes me think she definitely has secrets she wants to hide. I can tell by the way her gaze cuts away from mine, the closed off expression on her face. But what could she be hiding? I really don’t know much about her beyond her parents and their shitty marriage. Oh, and that she’s from Texas and California and everywhere else. Talk about a vague answer. She’s completely closed off while I just spilled my guts like she’s my psychologist.