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“And that’s when I was going through a minimalist phase,” she said with a shrug. “Now I’m all about cottage core.”

“Cottage core…” Hunter sounded like he was in real pain as he rubbed his forehead. “So, tomorrow?”

That fear was back again, crowding out the good feelings I’d been enjoying moments before, but I was a woman of my word.

“Tomorrow is no go. Hayden…” I couldn’t protect him from this knowledge. His own brother would tell him what was happening, so that meant I could too. “He’s on parental meeting duty. There’s a barbecue around at my brother’s place tomorrow, and after that, I’ll probably be crying in the foetal position in my bed.” Sometimes that’s what actually happened. “Monday?”

“You got it.”

Hunter had hugged me plenty of times before and I’d enjoyed the feel of that body, but this was different. As he tugged me closer and placed a kiss on the top of my head, there was a promise of intimacy that was both tantalising and terrifying.

“I’ll come by and pick you up from work. We’ll find something fun to do. Chill even.”

I wanted to ask what, get times, dates, locations, but I stopped myself and just smiled. Millie stayed quiet as he walked out of the pub, but I could feel her restless energy, and sure enough, when she turned around, she was grinning.

“So… apology accepted, huh? Huh?” She started to nudge me in the ribs with her elbow, forcing me to stage a counterattack, until everyone in the pub was treated to us shoving each other around, instead of me pashing Hunter.

“I may have been convinced to give him another chance. If he stuffs it up the next time?—”

“You’ll take one look at those baby blues and decide he needs another opportunity, just like everybody else does.” She rolled her eyes, then looked at me. “So, last thing I knew you were going out on a fake date with Brock.”

“Right.” I was used to being completely open with Millie. We’d giggled over how sloppy my first kiss with Derek was when we were still in school, navigated losing our virginities with a combination of curiosity and trepidation, but this? “What exactly do you want me to tell you?”

“Everything!” she said, escorting me back towards the bar. The results of the illicit bet were handed to the winners, the guys behind the bar grumbling about me ‘giving in too easily’ to Hunter. “Actually, no.” Millie rubbed her forehead. “God, I didn’t think this through. We are one-hundred percent not giving my brothers’ dicks a score out of ten.”

“You girls do that?” Mikey, one of the barman asked, looking at the other fellas in alarm.

“Of course,” Annie said. “All women do. We even have a website where we record the data to share with other women.”

Her manner was so completely dry, and combined with the weight of age and experience, I could see the guys’ eyes shifting around nervously, right up until the lot of us girls cracked up laughing.

“Bloody bitches…” Mikey muttered, going down the end of the bar to serve some people that had just arrived.

“So no dick scores,” I agreed. “Brock wowed my parents. I’m fairly sure Mum’s creating a Pinterest board as we speak with all our wedding details on it, and Brock invited Dad to the car show next week, so he thinks the sun shines out of your brother’s butt. Then Hayden…”

I looked up guiltily at Millie, realising there wasn’t much more I could safely say.

“You’ve got that little cutie dancing after you as well?” Annie asked, pushing another rum and Coke my way. “If I was younger…” She placed a hand on her heart. “I’d be the meat in that twin sandwich any day of the week.”

“Ew,” Millie said.

“We’ll have a threesome with you!” came a voice from further down the bar. “Especially if there’s free beer in it.”

“You should be paying me, you pricks,” she replied, tossing a tea towel at their heads. “And my husband would have something to say about that…” Annie moved down the bar to deal with them, leaving just me and Millie.

“And Hayden?”

“This is weird,” I said. “It’s really weird.”

“God, is it ever,” she hissed. “I didn’t really think this through. In my head it was ‘and kiss…’” She mimicked two dolls being made to kiss. “But the reality is way trickier. Like the friend in me wants you to ride my brother until he drops, but he…” She made this nauseating burp. “He’s my brother. In my mind he’s like a Ken Doll. Y’know, all smooth at the front.”

“Right.”

I one-hundred percent couldn’t tell her that her brother had serious big dick energy, or what we’d gotten up to this afternoon, so I took a sip of my drink and then said, “Well, we talked and then… we played poker.”

“Poker.” She shot me a flat look. “You played a card game with my brother. Right. So… who won?”

“We both did.” When I smirked, so did she, despite herself. “A lot. We each had a royal flush and?—”