Chapter 14
JULES
My knee is bouncing as Easton and Alba appear on Lincoln’s laptop screen. The two of them sit in bed with a large bowl of ice cream, gaping at Lincoln and me like they’re witnessing a UFO abduction in real time.
I had expected that the hardest part of this marriage arrangement with Lincoln would be telling my mom and my great-grandmother. But this video call is hard for a whole different reason.
Alba is my best friend in the whole wide world.
We’ve been through everything together. It started all the way back in elementary school when she elbowed Joey Quinn in the ribs for breaking my necklace at recess.
I had her back in the early days, when she struggled to raise Jagger on her own.
She’s been there through all my family drama.
Even now, she’s there on that laptop screen, wearing one of my most recent T-shirt designs.
She has always been my biggest supporter.
Which is why it’s so hard to lie to her now.
I’m sort of glad that we’re having this conversation over video call.
It’s private enough that we’re not at a bar struggling to talk over the loud music and the rowdy drunks.
But also, having this talk through a computer screen allows me some chance of being able to mask my inner freak-out from the person who knows me better than anyone.
Alba’s eyes are as big as saucers as she stares at Lincoln and me, sitting side by side in two stiff chairs in his home office. “Wow. You guys are together…?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, we are.”
She frowns at me. “Oh my gosh, Jules. I can’t believe you kept this from me.”
The knots in the pit of my stomach twist and bury themselves deeper.
“I’m an awful, no good, very bad friend. Sorry.” I cringe.
“Actually, we’re a little more serious than that,” Lincoln chimes in, awkwardly stretching an arm around my shoulders.
Easton slides the ice cream bowl onto the nightstand and leans closer to the screen before he asks, “Serious how?”
I’m so scared I’m going to screw this up, so I just blurt everything out and get it over with. “That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about tonight.” My eyes fix on Alba. “Will you be my maid of honor…in a few weeks?”
“What the what?” Easton practically yells, tearing the Saints beanie off his head and flinging it to the floor.
Alba is stunned silent. Her eyes bounce back and forth between Lincoln and me.
“Yeah, and I’m gonna need you to be my best man.” Lincoln addresses his brother before Alba can even respond to my question.
“The best man? For a wedding? A wedding for you two? Like, you and Jules are engaged? To be married? Y’mean, I do and until death and all that? I’m not being Punk’d, right?” Easton is spewing out so many questions that it’s hard not to laugh.
He’s right, though. This is absurd.
Alba trades a skeptical look with her man.
Then she leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice like she’s trying to tell me a secret.
“Are you pregnant, hun? Because you know marriage isn’t always the answer.
You know I’d be there for you, one hundred percent.
” She looks at Lincoln and cringes. “No offense, though.”
My groom-to-be casually takes a gulp of his ginger ale. “None taken. But she’s not pregnant. At least, not that we know of,” he adds, turning to me with a wink. Even though I know he’s putting on a show, it makes my stomach do a fluttery somersault.
Lincoln and I have only had one (unfinished) night together. One. But somehow it’s always right there in the front of my mind, mocking me. Teasing me. Begging to make a repeat visit.
I know that our marriage contract rules out physical affection behind closed doors, but more and more, I just want to drag Lincoln to my bedroom and finish what we started the night of the housewarming party.
Scooting my office chair closer to his, I stare lovingly at my fiancé as I speak. “In all seriousness though, this is the real deal. I know it seems sudden, but we’re all getting older, and when you know, you know. A long engagement just doesn’t make sense to us.”
Lincoln gently strokes my upper arm. I try not to jump when he touches me, but every time he does, it’s like being electrocuted. Instead of getting up and running for the hills, I nuzzle my head against Lincoln’s shoulder and smile real wide.
Alba gives her head a brisk shake. “Wow. Okay. Congrats, you two. I’m sorry I didn’t start with that.”
“Yeah, brother. You definitely caught us off guard here. But I’m honored to be considered for the best man duties. If you’re sure about everything?”
“Absolutely.” Lincoln nods.
“You know I’m there for whatever you need,” Alba says to me. “Maid of honor duties. A crying shoulder. Burying a body.” She sends Lincoln a dirty look.
“Duly noted,” he mutters, squirming a little in his seat.
“So, tell us, how did this all happen?” Easton asks, pointing his finger between us.
“Yeah, especially since you two seemed to hate each other not so long ago.” Alba pulls a pillow into her lap and gets comfortable, like she’s waiting for story time.
