“I wouldn’t have told you about it if I thought you were going to be so bossy.”
“Yeah,” Wes said, leaning against the counter, “let’s talk about ‘it’.”
“You told me we didn’t have to,” Ramsey complained.
“That was before you started to refer to your feelings—or your whole deal with Nate—as anit.”
Ramsey rolled his eyes. “I don’tknowwhat it is yet. We talked. We came to a . . .”An agreement to fake like each other. “We agreed that maybe what we’d been doing up to now wasn’t working.”
“It’s not a business negotiation,” Wes said incredulously.
“Of course not.”
“Then why does it sound like it is?”
Probably because Ramsey didn’t know how to even describe something that was more than flirting with the express intention of sleeping together shortly after, or him trying to get something he wanted.
“I don’t know,” Ramsey said, drumming his fingertips on the counter, trying not to sound testy.
Ramsey was good at lots of things. Lots and lots of things. Hockey, obviously, and arranging things to everyone’s benefit. Being a friend to Wes and Brody. Maintaining a killer poker face. Putting people at ease. Looking fucking amazing. Just glancing at a situation and knowing how to improve it without anyone being the wiser. Making money.
He was good at so many things it had never occurred to him that he might not be good at this, too. The only reason he hadn’t been sure was because he just hadn’t done it before.
“Yeah, you do. You never do this. You’re not going to be good at it.”
Ramsey sighed with exaggeration. “There’s lots of times I haven’t tried something and I turn out to be fucking amazing at it.”
Wes rounded the counter and smacked him on the side of the head. Hard enough it stung a little. “Come on,” he said. “I know you’re like ridiculously smart, but don’t be an egotistical jackass about it.”
“Okay.” This was why Wes was valuable. Well,this, and many other things.
Not for the first time, Ramsey missed Brody, who was across the country and not as readily available to puncture his ego.
He was always gentler about it than Wes was.
“So what else happened?” Wes asked. “Did you kiss him?”
Ramsey hesitated. Hehad, but not last night.
“No,” Ramsey said.
Wes looked surprised. “You didn’t?”
“Well, I wasn’t sleeping with him last night.” That made perfect, logical sense.
But Wes smacked him again. “Are you joking? Actually, don’t answer that.”
“What? Why?” Ramsey didn’t like thinking he’d screwed up. Even in the imaginary roleplay that he and Nate hadn’t actually engaged in. The fake memory where they’d talked and flirted and admitted, maybe not with words, that they actually liked each other. That they liked each other,for real.
“Kissing isn’tonlysomething you do before you have sex with someone,” Wes said with an exaggerated patience.
“Okay, that’s . . .uh . . .good to know.” Ramsey hated feeling like he wasn’t doing things right. That he’d broken some kind of unspoken rule.
“Text him,” Wes ordered again. “Text him and tell him you want to see him tonight.”
For a split second, Ramsey wanted to argue. Wanted to tell his friend that he wasn’t going to take orders about this, but then why wouldn’t he? Whether it was fake or it was real, he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe Wes’ happily-ever-after had splintered apart, but he’d still had it for years. He still knew way more than Ramsey did.
So instead of arguing, Ramsey pulled his phone out. There was already a text from Brody there. How on earth had Wes managed to text Brody without Ramsey noticing? But he clearly had, because Brody had sent him a whole string of question marks, followed up by awhat the fuck, dude? you go and fall in love and don’t even TELL ME.
