“I need your help,” I repeat. “And seeing how I pulled some strings to get the two of you together, you’re basically obligated to help me.”
“What strings?” Stella says.
Roman puffs air through his lips. “You didn’t pull any strings.”
“I got you that counseling session?—”
“You?” Stella says, eyes wide.
“And it was a killer deal, seeing how her license had expired.”
“Expired?” Roman says. “You set us up with a bogus counselor?”
“I helped get you the girl.” My jaw clenches. “And now I need the same help from you. Stella, I know you’re married, but are you opposed to luring Maggie’s date outside where Roman will be waiting to bust his kneecap?”
“Yes, she is very opposed,” Roman whines. “My pregnant wife isn’t luring anyone anywhere.”
“She doesn’t even look pregnant.”
“That’s kind of beside the point,” Stella says, her face contorting. “Back up one sec. Lucca, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Yes, I mean it,” I say, feeling impatient. “I would never know you have a bun in the oven.”
She smacks my shoulder. “Not that. Are you saying you have feelings for Maggie? You want helpgetting the girl?”
I breathe in, then exhale, my shoulders slumping. “Yes. I adore her.”
A grin spreads across Stella’s cheeks. “Fran was right. That woman seriously knows her romance cues.”
“Youadoreher?” Roman says, not quite as believing as his wife.
“Yes,” I huff. “It snuck up on me. I was surprised to call her my friend. So, this—well, it’s not what I expected either. But yes, I very much like Maggie McCrae. Now, who’s going to help me get rid of Melvin?”
Twenty-Eight
I peekaround Mark to Lucca across this long table and two seats down. There are people sitting everywhere—on the living room couch, the kitchen bar, out on the deck, even. And yet, I somehow got seated at this long dining table with Lucca, Mark, and a handful of Red Tails. I peek at the man who’s been texting me every night since he stole my number from Callum.
And he is peeking back. Though Lucca doesn’t try to hide anything. He grins and waves. Mark follows my gaze, then lifts a hand to wave back at Lucca, and that Brazilian scowls.
What’s his problem?
I get why he didn’t like Reggie, but Mark is perfectly respectable. We’ve been friends forever. He is the ideal pick for a last-minute date—and that’s what I needed.
“I don’t think your soccer friend likes me,” Mark says, leaning his head toward mine.
“That’s ridiculous,” I lie. “He doesn’t even know you.”
“And yet,” Mark says, wrapping one arm around the back of my chair, then peering back at Lucca, “I’m pretty sure he loathes me.”
“Well,” I say, looking at Lucca, who studies us. “He’s kind of an idiot. Don’t worry about it.”
“Mel,” Lucca suddenly calls down this long table.
“It’s Mark,” I snap. Other Red Tails glance Lucca’s way, then ours. But I had to say something. He’s being rude for absolutely no reason.
But Lucca keeps going as if I haven’t said a word. “Have you met Kaylee?” He motions to the woman next to him.
The woman holds her hand across this table, grabbing the attention of everyone else seated here.
