Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Bash
"She asked you to what?" Tyler's laughter explodes through my phone speaker as I rummage through my closet, trying to find a shirt that says 'I'm taking this seriously' but not 'I'm trying too hard.'
"Pretend to be her boyfriend for her family trip to Colorado.
" I pull out a navy button-down, consider it for a moment, then toss it on the bed alongside the growing pile of rejected options.
"Her ex is going to be there with his new fiancée apparently and she doesn't want to show up solo while he's parading around his engagement. "
"And you said yes?" He sounds like he's enjoying this far too much, his voice practically vibrating with gleeful disbelief. "I can't believe she actually asked you to do this, you know with her giving you the cold shoulder to end all cold shoulders bit."
"Neither can I." I grab a dark green Henley. Nope, too calculated. I put it back with a frustrated sigh. "But it is the perfect opportunity to fix things, to show her I'm not just some arrogant playboy who bails. Plus, Colorado? That's my territory."
"You mean the perfect opportunity to get in her pants again."
I roll my eyes. "It's not like that."
"Sure it's not." His voice drips with sarcasm. "The woman you can't stop thinking about just asked you to ‘play house’ with her in a romantic winter setting, sharing a room, and you're taking it because you want to 'fix things.' Very noble of you."
"I fucked up, Ty." I sit on the edge of my bed, running a hand through my hair, feeling the frustration of the past week weighing on me. "I shouldn't have left like that."
"No shit. But this is actually perfect. You get to be the hero who saves her from embarrassment, and she gets the Sebastian Montgomery boyfriend experience without the actual commitment. It's like a free trial."
I laugh despite myself. "You make me sound like a subscription service."
"Premium package, baby. All the perks, none of the recurring charges." I can practically hear his shit-eating grin through the phone.
"You're an idiot."
"An idiot who's right." His tone shifts, becoming more serious. "Look, for real, this is your chance. Don't overthink it. Just be yourself—your real self. Not the player bullshit you pull sometimes. Show her who you actually are."
I stand up, moving back to the closet, fingers brushing past hangers of clothes I suddenly hate. "Well, that's the plan."
"And hey, isn't your sister still in Colorado? Sarah and your niece."
"Addie." I smile at the thought of my sixteen-year-old niece with her razor-sharp wit and uncanny ability to see through people's facades. Smart as hell and twice as mischievous. "Yeah, they're about an hour from Aspen. I was thinking I might rent a car and drive up to see them while I'm back."
"Perfect! You can introduce Charlie to the family. Really sell the whole boyfriend bit."
I pause, a gray sweater in hand, suddenly picturing Charlie sitting at my sister's kitchen table, laughing with Addie, fitting into my world in a way that makes my chest tight. "I don't know if that's a good idea." I've never brought a girl home to meet my family.
"Why not? Sarah would love her."
"That's what I'm afraid of." I toss the sweater aside and grab a simple dark grey button-down. This will have to do. "Sarah's got this annoying habit of knowing exactly what I'm thinking before I do. She'll take one look at me with Charlie and know this whole thing is a sham."
"All the more reason to introduce them. Your sister's got good instincts."
I don't respond right away, focusing on buttoning my shirt, trying not to think about how Sarah would absolutely call me out for harboring feelings I'm not ready to admit even to myself, but Tyler's right—my sister would see right through this fake relationship charade in about five seconds flat.
The question is whether that's a good or bad thing.
"So what's the plan tonight?" He breaks the silence, mercifully changing the subject. "Dinner and...?"
"Just dinner. We need to get our story straight if we're going to convince everyone we're together. We need to figure out the details. How we met, how long we've been dating, all that stuff."
"You meet at a bar and sleep together the same night. That part's easy."
I chuckle, tucking in my shirt to my jeans. "I don't think her parents would appreciate that version."
"Fair point." He pauses. "You know what's weird? You kind of sound nervous."
"I'm not nervous." The denial comes too quickly.
"Bullshit. I've known you for a long-time bro. I've seen you drop into half-pipes that would make most men shit themselves, and you never even blinked. But this woman has you choosing outfits like you're going to prom."
"I'm not—" I glance at the pile of rejected shirts on my bed.
