Chapter 4
four
Reese
A laugh bursts from my lips, and Cole smiles like the reaction pleases him.
He’s joking. He has to be.
He folds his arms across his chest. “So, when is this cabin thing happening?”
“This weekend, but I don’t actually expect you to come. Like I said, it was dumb and impulsive.”
He nudges me with his elbow. “What kind of boyfriend doesn’t come to his girlfriend’s annual Christmas cabin getaway?”
I raise my brows. “That would be the fake kind.”
“Nah. They’re the most devoted boyfriends of all.”
I let out something between a laugh and a scoff. “You’re kidding, right? You’re not actually considering this.”
“Oh, I’m very much considering it. What can I say? I’m a sucker for begging.”
“I’m not begg—”
He presses a finger to my lips, smooshing them.
I take his hand and gently but firmly remove it. “We don’t even know each other. Spending three nights with some of my closest friends is just asking for them to find out it’s fake.”
“I think you’re underestimating my skill level, but I can’t vouch for yours.” He narrows his eyes as he considers me. “You’re right. You’d probably slip up.”
“Me?”
“What if we just went for one night?” He completely ignores my incredulous question. “Long enough to stick it to Blake—”
“Brady.”
“—but short enough that you don’t blow our cover. I can plead some work emergency if we need a reason.”
“Why are you still talking about this?” I’m so confused by what could possibly motivate this man to continue pursuing a certifiably insane idea.
“You know you want to.”
I scoff, but he’s not wrong. The more he presses the idea, the more appealing it becomes. There’s not really a way for me to bow out of the weekend with my pride intact at this point. There also isn’t a way for me to go alone and preserve my dignity.
Cole is my best option.
“The point,” I say, “is that it makes no sense why you would want to. That fact alone should make me worry about your sanity. I’m not trying to star in the next Hulu true crime documentary.”
He makes a face. “Hulu? Please, Reese. Netflix or nothing, I say.”
I stare at him through narrowed eyes. “Why are you offering this if it’s not part of a creepy, killer-y plan?”
He shrugs. “I owe you, right? You did the same for me.”
“For like 0.5 seconds. This is different. Compared to our little stunt on the porch, this is the big leagues.”
“Exactly. I like a challenge. And I love Christmas parties. There’ll be good food, right?”
“Really good,” I admit. “Hannah’s mom is an amazing baker.”
Cole shuts his eyes like he’s imagining the treats in store. “Plus, Bree’s been asking questions about you in my DMs like she’s not sure she believes our story. If you throw in an Instagram post of us at the party, I’ll consider myself more than repaid.”
I stare at Cole, saying nothing for a minute. Am I really considering this? Is this what Laney meant by having fun and making poor choices? I kind of feel like it’s exactly what she meant.
“What if we just went for the evening?” I suggest. “Drove back home late that night?”
That feels a lot less crazy.
Cole shakes his head in disappointment. “You’re sucking all the fun out of it.”
“You say fun, I say risk.”
“Same thing. But fine. Your party, your call. Just tell me where I need to be. I’m all yours.”
My heart stutters.
Are we really doing this?
And why in the world is the answer in my mind a resounding yes?
The next day at work, sanity catches up with me and tackles me mercilessly to the sanitized floor of the offices of Matt Harmon, D.D.S. Something about the familiar monotony of cleaning teeth highlights the lunacy of what Cole and I agreed to.
Does it still sound just a tiny little bit fun?
Sure, in the same way that sledding down the icy interstate on a baking sheet sounds fun.
When I get home, I lay on the floor of my bedroom, staring at my ceiling, trying to decide what to do. Do I go alone and suck it up? Four days with Brady and Megan isn’t that long.
Oh, gosh, it totally is. Four days is an eternity. Celebrity marriages have lasted less time than that.
Do I go with my plan of falling down the mountain, then? Sure, they’ll know I was too big of a pansy to show up alone, but isn’t that preferable to, you know, actually showing up?
I grab my phone and pull up my text thread with Cole.
Reese
I know I’m giving you whiplash, but I don’t think we should go through with things tomorrow after all
Cole
Are you breaking up with me again? And over text? That’s cold, Reese.
PS I politely decline your breakup request. What time should I pick you up?
I let my phone drop to my side and shut my eyes. Why can’t he just go along with things like a normal human? He makes the plan sound so easy. So fun.
And part of me thinks it would be. I’ve spent less than an hour with Cole, but if I had to label that time with one word, fun would be it. Laney would absolutely approve. She’d be waggling her penciled eyebrows at me right now.
