Scored(7)

“Oh, please.” Layton rolls her eyes. “You should be thanking me.”

“Nolan already told you, didn’t he?” I ask. Swear that man gossips more than Layton and I do combined.

“He might have, and he might still be upset that you didn’t say yes to the player.”

“Lord, please tell me that’s just something you made up and not Dallas’ nickname.”

She shrugs a dainty shoulder. “Who cares about his nickname—it’s not like you have to worry about calling him that.”

“Too bad you weren’t home last night to find out what I did call him.”

“But I’m here now.” Her phone rings. She gives me an apologetic smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take this. Wedding planner.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Go on, I don’t have anything to talk about.”

“You’re a peach, Paige.” Her southern drawl is so pronounced that even I can hear it. “Don’t worry, I can’t wait to hear all about your plan to finagle another invitation out of Dallas.” She’s a wily one, all southern charm and bouncy curls that encourage everyone to trust her.

Yes, I’m a southern girl, too, and proud of it. However, what most people don’t know is that there are degrees of southern. While I’ve got the manners, the accent, the love of country music, and the occasional monogram on my purses and clothes… Layton is a Lily Pulitzer-wearing, sweet-tea drinking daddy’s girl who rushed Delta Zeta Lambda in college, and always wears her great-grandmother’s double-strand pearl necklace, no matter the occasion.

She’s also completely comfortable in her own skin, knows what she wants out of life, and is well on her way to marrying her childhood sweetheart so they can have two-point-five kids and a dog, with a house near the country club.

I might be a little jealous.

Okay, so I’m a lot jealous because while I love my job… I have no idea where my future is going. I have no dates, and the only guy who has bothered to ask me out in the past eight months is so forbidden he might as well live in the Chamber of Secrets.

The server brings our dishes to us, and I dig into my mac and cheese while Layton discusses table centerpieces.

“Aw, he did?” Layton touches her cheek and sighs dreamily. “He is just the sweetest. Yes, I do know I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Thank you, Tiffany.”

I lick the cheese off my fork. “Joe to the rescue.”

Eyes shining, Layton nods, setting her phone screen down on the table. “Tiffany said he stopped by this morning and clarified everything for her. They came to a real understanding, which I take to mean he showed her The Binder.”

I snort. “The Binder knows all. It’s like the ring in Lord of the Rings.” The Binder is exactly that, except Layton has had it since sixth grade. Every important event in her life is detailed in it, including the events that haven’t happened, yet.

“It is my precious, and I only trust it to two people in the world—you and Joe.” She points her fork at me. “Back to you. Tell me the real version of meeting Dallas. I’m afraid Nolan isn’t the best when it comes to vital details.”

I give her the nitty-gritty, which makes Layton frown, smile, and then laugh out loud. “Oh, good grief. Stickers were the reason he was staring at you?”

“He said they gave him an excuse to really stare.” Switching to a spoon, I scoop up the last few bites of the mac and cheese. “He also gave me his number.”

Her hazel eyes round. “Have you called him?”

“No.” I was tempted, though.

Layton smiles. “One point in his favor, besides giving you his number, is that he’s honest.”

“He’s also the opposite of me—I have no idea what we would have in common… and he’s more forbidden than wearing white after Labor Day.”

“Forbidden man candy. I like it.” Layton’s eyes go wide. “Your sister is here.”

“What?” I crane my neck, trying to get a glimpse of Finley, and spy her walking across the parking lot. With her jaw-skimming auburn hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and take-no-prisoners attitude, we’re complete opposites. The only thing we have in common, besides two dads who abandoned us, is our momma’s smile, with a small gap between our front two teeth.

Growing up, we never had the money for braces. By the time Finley and I could pay for it, we decided to keep the gap. Our little brother, however, got his fixed his senior year of high school.

The traitor.

“Hi, Layton.”

“You look pretty today, Finley,” Layton says by way of greeting.

“Thanks,” Finley replies, then turns her shrewd eyes on me, “Why do you look so guilty?”

Think, Think. “Do you see the size of this bowl of mac and cheese?”

“I see it, and I want one.” She waves down a server and orders an extra-large bowl with extra bacon. “Desserts, ladies?”

“No,” Layton and I mumble simultaneously.

“We have to be able to fit in our wedding finery,” I say.

Layton smacks me lightly on the arm. “Stop calling it that.”

“You stop calling it that.”

“I said it once, Paige, and that was when I was talking to my great-aunt Pearl.” Layton tosses her hair and huffs, then looks up at the sky beseechingly. “Lord, help me not to kill my friend because she’s the only one can pull off a strapless gown in lime green. Amen.”