Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
“But this isn’t a real romance,” I remind them.
Turns out they knew before I even did. Everly first heard news of our wedding on social like the rest of the world. But that makes sense since she’d be tracking team news. Before I went to my catering gig the other night, I told them everything over FaceTime—the marriage pact, the wedding, and why we’re staying married.
“Not a real romance?” Fable stares at me, doubt in her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Now, now,” Josie says, cutting in and giving our redheaded friend a knowing glance, “just because one person in our friend group wound up in a fake-romance-turned-real doesn’t mean that’ll happen again.” Josie coughs for effect. It’s a pointed reminder—Fable ended up falling for her fake romance with her boss over the holidays.
“It’s not going to be like that with Asher. The ring is for show. Because we’re friends. Just friends,” I insist, but then why do I want to shop alone with him? Maybe because it is fake? Maybe because if they go along, it’d feel too real? I’m not sure. “This is just...”
I’m not even sure how to label the unexpected marriage of convenience to my best friend. In Vegas, saying I do was fun. Now we’re stuck together for at least a few weeks as…what exactly? A cover-up? A solution to both our problems? A viral hitching? My thoughts whirl with all the ways our temporary arrangement feels like it doesn’t belong to us but to the world.
“It’s just…what?” Fable presses gently, seeming to sense my hesitation. “I mean, you did have that kiss after the auction.”
And many more kisses in Vegas. The hottest kisses of my life that ended with a surprise O.
I part my lips, tempted to tell them everything that happened in the hotel room on the couch. But I stop myself. What’s the point? It won’t happen again. It can’t happen again. But also, that detail—the way I felt falling apart with Asher—feels too private. Too personal.
“It’s just a performance for a few weeks,” I say, speaking only of our fake marriage now. “It’s a rom com without the rom. A make-believe match.”
“That’s a good name for a book,” Josie says, a gleam in her eye.
“I bet it already is a book,” Leighton adds, setting down her mug. “Or a movie.”
“Why don’t you sell your life rights, Maeve?” Josie teases. “You always live your life in full color, and it ought to be on screen.”
I pause for a moment, letting her observation sink in, like a coda to the words my mother shared in her final days. Follow your dreams. It was as if she was speaking to the deepest part of me that she alone understood—the part that has bold, wild, too big dreams. The truest part of me ever since I was little. I’ve never been the shy one. I’ve never been the wallflower. I’m the one who climbs the highest trees, who swings from branches, who jumps into rivers. I’m the one who tries the zip lines too, rides the upside-down roller coaster, dives headfirst into the crashing ocean waves. But that’s not always the healthiest way to adult, is it? Maybe I need to turn down the volume on me from time to time. Like my exes have always told me.
“Look, you know I want to go shopping with all of you. But,” I say, stopping to meet all of their gazes, these women I love deeply, “maybe it’s best I don’t make too big a deal of the ring shopping. I don’t want to get caught up in things. You know me. I get invested. I get too interested. I can’t let that happen with a fake relationship.”
My heart sinks a little saying that, but my friends nod and murmur in understanding.
“I get that,” Leighton says, practically, but then seems to drift off into a memory for a beat, adding, “We can’t always have what we want.”
I give her a curious look. “Something going on?”
Leighton quickly shakes her head, but her fingers drift to one of those flower earrings. “No. Sorry. I didn’t mean to steal focus. I’m just saying I understand and no worries on the ring shopping. Do it your way.”
“Just send us pics after you get it, okay?” Josie asks.
“Obviously,” I say, and I love that they accept my answer. I’m glad, too, that I finally understand why I want to go alone with Asher. So I don’t get too caught up.
I glance at the time then shift gears, my stomach swooping as I think about the brunch looming closer. “We have to meet with the team owners soon. Any tips for that? That’s where I could really use the help.”
Before anyone can answer, footsteps grow louder, then I feel a presence behind me. I turn just as Asher reaches us, and my breath catches. My eyes roam up his tall, rugged frame. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since Saturday night at the party. Have his shirts always hugged his muscles just so? Has his grin always been that lopsidedly sexy? Has his thick hair always looked so invitingly tousled? My fingers tingle with the desire to touch him.