“There’s no Covey situation. We’re friends. That’s it.” My mind flashes back to the diner, him sitting there with a waffle on his plate, covering it in maple syrup before digging in, the biggest grin on his face as he told me a story about a mishap during a show back in Amsterdam.
“Sure.” He waves his hand like there’s some code we’ve agreed on here. “But, I like him.”
“Of course you do, everyone likes Covey.” Not entirely true, but it should be. “He’s amazing.” What’s not to love about someone so sweet and full of energy?
Silas eyes me suspiciously.
“He’s a good friend.” I’m lucky enough to have met him early on. The most amazing guy who somehow saved me on the first day of school and kept doing it nearly every day after. Maybe that’s why I agreed to this whole thing now. It’s my chance, for once, to swoop in and save him. Be the hero he’s always been to me.
“And how is he as a boyfriend?” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes dramatically.
“No idea. Remember, that’s the part we’re faking.” My chest clenches as I say the words. It all feels so real, effortless. So much easier than my usual lackluster relationships.
“Oh, come on. At least use the full range of benefits. I mean, if you aren’t able to go out and get some in other places, then it only makes sense for your fake boyfriend to offer some real benefits.” I stare at him, mouth half open at the words. “What?”
“I’m trying to remember why I’m friends with you.”
“Because I’m amazing. And because I’m going to do this whole chaperone thing without giving you too much shit about it.” I suspect his definition oftoo muchand mine might be drastically different.
“Something like that.” I turn away and go back to my work. “It’s not like it’s such a big loss for me to go a few weeks without dating.” Honestly, there’s a nearly one hundred percent chance I wouldn’t have gone on a single date during this time. The holidays are not the ideal time to go around picking people up—women or men—and starting a relationship.
It might work for a night or two, but I want something more fulfilling. A relationship that’s about more than sex. Where my college friends bragged about their conquests and seemed energized after a hookup, I always felt empty. It’s a feeling I’m not looking to continually replicate.
“Covey and I talked about it and agreed on some parameters for physical contact.”
“Parameters for physical contact,” Silas impersonates me with a robotic voice. “So does that mean you can fuck him?”
I sigh. This conversation is going nowhere except to a place where I reconsider my friendships. “Language.”
“The kids aren’t even here.”
“It’s still good practice. It’ll keep you from saying something stupid later when theyarehere.” That’s my philosophy. The minute I make exceptions, I start dropping f-bombs in the middle of story time. I’m pretty sure that’s a good way to get myself fired. Or worse.
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Can I interest you in changing the subject if it comes with a beer?” I offer.
“I’m listening.”
“That’s the whole thing. I’m bribing you with a drink—one drink. In or out?”
“Sold, but I’m only dropping the topic for the night. It’s coming back for you.” He tilts his head to the side. “You owe me.”
COVEY
“Are you even paying attention?” The way Krisztina says it, it’s not a question. She’s already decided. The worst part isthat she’s right. My brain seems to have wandered off somewhere around our fifteenth attempt. Not great considering how little it was doing before then. Brain and body are not on the same page today.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “Let’s do it one more time.” She huffs but resets to her starting position. Honestly, if she chose to walk out of the room without another word, I wouldn’t be surprised. A little disappointed but not surprised. It’s been one screw up after another. I’ve done everything except drop her, but there have been a few close calls.
I hit play on the music and wait for the cue for my entrance. I wish I could say everything suddenly came together, but it didn’t. Not even close. Where there’s usually a sense of flow and connection, today I’m all thumbs and toes. Partnering feels foreign, like my limbs aren’t even attached to my body. I haven’t felt this off in… I can’t remember the last time. It’s not quite a catastrophe, but it’s close. When I fumble on one of the turns, Krisztina pulls away and glares at me.
“I’m done.”
Well, shit. We've only practiced together once, and she already hates me. This doesn’t bode well for my future with GMBC. It’s not like she has a lot of pull, but getting a reputation as anything other than pleasant and easy to work with this early in my tenure is likely to be a kiss of death. I’m not in the mood to be back out on the job market or moving again anytime soon. Besides, I only got back in touch with Aidan beyond liking each other’s images onInstagram.
Aidan.He’s the reason my head keeps floating away. It keeps going back to our fake date together. Except, the time in the diner wasn’t fake. It wasn’t us trying to convince my family that we’re together or put on a show. That time was all us, the version of us I remember from years ago. Laughing ourway through a meal that realistically couldn’t be half as good as homemade lasagna, and yet every bite tasted perfect. It’s not because they have the best waffles—I’ve had better. It was all Aidan, the comfort and spark he brings into my life. When we left to go to our cars, we lingered for a few moments, standing close enough that I could’ve leaned in and kissed him.
A thought I shouldn’t be having.
