"Tomorrow?"
"Noon. I'll pick you up,” he says casually, as if we’re going to lunch, not picking up a sister I just agreed to marry.
He's already walking away, and I'm rooted to the spot, my brain completely short-circuiting.
Olsen leans over, his eyes wide. "Dude. Did you just agree to marry a girl you've never met?"
"I—" I look down at my beer, then back at Luka's retreating form. "I think so?"
Hunter's cackling so hard he's crying. "Oh my god. This is the best thing that's ever happened."
"This isn't funny,” I say.
"It's a little funny,” Aleksi adds.
"I thought he was joking!"
"Why the hell would you think that?" Trey asks, as if he had already seen the ending before it all started. "He literally said the words, 'You marry my sister.'"
"I thought he was being hypothetical."
"Hypothetical?" JP's wheezing now. "East, you shook on it. In a room full of witnesses. You're screwed. You can’t forfeit a bet. You’re stuck with it now."
I drain the rest of my beer in one long gulp, my mind racing.
Trey walks over and slaps my shoulder. “I’d like to be the first to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials.” The room of players starts laughing.
This is fine.
It's a joke. It has to be a joke.
Luka's just messing with me. He'll show up tomorrow, laugh his ass off, and that'll be the end of it.
Even if he had a sister, there’s no way he could trust any of us with her.
Right?
Wrong.
The next morning, I wake up to a text from Luka.
Luka:Be ready at 11:30. Wear something decent.
I stare at the screen, my stomach sinking.
Me:You're serious about this?
Luka:Dead serious. See you in an hour.
"Shit."
I drag myself out of bed, shower, and throw on the least wrinkled button-down I can find. My hands are shaking slightly as I make coffee, which is ridiculous because I never shake, and this is still probably a prank.
Probably.
At 11:25, there's a knock on my door.
I open it to find Luka standing there, wearing jeans and a Henley, looking annoyingly calm.
