Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
I sigh. "He basically wanted me to acknowledge I was going alone to his wretched wedding."
Rachel makes a noise that could charitably be called a sound of disgust. She was never a fan of Derek. Her and River. They hated him because Derek liked the sound of his own voice. He never noticed when everyone else was uncomfortably quiet and it was just him monopolizing the talk.
"And he said, 'you're bringing someone?' I snapped after that."
Rachel's eyes widen, and she rests a hand over mine. "What happened?"
"I told him I was bringing someone. My husband."
If I told them I met Poseidon and he was about to whisk me away to his kingdom in the middle of the ocean, I wouldn't have gotten a better reaction. River whirls so fast I almost lean back, his hand clutching a stirring spoon so hard, his knuckles are white. His forehead furrows, a strand of his hair slides loose just above his eyebrow.
A flick of hot liquid arcs from the spoon and plops onto the kitchen island right in front of me.
His gray eyes scan my face as if he can't believe what I just said.
God, Rachel's twin is really hot. I noticed it the first time I saw him in freshman year, and I'm still noticing it today.
Clearly, as I raise my eyes from the dollop of River's cooking, and lock onto his.
But no. He's off-limits.
Rachel grabs my arm, her eyes almost popping out of their sockets. "You said what?!"
"That I'm bringing my husband to the wedding."
She shakes her head slowly, exchanging a look with River. They always do this unspoken telepathic twin thing, and it's always jarring to witness. "You told Derek you have a husband."
"I told Derek I have a husband. Priyanka and Alec heard it, too. It seemed the right thing to say in the moment. It ... just came out. Now, I'm not so sure."
"Hmm. Let me think." Rachel does that thing whenever she's deep in her own thoughts. Her gaze is somewhere between me and space, then her face shifts. Her eyebrows rise to her hairline, and her face spits into a devious smile. I know this expression. It usually means something chaotic is incoming, and I'm going to agree to it because Rachel's chaotic ideas have a 60% success rate, which is genuinely better than my own careful ones. "You could just get someone to fake it. One weekend. You show up with a husband, Derek sees you, you leave. Simple."
The list of rational objections arrives immediately: who, exactly, how, what happens when it unravels at work, what happens when someone from the office asks a follow-up question on Monday and I have to produce an explanation for why my husband of mysterious duration has suddenly vanished from my life. Is he CIA? Is he suddenly in witness protection?
Rachel lets it sit, long enough for me to remember all the times Derek made me feel small and insecure, when he jabbed at my fashion (So what if I wear ratty tees at home instead of Lululemon?), when he kept making snide remarks at how unpolished I often am (Yes, I eat pizza with my hands, sue me!).
I don't hate Derek anymore, nor am I angry he cheated on me, but those moments with him still sting. Rachel called him a walking red flag, but for six whole months, I was just so damn colorblind.
"You could bring my brother."
My gaze whips to Rachel, who nudges her chin to River, as if I don't know who her brother is. My brain doesn't work at full capacity yet because my initial thought is, why should I bring River. Then, the realization dawns, and I scrunch my face.
The automatic absolutely not arrives first, before I've thought about why. But it doesn't take long for images to shuffle in my mind's eye—me arriving with River, who's a thousand times hotter than Derek, Derek getting bothered that not only do I actually have a plus one, but we have matching rings, and it's to a man he already met.
Because, yes, he met River, and both men didn't like each other on sight. In fact, I have never seen River glare at someone the way he did Derek. I was so surprised Derek didn't spontaneously combust.
Rachel's plan is ridiculous, but my lie is even more so. I would lose face if everyone proved my lie. Called me on it.
Then again, if I were ever in a fake relationship, River would be my perfect choice.
Why?
One, I've known him for as long as I've known Rachel.
Two, he's seen me at my worst—the super-thin, barely there brows after overplucking them, the horrific makeup when I still had blush blindness, the vomiting after a night out.
Three, he has always been there for me. When I had my period early, and Rachel was still in class, it was him who bought me tampons and let me borrow his jersey jacket to wrap around my skirt. When I went to the said estate sale and found a beautiful treasure chest, it was him who carried it to my first apartment. Did I mention four flights of stairs ... oh, yes, I did. When my car broke down in the middle of the night in winter, it was him who saved me from hypothermia.