The Dating Experiment (The Experiment, #2)(7)

“Yes. And the first date should be Saturday night.” I felt sick. “Done?”

“Done,” he said, voice firmer than I’d ever heard it. “What if we get it wrong?”

“Eternal bragging rights for me when I nail your date,” I shot back.

He flipped me the middle finger, and without another word, disappeared.

I let go of a deep breath and sagged into my chair. Had I really just done that?

Had I really just not only asked Dom to set me up with someone but agreed to set him up with another woman?

Shit.

***

“Well, that’s a hot mess if ever there was one,” Mellie said, her wine glass hovering in front of her mouth.

“You are the authority on hot messes,” Peyton pointed out, poking a breadstick in her direction.

The theme for tonight’s girls’ night had been chips and dips, so naturally, I’d loaded up on ten different dips and a variation of chips and stuff you could dip.

I also had pizza, because you could totally dip that into ketchup, so it counted.

“I want to argue, but yeah, no.” Mellie shrugged. “Chlo, what are you gonna do?”

“What do you mean?” I asked around a mouthful of chips and guac. I swallowed. “I’m gonna match him. How else am I gonna get over his stupid ass? He’s gonna match me to someone I’m compatible with, and I’m gonna do the same for him.”

“This sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.” Peyton clicked her tongue. “Trust me. I was the disaster a few weeks ago.”

“But you had history with Elliott,” I pointed out.

“And you don’t with my brother?” She leaned forward and picked up her glass from the coffee table. “You’ve been in love with him since before you knew what love was, Chlo. That’s history. How are you going to do this?”

“Easily.” I put my glass on the table and resisted the allure of another chip dipped in guac.

I’d had a lot of time—several hours—to think about this, and I knew for a fact I had this all figured out. From beginning to end. I’d nailed it. The plan was foolproof.

Given that Dom was a fool, that didn’t mean a lot, but I wasn’t one. A fool, that was.

“I need to get over him. I might have strong feelings for him,” I admitted, “But I’m not beyond help. Besides, I don’t even like him. I think he’s an intolerable human being who will, one day, be the victim on one of those Investigation Discovery murder shows.”

Mellie snorted. “We’re with you there.”

“Pretty much,” Peyton agreed.

“See? So, I figure, if I do this, it kills two birds with one stone. I meet someone who could potentially allow me to get over him, and I get to see him with someone else. It’ll remind me that he’s not The One.” I chewed the skin on the side of my thumb. “He’s The One, but not for me. I think that’s what I need. To see him with someone who’s compatible with him, because I’m not it.”

A look passed between Peyton and Mellie.

I chose to ignore it. I didn’t care what they thought—Peyton was on my ass to get over Dom, and there was no way I was wrong. Anyone who fought the way we did were polar opposites to the point that there would never be a common ground.

I knew that. I accepted that.

I was okay with that.

After all, I’d had enough time to accept that Dom and I would never be a thing. It didn’t matter if I’d spent years denying how I felt about him. Some things needed to be denied.

“Seriously,” I said after a moment of silence. “I’m determined to do this. I’m committed, you guys. I’m going to use this stupid challenge to get over him once and for all. It won’t be hard to find a guy better than he is.”

“He’s not that bad,” Peyton said reluctantly. “He’s enough of a tool to fill an entire box, but he’s not bad.”

“That doesn’t help, Peyt,” Mellie said, tipping her empty glass toward her. “We’re supposed to tell her how bad he is.”

“He’s my brother. I tell him how much of a dick he is to his face. She already knows that.” Peyt grinned.

She wasn’t wrong.

“I can’t think of him like that,” I said. “I need to think of him the way I do right now.”

“The sexy, hot-as-fuck brother of your best friend?” Mellie asked.

“No,” I said. “The huge ass pain-in-my-butt, ignorant and dickish brother of my best friend.”

“How in the hell are you in love with him?”

“I don’t know.” That was the damn truth. I didn’t know. I never had done. I just was. “But I don’t want to be anymore. It’s time that Chloe Collins broke free of the crap spell Dominic Austin wove on her. Sabrina the Teenage Witch wouldn’t tolerate it.”

“She’d tolerate it,” Mellie said.

“Salem would be the opposition,” Peyton added.

“Whatever.” I flicked my hand in dismissal. “The point still stands. There’s a freaky spell on me, and I want it gone.”

“You should try self-control.”

“You should try not being a bitch,” I muttered.