I let out a sigh and turn on my side, resting my weight on my elbow as I mindlessly scroll social media to delay responding to Cole. My feed is one long string of company Christmas parties, tree cutting expeditions, tropical vacations, and—
My thumb stops my scroll, and I swipe back up.
My heart slips at the sight of Brady and Megan, their smiling cheeks pressed together as they hold containers of steaming cocoa.
It’s Brady’s post.
Not once in our time dating did he post any of the pictures we took. He and Megan have been dating even less time than we did, but apparently, they’re Instagram official now.
I glance at the caption. It’s mostly emojis: a heart, then @, then the number 1, then two eyes.
It’s the most childish caption, but it makes me swallow. Love at first sight.
I know exactly when first sight happened for Brady and Megan—at Hannah and Tyler’s wedding. It’s the same night first sight happened for Brady and me. Megan was at the reception with a date, but I was there alone.
My stomach swims, and my cheeks burn.
Having Brady break up with me seemingly out of nowhere made the ground beneath my feet feel shaky and unsure for weeks. Wondering if I was his second choice the whole time?
The roiling waves of nausea in my stomach give way to a tsunami of anger, drowning the hurt with sheer force.
I swipe out of Instagram and pull up my thread with Cole.
Reese
2 o’clock. Bring your swimsuit.
His only response is a sly-faced emoji.
Couldn’t have said it better myself.
Cole’s car pulls up to the house the next day at three minutes after two.
I almost suggested we spend some time together yesterday to get to know each other, but since I told Hannah things with him were new—bless my wise heart—I think we can cover the basics in the hour-long car ride to Snoqualmie.
I grab a bag of the goodies I promised Hannah I’d bring to the cabin, then lock the door behind me. When I turn around, Cole is jogging up.
His green and white patterned wool sweater is perfect for the party, but it’s at odds with the clear, sunny skies the day has unexpectedly graced the Seattle area with.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
He reaches for the bag. “Picking up my date.”
“We’re not on stage yet, Romeo.” I let him take the bag anyway.
He slings his arm around my shoulders and guides us toward the car. “I’m more of a method actor.”
“Huh,” I say. “I’d figured you as more of the shows-up-late-to-the-shoot-and-hasn’t-read-the-script kind of actor.”
“I’m also that type of actor.”
I reach for the handle, but he gently swats my hand away and opens the door for me while I give him a flat look.
He just smiles. “Start as you mean to go on, right?”
I bat my eyelashes and give a sugary sweet smile. “Thank you, honey.”
He tips his head from side to side. “A tad overdone, but we’ll work on it.”
I get into the passenger seat, and Cole takes the bag to the trunk, then gets situated in the driver seat.
Last night, I broke the news to the girls that Cole and I could only come for the evening.
All three of them went through each stage of grief on the text thread.
Megan, in particular, was determined to find a way for us to stay.
I get the sense she’s thrilled that I have someone so I don’t have to be pining over Brady or hating her—neither of which I’m doing, to be clear.
I plug the address into Google Maps and set my phone in the holder attached to the dashboard. “Okay, we have one hour and seven minutes to get our story straight and get to know each other.”
“Plenty of time,” he says. “I already know you pretty well.”
A laugh bursts from me. “Do you, now?”
“Yup.”
I turn toward him and clasp my hands in my lap. “By all means, then…tell me all about me, Cole.”
He glances at me with a lopsided smile. He’s a total charmer—a detail I’ve already made note of but underline twice in my head. It makes him perfect for the role he’s playing tonight, but it’s probably a good thing it’s just for tonight.
“You’re a nurse,” he says.
“Dental hygienist.”
He shrugs. “A nurse for teeth.”
“Sure, Cole. I’m a tooth nurse. What else?”
“You live in a three-bed, two-bath house on Fircrest Drive.”
“Okay, now you’re just cheating.”
“Your sink leaks—or leaked, I should say, until your super sexy boyfriend fixed it for you—and your bedroom doesn’t heat as well as the rest of the house.”
There’s no preventing the laugh that comes out of my mouth. “You’re basically an expert on me. And yes, the bedroom is freezing. I feel like that should’ve been included in the seller disclosures.”
“Are you gonna sue me? Your own boyfriend?”
“That depends what type of boyfriend you are tonight.”
He flashes me a big grin. “I’m about to knock your socks off, Reese’s Pieces.”
“That’d be pretty impressive.” I lift my leg to show the socks that peek above the top of my boots. “These socks are wool, and they’re very tight.”
“They’re coming off! Your turn now. What do you know about me?”
I think for a second. What do I know about Cole Bradley?