The Bromance Book Club (Bromance Book Club, #1)(51)

Del nodded. “Nessa has two full drawers of it. Sometimes I catch her staring at them with this weird smile on her face.”

Mack pulled out his phone and started typing.

“What are you doing?” Gavin asked.

“Looking up washi tape.”

“Why?”

“Obviously, I need to know this shit for the future Mrs. Mack.”

“This is good,” Malcolm said. “I like it. It shows you support her decision to go back to school and that you understand some of her passions.”

“Then what?” Del asked.

“I was thinking dinner.”

“Where?” Yan asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Huh,” Mack said distractedly. “This shit is a legit phenomenon.” He turned his phone around. “There are entire Pinterest boards devoted just to washi tape.”

“What kind of boards?” Del asked.

“Pinterest.”

“What the hell is Pinterest?” Gavin said.

“I feel like I’m with a table of baby boomers.” Mack sighed. He leaned and turned around the screen of his phone. “Romance novels might be the manuals, but Pinterest is where they post the pictures.”

“It’s a website?” Del dug out his phone. “How do you spell it?”

“You’ll need to create an account. Just look at mine for now.” Mack gave Del his phone.

“Can we maybe get back to talking about my date?” Gavin asked.

They ignored him.

“What do you use it for?” Del asked, scrolling with his thumb.

“I get all my best outfit ideas from it.” Mack pointed at Gavin. “You should really be using it.”

“Fuck off.”

Mack typed a few things. “There are probably pictures of all of us on here too.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re famous and good-looking.” He looked at Gavin. “Well, some of us.”

Del made a strangled noise. “Christ, I’m all over this goddamn website. Why the fuck didn’t I know about this?”

“Half of these were probably posted by your team’s social media staff, dude. Chill.”

“Wait, this woman here has an entire board of pictures of me.”

Mack peered at the screen. “Yep. Oh, look. She calls herself a super fan.”

“She’s a fucking stalker! What if my wife sees this?”

“Maybe it is your wife.” Mack took his phone back. “Let’s search for Gavin.”

“Let’s not.”

Mack typed again and hit the search button. Then, “Damn, Gav.” He turned the screen around, and Gavin found himself staring at a collage of images of himself, some shirtless and sweaty from various workouts at spring training last year.

“Someone loves you,” Mack said.

“If it’s not my wife, I don’t care.”

Mack aww’d. “That’s adorable. He’s blushing.”

“Are you guys seriously looking yourselves up on Pinterest?” The waitress busted them with a tray of food.

“We were looking for outfit ideas for our friend here. He’s fashionably challenged.”

She smiled at Gavin. Like, smiled smiled. “He seems fine to me,” she said, setting his food in front of him. Gavin scratched his beard to show off his wedding ring.

Mack snorted. “Subtle.”

“OK, back to Gavin’s date,” Del said. “We left off on where to take her to dinner.”

“Let me do some searching.” Mack said. He typed and talked at the same time. “Best . . . Nashville . . . restaurants . . . to get . . . you . . . laid.”

“Man, fuck off.”

Mack barked out a laugh. “Holy shit. There’s actually a list like that.”

Gavin grabbed the phone. “Really?”

“Things might be looking up, Gav Man. No more five-knuckle shuffle for you.”

Gavin shoved the phone back at Mack. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t out to get laid tomorrow. He’d settle for making her laugh again and maybe a slightly longer good-night kiss.

“Gavin, listen,” Del said. “Ultimately, whatever happens tomorrow night will depend on how you handle things, so don’t spend so much time planning out the perfect date that you forget the most important thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Talking. Getting her to open up to you. You’re moving into the next phase of our plan.”

Mack laughed. “Aw, yeah. This is where it gets good.”

“Oh, Christ.” Gavin scrubbed a hand down his face. “What?”

“Son,” Malcolm asked, as if he weren’t only a year older than Gavin, “what do you know about the G-spot?”

Gavin sputtered and coughed.

“Listen,” Malcolm said. “Your wife doesn’t want you to say I love you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t express it.”

Yan nodded. “You just can’t use those exact words. They’re not part of her language anymore. Hell, maybe they never were.”

“You have to tell her you love her in a way she wants,” Del said. “A way that makes her feel good and safe. A way that will break through her walls and her fears.”