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Cap tilts his head to the side. “So, let me get this straight. You’re having best friend problems…” He pauses and searches my eyes. “And your best friend is a girl named Ava?”

“Yeah?” I respond, perplexity apparent in my voice. “And?”

Theo smirks over his glass of whiskey. “Well, in my experience, the male-female friendship dynamic rarely, if ever, stays just friends. It almost always leads to more.”

Cap snorts. “Yeah, especially when you’re just friends with someone’s fucking little sister.”

“What?” Trev questions, and Theo lets out a half sigh, half chuckle.

“Cap is referring to the fact that I married his sister.”

“My baby fucking sister,” Cap interjects.

“Jesus, you guys have quite the stories, you know that?” Trev retorts on a laugh. “Every time we hang out with you, I find out all sorts of new, interesting shit.”

“When it comes to these bastards, I have stories for days, son.” Thatch winks. “But we’ll have to save those for another time. You know, when we’re not so focused on trying to figure out why Luke is pretending he’s not in love with his best friend Ava.”

“Oh, come on!” A wolflike, incredulous laugh jumps from my lungs. “I’m not in love with Ava. It’s not like that with us. Like I said, we’ve been friends since college. Damn near fifteen years of just friendship.”

“Oh, okay. That explains everything.” Thatch nods, but I can tell he’s still not convinced.

“Trust me on this. Ava and I are just friends.”

“Okay.” Cap shrugs it off. “So, if you’re just friends with her, what has your panties in a bunch right now?”

“My panties aren’t in a bunch. Ava has officially entered the wild world of dating in the TapNext realm, and I can tell it’s heading for disaster. I’m preparing to clean up the mess. That’s all.”

“Did you hear that, Kline?” Wes responds in amusement. “His best friend is using your little dating app.”

Kline smirks, and I cringe. Shit. I don’t know why I forgot that TapNext was his company’s app, but I did. I hope he doesn’t take too much offense and, you know, fire me.

Thatch rubs his hands together with a smile, and Kline shrugs. Thankfully, it seems he doesn’t care about my less-than-flattering take on his life’s work. He’s maybe a little annoyed that he’s going to have to listen to Thatch and Wes volley back and forth about it, but that’s it. “What’s the situation?” Thatch questions. “Drug dealer? Pedophile? Who’s she matching with, dude?”

Kline shakes his head and takes a swig of his drink before muttering, “We background check, T. Don’t be ridiculous with this shit.”

Thatch laughs and turns back to me. “So, what is it? Why is this going to be a disaster?”

“She’s going on a date with some guy named Brian. His profile is full of popped-collar pictures and waxing poetic about his boat.”

Trent snorts. “Popped collars? Have we gone back in time fifteen years?”

“Yeah,” I huff out. “It’s like reliving all her douchebag college boyfriends all over again.”

All the guys share a noticeable look, so much so that I have to ask, “What? What is it?”

I mean, I know the whole guy-girl friendship thing isn’t exactly the norm, but that’s all Ava and I are. Just friends. We have been for years.

Kline is the only one to answer. “It’s nothing, really. You don’t have to worry, though. Dating app or not, I have a feeling everything with your friend Ava will work out just fine.”November 3rd

AvaAt a little after seven, I step through the rustic, wooden doors of Emilio’s, a popular Italian restaurant located in the center of Little Italy. The establishment is packed to the gills, and I search around the medium-sized, softly lit space in search of my first official TapNext date—Brian Grove.

Otherwise known as Boat-Lover Brian to my best friend Luke.

I’m not sure why he’s making such a big deal out of this guy having a boat. Hobbies are a good thing. It shows he has something to work toward. An interest to occupy his time.

My stomach twists as I rub my fingers together—an old habit I started as a kid when my nerves are running wild—and search the restaurant for my date. To be honest, I know he has blondish hair and a clean-shaven face, but the rest of the details of his face are…foggy.

I try to pull up the app to take another look at him just to refresh my memory, but my phone refuses to load it for some reason. Something about the construction of the building must be jamming the data signal or something because my actual cell service seems to be just fine.

I spot a blond-headed man at the bar, but when I look closer, I realize he’s an obvious twenty years older than my date. Or your date is twenty years older than he claims to be…


Tags: Max Monroe Romance