Page 85 of Gold Rush

I scoff. “Flynn and I aren’t soulmates.”

“Why not?” She takes another sip from her drink, genuinely asking, like she’s not already aware of the answer.

I stare at her. Decide she’s serious. “Lili, he’s Flynn Parks.”

“And you’re Rory Kensington.”

I huff a small laugh. “Do you know how many girls at Dalton had crushes on him? All of them. The second week of 1L, someone joined my study group just because she had seen me talking to him at orientation and wanted to know if he was single. I’m not trying to be self-deprecating—I’m really not—but I’m not delusional either. We’re not in the same league. He could be with anyone. Literally. I’ve seen moms flirt with him at your grandparents’ Red, White, and Blue party.”

“He could be with anyone? He chose you, Rory.”

I exhale, frustrated. The impracticality of lying to everyone was supposed to be problematic because of my guilt, not because it meant I couldn’t tell my cousin that Flynn only chose me because I wasn’t reckless or impulsive or interesting enough for his father to disapprove of our engagement. That he chose me because of a criteria that had nothing to do with attraction or affection or anything remotely romantic.

“I guess.”

Lili eyes me, hearing the lack of conviction in my tone.

My phone buzzes on the table. I seize it, happy for a distraction. “Shouldn’t you be waiting by the stage for your big moment?”

“For our big moment. That’s why I came over. Come sing with me. As a wedding present.”

“I already bought your present. And there is no way that I’m …” My voice trails as I scan the latest message, forgetting what I was saying.

Flynn: How’s Montreal?

“You’d better not be answering emails.” Wren plops down on my other side, leaning closer so she can see the screen. “Aww. He misses you.”

“Flynn texted?” Lili tries to see too.

“Don’t answer right away,” Wren advises. “Keep him guessing.”

“I have a better idea.” Lili waves at a group of guys nearby. “Yoo-hoo. You four! Over here.”

Lili, like Wren, has little sense of what social anxiety is. Whereas I sink back against the booth, face flushing, wondering what she’s up to. Lili scoots out of the booth when the guys approach, standing and holding court as they circle around her. Her hands move as she talks, the club lights reflecting off the huge diamond on her left hand. The guys nod, and Lili spins around to face the booth again.

“Give me your phone,” she shouts so I can hear her over the music.

Wren picks it up and holds it out before I can, sliding out of the booth as the guys approach. Two of them sit in the spots Lili and Wren were just occupying, and the other two take up the remaining space. I’m suddenly surrounded by men.

“Everyone smile,” Lili calls. “Gabriel, stretch your arm across the booth.”

The blond man on my left does exactly as she said, beaming at the camera. I smile, too, despite—or because of—the ridiculousness of the moment.

Lili squints at my phone screen, then announces, “Perfect! Thank you for your help, gentlemen. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Obediently, the men slide back out of the booth.

Lili returns to her previous spot, passing me my phone with a smirk. “Send that to him.”

I study the photo she took. I curled my hair earlier, and Lili did my makeup with a smoky effect that I don’t know how to create. I’m wearing a dress Wren picked out—low-cut with a small silk bow between my boobs. I look good, I think, and the photo suggests I have my pick of prospects.

Still, I hesitate. “It seems childish.”

“A little jealousy never hurt anyone,” Lili says flippantly. “Charlie and I had sex on the hood of his car after I flirted with some other guys in front of him. This will be even better since he won’t see you until Monday. Trust me.”

I stare at the picture again. Will this make Flynn jealous? He’s possessive when we have sex, and he was annoyed I was talking to Knox. But he knows I would never break our deal—that I’m not going to hook up with a random Canadian man. He’s not even really my boyfriend.

I send the photo, reaching for my cocktail as soon as Delivered appears beneath the message.