Page 56 of About That Pact

“You look like shit.” Elena was full of compliments.

He didn’t comment back because he probably did look like shit.

“Do you need Pedialyte? It works for hangovers,” she paused. “And water—you need to drink lots of water.”

Gabriella rolled her eyes. “How would you know anything about hangovers? You’re still in your twenties. Hangovers don’t happen until you hit the thirty mark. Then, it’s all downhill from there.”

“Says the wine connoisseur, who just turned thirty and probably never gets a hangover,” Elena swatted back.

“If you drink the right wine, you don’t feel like crap the next day.”

“Then you can’t ignore my solid advice of Pedialyte since you’ve never been hungover.”

The two of them arguing, even if in jest, could go on all night. Rafe was in no mood to deal with their back and forth over his non-existent hangover.

“Stop. I’ll be fine,” he mumbled. Which wasn’t a lie, exactly. He was sure at some point he wouldn’t feel like shit anymore.

His mom got off the phone and shooed them out of the kitchen. He went to sit on the patio, his sisters hot on his trail.

“What did you drink?” Elena asked with menace. She didn’t believe the hangover lie with the way she looked at him.

“Can’t you go bother Dad?”

“Nope,” Gabriella said, sitting next to him. “You know how he is when AC Milan plays. If we talk about anything other than soccer, he loses it.”

“Especially if we call it soccer and not fútbol,” Elena added. “Anyway, you don’t seem hungover, you seem sad.”

He leaned his head back on the chair. “I am not sad.”

His response didn’t deter her. “You seem break-up sad.”

Elena and Gabriella shared another look, but before they could keep digging for details, his mom called them in for dinner. Which was a relief. He wasn’t sure how much more of his sisters he could endure.

They sat around the table, Gabriella giving details on the Pinot Noir they were going to drink with the pasta. According to her, the fresh fruit taste paired well with the cream sauce in the fettuccine. She lit up, giving them the lesson because wine was her passion. He was proud of his sister for following her dream of working in a winery, but he needed her to speed up her speech so he could eat and run.

Finally, they were eating, and Rafe did his best to stay low key. The less he spoke, the less Frick and Frack could analyze his answers. They were scary when they were on a mission.

Until his mom brought up Vegas.

“Two more weeks and we’ll be on vacation!” his mom squealed with excitement.

Everyone started talking at once, other than Rafe. In all his emotional roller coaster since he and Charlotte ended things, he’d somehow forgotten about Vegas.

Fuck.

He did not want to go on a huge vacation with Charlotte and their families. With certainty, they would notice something amiss between Rafe and Charlotte. Sure, what happened years ago had been brutal because it was after the first time they slept together. But in hindsight, they were young and everyone around them assumed they outgrew each other as friends. The fighting between them was laughable to their families and had never been made into anything serious. It was easy to jab at each other under the veil it was all a joke, when in reality, they were angry and holding on to a bitter grudge.

What happened all those years ago didn’t compare to the heartbreak today.

“So, wait—who all is going from the five families?” Elena asked.

This piqued his interest. Maybe Charlotte had decided to bail.

His mom gleamed with eagerness. “Can you believe it, all of us are going. And obviously, all of my friends.”

“Mom,” Elena brushed this to the side. “We know your friends are going. Tell us about our friends. You know, the people in our age group we can actually make wild Vegas stories with.”

Their dad shot Elena a warning look. “There will be no wild Vegas stories happening in the Bianchi family.”