“It was the hate sex,” Lincoln quips, grinning from ear to ear.
I elbow him hard in the ribs. “It was not. We just…realized we had a lot more in common than we thought.”
“Didn’t you, like, hate Jules’s T-shirt ideas?” Easton asks. “I remember you gawking at the phrases she’d put on them. It was like you were personally offended.”
Well, this is news to me. I don’t like it.
I turn my head and stab Lincoln with eye-daggers.
“Wh-what? No,” my fake fiancé stutters. “I think Jules’s T-shirts are great. Snarky. Funny.”
One of Alba’s eyebrows lifts. “Oh yeah? Which design is your favorite?”
Oh boy, she’s testing him. This isn't good.
Lincoln starts snapping his fingers, glancing at me. “That one…that blue one…that one you wore yesterday. It says something about…”
Alba waits, letting Lincoln doggie-paddle before he drowns.
“The one that says…um, I think it says…Or could it be the one that says…um, you know…?” Lincoln does one last finger snap before glancing at my boobs. “This one she’s wearing now. A little morning wood makes the morning good.”
“It certainly does…” Alba throws Easton a discreet wink and he smirks in response.
“Yes! This one’s my favorite,” Lincoln says, looking proud of himself. “I love that Jules just says whatever’s on her mind. It’s refreshing.”
The happy couple trade another look. It’s the ninety-seventh ‘look’ they’ve shared during this call.
I can’t wait for this nightmare to be over.
From that point onward, Lincoln and I carefully skirt the difficult questions about our relationship.
Yet still, I feel like we’re not doing the best job of convincing Easton and Alba, so I keep trying to do little things that prove that we’re madly in love.
I scoot my chair a little closer to Lincoln’s.
I grin up at him every chance I get, well, at least until he points out that I have food in my teeth.
Then when I try to kiss him on the cheek, he doesn’t realize it until too late and ends up bumping my nose. Hard. My eyes start watering, but I blame it on being emotional about our engagement.
Lincoln also seems to be trying to demonstrate his love for me. I’m so not paying attention when he tries to move a lock of my hair behind my ear. All I see is a finger coming at my face, so I flinch and smack his hand out of the air.
We’re painfully awkward all evening, but we do our best to cover it up with forced laughter and lots of hand holding. That we’ve figured out. But the sweet words and pet names? Not so much.
Alba and Easton continue to try and act supportive. But I know my best friend. I can tell she’s not buying it. I’m sure they have so many questions, but miraculously they don’t call us out on our shit. Not tonight, at least.
All that keeps replaying in my head is, I’m betraying my best friend, I’m betraying my best friend. I’ll owe her big time when all of this is over.
Eventually, we’re saved when their doorbell rings, and the happy couple mentions something about a pizza delivery. Lincoln and I quickly wrap up the phone call, relieved to be off the hook. For now.
Once the screen goes black, Lincoln lets out a breath that sounds tired and anxious. “Fuck. That was a disaster.”
I collapse back in my seat and stare at him. “How do we fix this? We need to get our act together before I introduce you to my great-grandmother. Because if we mess that up, it’s all over.”
Lincoln starts nodding. An idea seems to be forming. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. I’ve got it,” he says, his typical business tone taking over. “We need to go on a date.”
“A date…?” I echo, unable to hide the hint of revulsion in my voice.
“Dinner and a movie. Tomorrow night,” he announces.
I bolt up out of my seat. “What? Why?!” I’m annoyed at the idea of spending one more minute with this man than I have to.
He scrubs a palm across his forehead in frustration. “Because we don’t like each other, Jules. Hell, we don’t even know each other. And people are picking up on that. Unless we start building some kind of genuine…connection, this whole thing is going to fall apart.”
He’s right. I hate it, but he’s right.
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says, all bossy. “Bring something to take notes.”
I hear myself snorting. “Okay, wow. Way to sweep a girl off her feet, Romance Daddy. I’ll be sure to bring my sexiest notebook.”
He shakes his head. “Oh, you’ll be swept off your feet when you cash in that trust fund, Troublemaker. Just be ready. Seven o’clock.”
I glare at him as I turn and start walking toward the door. “Fine.”
Just as I’m about to stomp out of his office, he speaks again. “And Jules?”
“Yes?” I all but spit out, watching him over my shoulder from the threshold.
Mischief glints across his blue eyes. “Wear something sexy.”
A gagging sound flies out of my mouth. I can’t help it.
Something must be wrong with the man, because my reaction makes him smile.