Best Dating Rules, Tamie Dearen [literature books to read txt] 📗

don’t like girls. Not girls, plural. I like Emily. Okay? Only Emily. But I guess it doesn’t matter now.” He buried his head in his arms on the table.

“It can’t be too late. I’ll tell her you’re not a player.”

“And tell her what?” He spoke into his arms. “That you were mistaken? That I’ve actually never had a girlfriend?”

“Uhmm. No. Maybe not that.” She screwed up her face. “But I’ll think of something.”

He pushed back from the table and attacked the floury mess with a vengeance.

“No, I think you’ve done enough damage. I’m telling you, it’s too late. Today, she acted really strange, and she blew me off for a date we’d planned tomorrow night. Not that she would do anything with me that qualified as an actual date, anyway.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“Sure. Whatever. Look, I need to go upstairs and help Papa with the tiling. Can you get them to clean up this kitchen before Momma sees it?”

“Don’t worry about the kitchen. We’ll take care of it.” Grace followed him as he headed to the kitchen door and caught his arm. “Wait. I’m really sorry, Spencer. I never meant to hurt you.”

He turned around to see her eyes welling with tears. “Don’t cry, Gracie.” He reached out and pulled her into a hug. “It’ll be fine. It probably wasn’t meant to be. And you were right... I never worried about my reputation before. So, it wasn’t really your fault.”

Truthfully, he’d always rather enjoyed having a status as a player. His guy friends had treated him with a sort of awe and reverence. And the constant flirting of the girls had been enjoyable as well. His reputation had never mattered until he met Emily. He rubbed his temples—his head was hurting. This had been a terrible day, but he felt almost relieved his sister knew the truth.

He brightened a bit. “You can make it up to me.”

“How?” She narrowed her eyes.

“There are some people going to the Green Scene tomorrow night, and I think the girl who took that tabloid picture might be there. I want to go so I can confront her. But Becca’s going to be there, and I don’t want to do anything to encourage her.”

“So you want me to go with you and run interference?”

“Would you do that?”

“Absolutely, big brother. It would be my pleasure.”

“I thought that sounded like the sort of devious thing you’d like. And one more thing…”

“What?”

Spencer took three quick steps to grab the kitchen door and pull it open. Three sisters tumbled into the room on top of each other.

He speared them with a stern look until they all stopped giggling. “All of you will keep this information to yourselves. Or else!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they keep their mouths zipped. Really. I mean it. You’ll see.”

“I’m not holding my breath.” He headed up the stairs to work with his father.

Chapter Eight

“So, I went to a hot yoga class last night,” Connie confessed to Anne as she set up a fresh IV.

“I’ve heard of that. What is it, exactly? Was it fun?”

“Well, let’s see. How can I describe it? They put you in what you think is an exercise room, but actually turns out to be an oven. Then they turn the temperature up to about two hundred degrees. I know it was below boiling, because all the sweat that ran off of me soaked into my clothes and then started falling into puddles on the floor mat. Only a little hotter and it would have turned into steam.”

Anne started giggling. “So you just stood in a room and roasted?”

“Oh no. Then they make you get into strange and contorted positions, so you can lose your balance and fall into the sweat puddles and splash your neighbors.”

Anne was laughing harder. “Ow! You’re making my stomach hurt.”

“I should have suspected something when I first went in the room because it smelled so bad. But you can’t imagine the aroma of all those people sweltering and sweating together for an hour. I don’t know if my eyes were watering from the fumes or from the sweat running into my eyes.”

“Stop! Please!” Anne laughed. “I can’t believe you stayed in there for an hour.”

“I tried to get out,” Connie declared with a straight face. “The door was locked. I banged on the glass door and screamed for help, but the people on the outside of the glass simply laughed and turned up the thermostat.”

“Ohmygosh—you’re killing me!”

“I passed out and almost drowned in my personal pool of sweat. But just in time the class ended. When I stepped out into the air conditioning, my sweaty clothes froze stiff. So I had to pry them off in the locker room, and I threw them away, rather than touch them again.”

“So, I guess that’s the end of hot yoga for you?” Anne wiped at tears of laughter.

“Oh no. I sweated away five pounds in an hour—it was worth it.” Connie laughed. “I’ve known I needed to lose a few pounds for a while, but being around you has made me feel like an elephant.”

“Right now, I’d make a stork feel like an elephant. Please don’t use me as your measure.”

“No, I’m kidding. My nursing training has motivated me to try to be healthier. I’m trying to exercise and eat better, too. And I’m determined to fatten you up a bit as soon as we can.”

Would she ever really be able to gain weight? Every bite of food was still a challenge. Her nausea was barely in control, and strong smells still made her sick. But she couldn’t let people know, especially Steven. She had to be strong for him—he already worried too much. She plastered on a happy face.

“Thanks, Connie. I’m sure I’ll be able to eat more and more each day. You’ve been a life-saver for me.”

Connie gave her shoulder a little pat. “You hang in there, honey. We’ll get it figured out.”

“How’s Spencer?” Anne asked, trying to sound