Four Day Fling

“He’d met your mom, right?”

“And she loves him,” I muttered, dropping onto her bed. “This whole weekend is a hot mess, Aves. My family is obsessed with him—now personally, too—and soon, I’m going to have to break up with my fake boyfriend who happens to be the only boyfriend my family has ever liked.”

“Well, you do run that risk,” she said unhelpfully. “Without being that person, I told you this was a bad idea.”

“I know. It was a bad idea. It is a bad idea.” I fell backward and covered my eyes as I bounced on the mattress.

The bed dipped as she lay down next to me. “He seems nice, though. Very convincing.”

I groaned rolling over onto my front and almost lying on top of her. “He is. He’s lovely and perfect.”

“Uh-oh,” Avery said, shifting to sit up. She leaned against the headboard and tossed her shoes on the floor. “Lovely and perfect?”

Another groan and I buried my face into the covers. “Yes. And I hate that I like him.”

“Like him, or like him?”

“I don’t know, Aves.” I turned my head to the side and rested my cheek on my arms. “I don’t want to answer the question. Sure, he’s hot as hell and he’s a freaking magician in the bedroom, but we just…get along. It’s so easy, you know? It’s like we’ve known each other for years instead of hours.”

“That’s…I want to say it’s cute, but I don’t think you’ll agree.”

“No. Then last night Ro told me we were doing a really good job of pretending to be into each other, and—”

Avery barked a laugh. “Pretending my ass! That kiss after breakfast near damn turned me on!”

I cough-laughed. “Exactly. I told him it was bugging me and he told me he was into me. Ugh, Aves.”

“So why are you freaking out?”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“You’re totally freaking out.”

I shook my head. “Tomorrow this will all be over, so it doesn’t matter, because—”

“Why does it have to be over?” She crossed her legs and hugged a pillow. “You’re into each other. You both live in Orlando. Why not be honest and see if anything happens?”

“Because we’re different people and our lives aren’t compatible.”

“You’re like that heroine in romance novels who makes people want to throw their Kindles. You know, the ones where you sit and scream and go, ‘HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT? YOU HAVEN’T TRIED!’”

I blinked at her. “In the middle of a book, huh?”

She blew out a long breath. “Angst central. Okay, but still, how do you know your lives aren’t compatible?”

“Because he’s famous and talented and rich and—”

“You’re talented.”

“It doesn’t count. I paint for fun.” I shifted to sit up and glanced away. “You’re the only person who knows I still do that.”

“So that makes it any less important? Pops, you’re working as a waitress with a roommate in a slightly overpriced apartment. That’s how most rich people start out.”

I laughed. “In Hollywood and only if you’re willing to sell your soul to the devil.”

“Then you’re fine, because you were birthed by the devil.” She grinned. “I think you should try.”

“Hmph. We’ll see. For now, let’s get through today. I’m ready for this wedding to be over and see my sister get married.”

“All right, all right.”

***

“Avery, did I tell you about that time in Amsterdam?” Grandpa said, leaning across the table with his eyes wide.

Avery hesitated. “Which time was that?”

Ding ding, wrong answer.

“The one with the British prostitute with tits like Jupiter.”

“I’ll get more place cards!” I scrambled up and ran to the other side of the room. While Avery may not have heard it, I’d heard it the night before, and I really didn’t want to hear about it again.

He’d picked his topic of conversation for this family gathering, and when my mom found out, she was going to have steam come out of her ears.

Arms slid around my back and lips kissed the side of my jaw. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I said to Adam. “You can let go. Grandpa’s too busy telling Avery about Jupiter to pay attention.”

“Not her again.”

“Yep.”

“Your dad’s probably coming, so I’ll keep hold of you for now,” he muttered. “We got interrogated in the gym by your mom.”

I picked up a stack of name cards for the tables and spun in his arms, tilting back to meet his eyes. “I bet that was fun.”

“Apparently Mark has to make sure all the suits for the groomsmen are correct and your dad needs to be here helping, and hell, since I was there too, I have to help.”

“Ha!” I tapped his nose and passed him the cards. “They have to go in these little stands.” Extracting myself from his arms, I picked up the box that had the cute little stands in.

“This is what she’s got us doing?”

I nodded. “We’ve only done sixty. Not all the cards are cut to perfection, so we have to trim some. Grandpa is supposed to be helping, but…” I cut a look his way.

“He’s drinking a Bloody Mary and telling stories about Amsterdam.”

“Mhmm. We’re hoping he’ll fall asleep soon. We asked them to put an extra shot in this drink.”

“I thought you were keeping him off alcohol.”

“We were. Then we got tasked with this bullshit, so.” I lifted the box with a grimace and headed back for the table.

“And let me tell you.” Grandpa clutched his drink, slightly glassy-eyed. “She could ride a bull like a cowboy, if you know what I mean.”

Avery nodded solemnly. “I do. I bet she was expensive.”

“Worth every damn cent!” he cackled. “Adam, you ever been to Amsterdam?”

“Yes, sir,” Adam said, putting the cards down. “I went when I was sixteen.”

Grandpa leaned forward. “I’ll take you one day! We’ll have the best time!”

I sat on the table with a sigh, using a chair a footrest. Adam picked my shoeless foot up and sat down, resting it on his thigh instead with a wink at me.

I rolled my eyes.

I needed more Tylenol.

“Grandpa, you’d never make the journey,” I reminded him. “Your doctor said no flights longer than three hours.”

“He also said no Bloody Marys,” he cackled again. “And look what I have!”

“Don’t shout so loud. As far as Mom knows, it’s tomato juice to curb your addiction.” I slid a card into the holder and set it to the side with the completed ones.

He went to say something, but he was interrupted by the slamming of the door.

We all jerked around.

Rosie was flat against the door, wearing yoga pants and a tank that had a slice of pizza on it and the words “Love Triangle.”

“I’m gonna steal that shirt,” I said, inserting another card. “Yours is backward,” “I said to Adam. The little bird goes at the front.”

He sighed. “My fingers are too big for this.”

Avery snorted. “Only time a man will ever complain about being too big for something.”

Grandpa did his signature cackle and hiccupped.

“I’m glad you’re all having such fun,” Rosie said tensely.

“Not really. I’m bored out my fucking min.” I looked back up at her. “Why do you look like the police are after you?”

“They are!” she whispered. “The wedding police! Mom and the planner are on my back! I wanted to go to the gym because, hello, I get married today and I’m freaking out and panicking and I’m scared and I just want to let off steam, she’s on my back about cupcakes and flowers and when do the bouquets arrive and am I sure about that table and is Grandpa seated too close to the bar?”

“I’ll sit at it, petal, no problem.” More cackling. “Drink?”

Rosie looked at the Bloody Mary and took it. She sipped, then winced, making face. “Jesus! How much is in that?”

“Sending him to sleep,” Avery answered. “Then he can’t get into trouble.”

“Surprisingly, that makes sense,” Rosie replied.

“Carry on about the wedding police.” I grabbed my water bottle and uncapped it. “Are you hiding?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “And you’re not stealing my shirt.”