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“Satisfied now?” Oliver asks with an indulgent smile.
“Yes, but there is always room for more happiness…”
“Dessert?” Oliver guesses correctly.
“Shall we?”
“Of course,” Oliver says, picking up the menu again. “What do you feel like?”
After we have placed our dessert orders, Oliver brings us back to the task at hand, a crash course in how to fake date your best friend. We pick up from where we left off, and he summarises. “So we were friends who are now lovers,” he says, causing me to blush to the tips of my ears, “and we are madly in love and can’t keep our hands off each other?”
As Oliver says the words madly in love, it is like a bomb explodes in my mind, and I am blinded by the realisation that what Oliver is saying is true. For me. Not the part about being lovers, but the being-in-love part? That is true. I am so in love with Oliver that I can’t even see straight. How has it taken me so long to work this out? I have always been OK with the small crush I have on him. It has always been there, a part of me, like another limb. It has even been a big enough deal in my life to make the number four spot on my New Year’s resolution to-do list, but honest-to-goodness love? I never considered it. I look at Oliver now, at his handsome and oh-so-familiar face, with dimples I can drown in, and my heart gives a painful squeeze. Of course I love him. I have always loved him. And now, with this knowledge, I have to play the role of his pretend girlfriend for a weekend to save face for a useless ex-boyfriend I have never loved. What have I done? This is so much more complicated now.
At seeing what must be my stricken expression, Oliver rushes to say, “We don’t have to be all over each other, Lilly. I was just using it as an example.”
I take a big sip of water, choking as it goes down the wrong way, and finally gasp, “No, it’s fine. It’s all good. The plan is solid. No need to talk about it anymore.”
“But…” Oliver goes to say something more, still looking at me with concern.
“Oh, look, our dessert is here.” I grab hold of a plate of tiramisu like it is a lifeline out of this conversation. “Let’s dig in!” I add with forced enthusiasm.
Oliver gives me a strange look but does as I say, and we both finish our dessert in silence. Once we settle the bill—Oliver insisting on paying, saying it is his “duty as my boyfriend to pay for my dinner”—we walk to Oliver’s car.
“Are you sure you are OK, Lil? Is it the fact that Sebastian is getting married that has you a bit upset?” Oliver asks with quiet compassion.
“No, Ol. I could not care any less about Seb. I guess maybe I am just tired? Shopping is like a cardio workout for me,” I offer as a lame excuse.
“OK, well, let’s get you home to bed.” He blushes a bit, perhaps at the implications of his words. “To your bed, on your own, by yourself,” he adds in a rush.
With some of my composure restored, I can laugh a little at his discomfort. Squeezing his arm, I say, “Yes, let’s get me to my bed, all alone, by myself.”
Oliver joins me with a little laugh, and the weird tension that has been building since my life-altering revelation dissipates somewhat. Until I remember that I now know I am in love with my friend, and I have no clue what I am going to do about it.
CHAPTER 22
Oliver
After I drop Lilly back at her apartment, I drive home, lost in thought about the time we just spent together. I was clearly not thinking straight when I offered to go dress shopping with Lilly, not anticipating how she would actually look in all the revenge dress candidates. My stomach tightens as I picture Lilly in those dresses. She is so gorgeous. The preview of what she is going to look like at the wedding, when she will be all glammed up, is making me think I am going to have a lot of trouble keeping my hands to myself this weekend. Though, I am playing the role of her fake boyfriend, so maybe my hands can have a bit more freedom than they are usually allowed around Lilly. I smile at this thought, grateful again that Amy proposed this little fake-dating plan for the two of us.
As I drive, I think about the strange way Lilly was acting towards the end of dinner. I wonder if she is in fact feeling more upset about the Sebastian breakup and subsequent wedding than she is letting on. I will need to make sure I am extra sensitive to this over the weekend in case she needs me to comfort her. As a pretend boyfriend, of course.
I also reluctantly think about how and when I am going to make up for all these hours I am taking off when I should be working. Right now is a critical time in my career, with that upcoming promotion in sight, and yet ever since I agreed to be Lilly’s fake boyfriend, I cannot seem to find the enthusiasm to spend all my extracurricular hours working. It is becoming apparent that being with Lilly is taking centre stage in my life, something I always feared would happen.
As I approach my street, almost home, my phone rings, and I see Dale is calling me. I answer him, using my Bluetooth device for safety reasons, of course.
“Hey, man, what are you up to?” Dale asks.
“Nothing much. I just dropped Lilly off at her apartment and am heading home,” I tell him with some reluctance. Dale has been like a dog with a bone when it comes to me and Lilly.
True to form, Dale jumps on this bit of information. “Excellent news. So you finally asked her out?”
“Not exactly.” I fill Dale in on the upcoming plans to be Lilly’s pretend boyfriend at her ex-boyfriend’s weekend wedding.
“So you see? It’s a foolproof plan. A way to show Lilly that we are good together. With no pressure.”
Ever direct, Dale tells me, “You have got the fool bit right. Man, this sounds like a recipe for disaster. And it sounds like something a man like you would never take part in. Not in a million years.”
Dale is right about this one thing. My life is so structured, filled with plans and plans to make plans, that the thought of my spending a weekend at the wedding of two complete strangers, play-acting as Lilly’s boyfriend, is ludicrous. However, I know in my gut that if Lilly and I have any chance of being something more than friends, this is the step I have to take. So I shake my head at him, even though I know he can’t see me.
