Page 83 of The Friends and Rivals Collection

ON A SCALE OF ONE TO TEN

Emerson

Ordinarily, I don’t like hot dogs. Which is weird, since, hello? Phallic food is fun. But hot dogs I can take or leave.

Usually, leave.

That was before I found Your Dog Loves These Wieners, a food truck in Central Park with dachshund drawings all over the vehicle and decadent veggie dogs on the menu.

I lift the long dog, bring it to my mouth, and meet Nolan’s eyes. “Will it fit?”

With a snort, he turns to the camera, delivers an aside. “She said the same thing to me last night.”

I roll my eyes. This guy . “Please. I’m the mistress of handling that . I’m talking about this veggie dog, babe.”

“Try it, honey .”

“I will,” I say, then open wide and bite down. And wow. Just holy delicious fake meat, that tastes fantastic mixed with mustard and avocados and pesto and happiness.

I moan around the dog.

“Damn, that’s quite a foodgasm,” he remarks.

“But would you do it again?” a voice calls out from the crowd gathered around the truck.

I meet the young woman’s bright blue eyes, glance at her inked arms, her excited smile.

The question echoes through my mind like it did at the vegan café a few months ago when I was missing Nolan dreadfully.

When I was trying to figure out all my stuff.

What I’d fight for. What I’d ask for. What I could let go of. What I desperately wanted to have.

Now, the question’s easy to answer.

I’d do it all again, every second, because I love where I am. I’m living my best life, not Callie’s or anyone else’s.

So, the answer is yes.

Though, right now, the inked fan only wants to know if I’d do the dog again. And that answer is an easy one too.

“Yes. This one’s a ten.”

Nolan pretends to stumble. “Whoa. You’ve never given a ten before.”

He’s right. I give good scores, but never perfect ones.

I shrug. “This hot dog rates it. There’s just one other thing I’d give a ten.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

I step forward, drop a chaste kiss onto his lips, then say, “You.”

The audience coos.

He blushes.

And I swoon like I do every day with my co-host—my love.

Nolan’s my ten, and maybe that’s why our show turned into a bona fide hit. We’ve always had chemistry. Turns out that was more powerful than all the what-ifs in the world.

After the shoot, we head up Central Park West to our place. Nolan never got the sublease in Queens. He moved into Jo’s apartment with me. It made financial sense and all the other kinds of sense too. I want to be with him. He wants to be with me.

So, we’re together.

It was that simple.

It just was.

And I breathe, free and easy, at last.

Other things are simple too. Like friendships—a few nights later, Katie and Harlan fly into town for a sports award gala. Jason is here too, heading to a related event—a pro-athlete player auction.

“Bet you only go for a dollar tomorrow,” Nolan ribs when Jason joins us at Gin Joint.

“More like top dollar,” Jason says. He ruffles Nolan’s hair then brings me in for a big hug. “Thank you for making my brother happy,” he whispers.

I hug him harder. “It goes both ways.”

“I know. He only talks about you all the time. And always has.” He lets go just as Katie and Harlan push through the bar’s front door.

Jason flops onto the couch, tipping his chin toward Nolan. “As for tomorrow night’s auction, I’ve got my best suit. No one can resist a hot athlete in a sharp suit.”

Katie jumps right into the conversational fray. “Suits are catnip. They’re pretty much the reason I stay with this clown,” she says, pointing to her hubs.

Harlan clears his throat then pats Katie’s growing belly. “My suits and my offspring, sweetheart.”

Katie plants a kiss on his cheek. “That too.”

A little later, Jo sails into Gin Joint, looking fabulous, practically glowing. I squeal when I see her, then race over and give her a hug. “Details. Tell me everything about London and that guy ,” I say.

She’s kept me updated about her life and love overseas via FaceTime and texts, but I steal her for a few minutes and get the latest.

“So, there you go,” she says when she’s done.

“I can’t wait to find out what happens next,” I say.

With a laugh, she admits, “Me too.”

When we rejoin the group, Nolan’s chatting with Katie and Harlan, so I turn to Jason, eager to hear what my boyfriend’s brother is up to. The auction is a big deal to him, and I have a feeling all his suit-wearing plans are deliberate.

“So is there someone in particular you hope won’t resist you in your suit?”

With a smile, he dips his face. And yes, I think it’s safe to say he’s hoping something —or someone—happens at the auction.