Page 32 of When Javi Dumped Mari

Mari

Two Years and Two Months Before the Wedding

Maybe Javi’s right. Maybe we’re only meant to be friends. But how are we supposed to unwind the past twelve hours and pretend that we didn’t touch every inch of each other’s bodies? And why am I even contemplating giving this man a moment more of my time?

Because I like him, that’s why. Because I remember the guy who brought me ice cream when I broke up with a boyfriend.

Because the adult version of Javi isn’t perfect, but he’s sweet and gentle and ridiculously sexy, all of which is extremely compelling.

And also because my relationship with Javi feels like a blot on an otherwise impeccable résumé.

As if I worked toward a goal and didn’t accomplish it. That can’t stand.

I massage my temples, the piping hot coffee I was eagerly anticipating cooled to a tepid and inferior version of its former self.

A handsome white guy with dark hair and even darker eyes approaches our table.

“May I?” he asks me, pointing to the sugar pourer.

“Of course,” I say, absently.

“Happy to bring it back. Wouldn’t want you to go without.”

I look up at him. He’s standing at an angle that makes it impossible for Javi to see his face, and after he gives me a wink, I realize that he purposely positioned himself this way to flirt with me. I’m grumpy, but I also want to mess with Javi. When the guy’s gone, I say, “He was cute.”

“And an asshole,” Javi observes flatly. “He flirted with you even though I could be your boyfriend.”

“You aren’t.”

“That’s not the point.” Javi turns around and glares at the guy, who’s sitting a few tables over. “And he has three sugar pourers at his table, so apparently he’s not leaving this place without someone’s number. Maybe even three.”

How is Javi that observant? I would have assumed a server had left them there by accident. I purse my lips and blow out a slow breath.

“ And ,” Javi says, holding his index finger in the air, “he has a tan line where his wedding ring should be.”

Oh damn, that does it. I drop my head and slump my shoulders.

No. I’m not the one who should be dejected; these guys can go straight to hell. With a huff, I straighten, and then I shout loud enough for the attempted philanderer to hear: “Did you two coordinate this performance to show how terrible men can be?”

The guy slides down in his seat and turns away from us.

Javi’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “What did I do?”

“Have you not been sitting here the past twenty minutes? Or is being a ghost your entire personality.”

“I deserved that,” he says gravely.

“You sure did.”

God, I’m a disaster. Where’s your pride, Mari? Where the hell are your bad-bitch vibes? Okay, enough already. I am friend-zoning this man now and forever. And thanks to him, I know just how to do it.

I roll my shoulders, take a cleansing breath, and place my clasped hands on the table. “Be friends, you say?”

“Yeah,” Javi says. “Just like we used to be.”

“Before you bounced out of my life.”

“If you need me to do penance, I will. It’s only fair.”

“I’m not contemplating anything drastic—”

“But you’re contemplating something .”

“Well, of course. I’m always contemplating something.”

Javi side-eyes me. “Out with it, then.”

“I want us to make good on our pact.”

His brows snap together. “What pact?”

“The pact we made in college. The one about gatekeeping each other’s dates. We said we would vet them, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. We were kids, and you were drunk off your ass.”

“And yet I remember it like it was yesterday. C’mon, Javi, it’s still a good idea. I’m shit at dating, and I need someone to sift through all the crap and find me a gem of a boyfriend. You’re…”

“Also shit at dating, sure,” he finishes. “But I fail to see how you can help me.”

“Okay, stay with me a minute. What happened with the last person you dated?”

Javi sighs. “Um, it turns out she wanted to get to my brothers through me. As soon as I invited her to meet the family, she was all over Manny. It was embarrassing as hell.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry about that.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he says, shrugging. “We weren’t serious or anything.”

“Well, here’s where I would come in. I can ask the hard questions, the ones the person you’re dating would never answer honestly if you asked them.”

“How so?”

“Well, I would chitchat with her. I could be like, ‘Javi’s great, but have you met his brothers? They’re really hot. And successful. I mean, Javi’s cute and all that, but his brothers sing, and have money, and—’?”

“All right, all right, there’s no need to get so immersed in the role.” Javi leans forward and rests an elbow on the table. “Let’s say I’m cautiously entertaining the idea of making good on the pact. How do you see us doing this?”

“It’d be a thumbs-up, thumbs-down proposition. Either you approve or disapprove. If you disapprove, then I’d respect your judgment and move along. Honestly, I’m often blinded by thick lips and an even thicker dick.”

Javi grimaces.

See, Mari? This is good. This is what platonic friends do.

“But once the person receives a thumbs-up,” I continue, “I remove you from the equation, and it’s all up to me—and him.”

“And we’d do this for how long?”

“For however long the arrangement is serving us.”

He straightens, then nods. “I’m not sure we need to be so literal about this pact. I mean, what if you come up with bullshit reasons why I shouldn’t date someone?”

I square my shoulders and cross my arms over my chest. This is my moment, dammit.

I’ve literally been training for years. “Because, my friend, every contract imposes a duty of good faith, and our pact would be no different. I would have an obligation to use my best efforts to help you avoid a mistake, and you would have that same duty.”

“But what if I don’t want to date?”

“Then you don’t have to. It’s only when you do date that the pact is in play.”

“I feel like I’m missing something. Something big. Like this might bite me in the ass at some point.”

“Why would it?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “You ever do anything like this with Sasha and Brittany?”

“Oh God, no. They’re as hopeless as I am. See, the beauty of this is that it addresses the crux of the problem: our tendency to lose our objectivity when we start dating someone new. Remember how you always thought Rob had nefarious intentions?”

“I don’t think I used the word ‘nefarious.’ Sounds like SAT vocab.”

“My point is, I was so smitten it didn’t even occur to me to look for flags. But an impartial observer sees things you’re bound to miss.”

“Like a woman who wants to date one of my brothers.”

“Or a guy who’s dating several women at once and claiming he’s exclusive with each one.”

He cocks his head, frowning. “That happened to you?”

“It did,” I say, remembering the jerk who wasted far too much of my time in law school.

“If I could possibly help you avoid an experience like that, it’d be worth it. How would this work, though? Practically speaking. I mean, I’m here and you’re…there.”

“Well, I can be here often enough to do reconnaissance on your behalf when you need it. And then there’s always FaceTime and video meetings and all that.

I communicate with most of the people in my life through a screen anyway.

” I throw up my hands. “We’re smart people. I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“Are we really smart, though? Especially if we’re going to these extremes to get our love lives on track?”

Well, Javi doesn’t need to know this, but getting my love life on track isn’t the only reason I want to honor the pact.

I also want to keep him firmly ensconced in the friend zone, and the pact will ensure that happens.

“As usual, you’re overthinking this. It’ll be good for us, I promise.

” I offer my hand. “So, what do you say? Are you intrigued enough to at least try making good on it?”

He stares at me for a few beats, then says, “Yes, I’m sufficiently intrigued to accept your proposal on a trial basis.”

We shake on our agreement, and the moment feels promising. Friends don’t let friends date trash. And although watching Javi with other women will be tough, that’s exactly the kind of wake-up call I need.