“I know that. You have to keep in mind that what might be perfect for all of you might not be the right guy for me. I spent a lot of time thinking about this list, about the kinds of qualities I wanted in a man.”

“What about honesty and honor and integrity?” Megan asked.

“Yes, I agree with all those attributes. But that’s not what this list is about. It’s about the types of things I want—and maybe don’t want—in my perfect man.”

“You keep saying perfect.” Samantha looked her straight on. “I don’t think I’m the only one who’s going to tell you the perfect man doesn’t exist.”

Chelsea nodded. “I know. This is an idea in my head. Just go with it, for me, okay? I’ve had my share of dates. I know what I want now, and I’m going to find it.”

Megan handed the notebook to her. “That’s all you can ask for, then. That’s all any of us could ask for, right?”

She knew these women would understand. “Exactly. Now I just have to figure out how to find him.”

Emma came over and sat next to her, laying her hand on Chelsea’s shoulder. “He’s out there, Chelsea. He’s probably out there right now, looking for you.”

Chelsea wondered if that were true. She could almost picture him in her head, a hazy figure shrouded in darkness.

She felt like he was close, that she was close to meeting him, to having her happily ever after.

But tonight wasn’t about her happily ever after. It was about Des.

“I think everyone needs a refill on their drinks.” She stood and led them all into the kitchen.

“Now we’re talking,” Des said as Chelsea fixed them another round of cocktails.

Fortunately, there was amazing food to go with the drinks, because they wanted Des to pace herself. Not that Chelsea felt Des was listening, because within the next few hours Des did a lot more drinking than eating.

“She’s doing it up right,” Emma said, leaning against Chelsea as they all watched Des dance in the middle of the entryway. “There’s nothing like living it up and saying goodbye to your single days.”

“That girl hasn’t been single since the day she laid eyes on Logan,” Chelsea said. “This whole ‘last week of being single’ thing is a state of mind.”

Jane laughed. “Okay, you might be right there. But she’s enjoying the heck out of her state of mind tonight.”

Des came over and grasped Chelsea’s hands. “Come on. You have to dance with me.”

“Sure, honey.”

At least they weren’t in a bar or a nightclub, though everyone was taking a lot of pictures to send to Logan. Either way, Chelsea intended for Des to have a very good time, so she got out in the middle of the floor and danced her ass off with Des.

“To Logan—and his dumbass decision to get married, despite all my warnings.”

Logan grinned and downed his shot. “Thanks, Bash.”

They all downed shots, then several of the guys headed over to the pool tables. Logan hung out at the bar with Bash.

It was good to take a night off, especially on a weekend. And maybe it was costing him money, closing on a Saturday night, but this was for his best friend, and all the guys pitched in to cover the cost of the booze.

Anything for Logan, who’d come to his rescue more than once.

They’d had food and plenty of drinks, and despite their best efforts, Logan didn’t yet appear to be drunk.

Logan’s phone buzzed—again.

“Another picture of your woman?”

“Yeah.” Logan picked up his phone and looked at the picture, his lips ticking up.

“What?”

“Check this one out.” He handed the phone to Bash.

Bash couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Des, obviously drunk, was dancing with Chelsea. Both of them wore body-clinging dresses, though Bash only had eyes for Chelsea. She had her arms up over her head, which raised her dress up to her thighs. She had long, beautiful legs, and those stiletto heels she wore only made her legs look longer. She’d pulled her hair up tonight, but pieces of it fell across her face. She wore some feathery thing across her neck, but the feathers teased her cleavage. She had her eyes closed, her head thrown back, and she looked like she was in ecstasy.

He’d like to see that look on her face—when the two of them were alone.

Hell, he’d like to put that look on her face.

“Did you even notice Des in the picture, my man, or were you just looking at Chelsea?”

Bash frowned and handed the phone back to Logan. “Des is shit-faced. And of course I was looking at her. Hardly even noticed Chelsea.”

“Uh-huh.” Logan gave him a you’re-full-of-shit look. “I was big into denial with Des. Didn’t help.”

“I’m not denying anything. Chelsea and I have nothing together.”

“Which doesn’t mean you’re not into her.”

He wasn’t about to deny that, so he shrugged and poured Logan another shot, with a beer on the side. “You need to keep drinking.”

Logan downed the shot and grabbed the beer, taking a sip. “You’re avoiding.”

“I’m not avoiding anything, but you’re avoiding me kicking your ass in pool.”

“Come on.” Logan shook his head, and they moved to the pool table and shot a few games.

Though Bash noticed that whenever Logan wasn’t up to shoot, he’d pull his phone out of his pocket. And he kept shaking his head and smiling.