"Bash, I've been listening to you rifle through your closet for the past ten minutes. You're nervous."
"It's a professional business dinner." I quip.
"Keep telling yourself that," he laughs. "Face it, Montgomery. You're into her. Like, really into her."
I check my watch. 6:31. I need to get going. "I have to finish getting ready."
"Avoiding the question. Classic."
"There wasn't a question." I grab my wallet and keys. "Just an incorrect observation."
"Whatever you say, man." His voice softens. "Just don't screw this up, okay? I haven't seen you this worked up over a woman in—actually, I've never seen you this worked up over a woman."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"I'm serious. You like her. Maybe it started as just attraction, but there's something more there. Don't sabotage it by being an idiot again."
I sigh, leaning against my dresser. "I know."
"So what's your strategy tonight?"
"Be honest. Well, mostly honest." I run a hand through my hair one last time. "Listen to her. Let her set the boundaries. Be the kind of boyfriend she'd want to show off to everyone."
"Solid plan. And if she happens to fall for the real Bash in the process..."
"One step at a time, Ty."
"Fair enough." I can hear the smile in his voice. "Call me tomorrow. I want all the details. This is better than Love Island."
"You watch too much trash TV."
"And you don't watch enough. You could learn something."
"Yeah, like how not to behave in relationships."
He laughs. "Go get her, Montgomery. And remember—"
"I know, I know. Don't be an idiot."
"I was going to say 'be yourself,' but that works too."
I hang up, slipping the phone into my pocket and taking a deep breath. Tyler's right. I am nervous. I don't get nervous about women. Ever. But something about Charlie throws me off balance in the scariest way.
The reflection staring back at me from the mirror looks put together, confident. No one would guess that my stomach is doing corkscrews at the thought of seeing her across a dinner table, just the two of us, no work, no friends, no distractions.
I grab my coat and head for the door. Whatever happens tonight sets the tone for this whole fake relationship thing. And as much as I'm trying to play it cool, I know one thing for certain: I want it to be as real as possible.
Pulling my phone out one more time, I send her a quick text letting her know I'm on my way. I hesitate, then add:
Looking forward to planning our epic romance
I hit send before I can overthink it, then head out to my Explorer. As I slide behind the wheel, my phone buzzes with her reply:
Just to be clear, this is strictly business.
Shortcake
I smile, starting the engine. Another text comes through:
And don't be late.
Shortcake
This woman is something else. Bossy, defensive, sharp as a tack—and I can't wait to spend the next however long trying to get past those walls she's built so carefully around herself.
"Game on, Shortcake," I murmur, pulling out into the street. "Game. On."
My usual confidence returns as I drive, formulating a plan. I know exactly how to play this. Be attentive but not overbearing, charming but not flirtatious, honest about wanting to make amends but not pushing for anything more than she's willing to give.
For the first time in my life, I'm not interested in the quick win. Charlie is worth the long game.
By the time I pull up to the restaurant, I've got my nerves under control. This isn't a date—it's a strategy session. But if I play my cards right, maybe it could be the beginning of something real.
As I hand my keys to the valet, I spot her walking toward the entrance, and my carefully constructed composure threatens to crumble.
She's wearing a simple black dress that hugs her curves in all the right places, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders.
She hasn't seen me yet, and for a moment, I just watch her—the determined set of her shoulders, the slight furrow in her brow as she checks her phone.
This woman asked me to pretend to be in love with her.
To help convince everyone that we're madly, deeply entangled in something real.
That I'm the guy who makes her laugh, who holds her hand across restaurant tables, who whispers things in her ear that make her cheeks flush that perfect shade of pink I've already become addicted to seeing.
Little does she know, I might not have to pretend very hard at all.
There's something about her that's gotten under my skin since we first met.
Something beyond those killer curves of hers and those gorgeous hazel eyes.
It's the way she challenges me, the glimpses of vulnerability beneath her armor, the quiet determination in everything she does.
The irony isn't lost on me that I've spent years keeping women at arm's length, and now I'm walking straight into a charade that feels dangerously close to the truth.
I straighten my shoulders and head toward the entrance. Time to be the best fake boyfriend she's ever had.