8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Blaze
Why did I agree to do this?
I stare at Addy. She’s sitting across from me at the small, wrought iron table. We’re at our favorite breakfast spot—a charming little cafe with a patio that overlooks the bustling city streets below—but this is not our typical breakfast.
“Okay, well,” Addy begins, pulling a notebook out of her purse, “I think we already have a pretty good handle on what’s going to be acceptable and what’s not.”
“Yeah, but I think it’s important that we explicitly define our boundaries. I don’t want anything to ruin—”
“Our friendship,” she cuts me off. “I get it. You’ve made that super clear. Nothing is going to ruin it. I’d never let that happen.”
I grunt, folding my arms across my chest. “You say that now, but if something goes haywire with this fake relationship, well … I’ve seen the movies—and the celebrities who fake a relationship as some kind of PR stunt. It rarely works out the way they want it to.”
I take in the steaming cups of freshly brewed coffee and warm banana walnut muffins between us, a momentary distraction from the nerves coiling in my stomach.
“That’s because you only hear about the ones that don’t,” Addy reasons. “I’m sure plenty of fake relationships have turned out just fine.” She shrugs like this isn’t a big deal to her before picking up her latte and taking a sip. “Okay, so rule number one…” She laughs, meeting my gaze. “No kissing.”
“No kissing, how?” I ask, my heart thumping strangely in my chest. “Because it’s gonna seem kinda weird to your family if I don’t at least greet you with a kiss on the cheek, don’t you think?”
Addy frowns, clicking her purple pen in her hand. “I guess I didn’t really think about that. Okay. No kissing on the mouth.”
I blow out a sharp breath, my mind going rampant with the ways that rule could be bent. I’ll have to be careful… Or better yet… “How about we just agree to cheek and forehead kisses only?”
She makes a face. “Wait, where was your head at? The gutter?”
I chuckle. “I think it’s just better to spell out the rules in detail. The clearer they are, the easier they’ll be to follow.”
“Okay, what about holding hands?” Addy asks, doodling on the corner of the paper.
“I think holding hands is a great way to show affection without crossing any hard lines. I’ve held your hand plenty of times before.” I bring my coffee cup to my lips, my mouth feeling dry at the way Addy responds to my comment, tilting her head and looking at me with curiosity.
“What do you mean? I can’t remember a single time you’ve held my hand.”
“Um, if I need to get your attention, show you something, guide you when you’re blindfolded—like at your surprise twenty-fifth birthday party…” I start to feel heat creep up my neck at the memory of her fingers intertwined in mine, but thankfully, Addy returns her gaze to the paper and writes something down.
“Okay, so unlimited hand holding. I’d say hugs, arms around each other, and anything else like that is fair game too.” She continues to write.
“As long as it’s middle-school-dance-level appropriate,” I clarify.
“I’m not gonna touch your butt, Blaze.” Addy bursts into laughter, shaking her head. “You seem so worried about this—like I’m going to push the boundaries or something.”
I shrug, keeping my own fears and insecurities under lock and key. Addy has no idea how crazy I was about her in college, too terrified to make a move because of how broke I was at the time. I knew her wealthy family would never approve of me. But I don’t look at her romantically anymore. I buried those feelings so deep down that I often forget they exist.
Regardless, she’s obviously still very attractive…
And the thought of my hands on her makes me sweat.
“Okay, so I feel like our physical boundaries are figured out.” Addy sighs in relief. “Is there anything else we should discuss?”
“Pet names? Sleeping arrangements? And what’s our story for why we suddenly became more than friends?”
“You can call me whatever you want. And you’ll have your own room. As for the story…” She bites down on her lower lip, looking up at me. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
“Well, um,” I hesitate, trying to come up with something remotely believable. “Maybe I took you home from a party, you were a little tipsy, and you kissed me. And it was at that moment, we both realized we were more than friends.”
She does not look happy with my answer. “That makes me sound desperate.”
I raise my brows. “Coming from the person who needs a fake boyfriend.”
“Seriously?” She glares at me, slamming her notebook shut. “I just want to have a good time in Hawaii without having to worry about what my family thinks about me being forever alone. C’mon Blaze. You’re my best friend. I know we’ll have a good time—we always do. We just need to come up with a more believable story.”
I purse my lips, using my coffee as a diversion from the nerves I’m feeling about going to Hawaii as her boyfriend .
Well, fake boyfriend.
“What if we went for a walk?” Addy offers. “And you told me you loved me, but you realized it was more than just friend love. That would be so romantic.”
“And unrealistic,” I snort, finally setting the cup down. “Like why would I just suddenly think of you as more than a friend? That’s all we’ve been for a decade, Addy. I’m pretty sure I know how I feel about you.” Something flashes in her eyes that’s got me feeling the need to backtrack. “But I guess maybe it could happen.”
Addy’s gaze drops to the table. “Alright. Well, since we can’t seem to agree, we can just wing it, then. One of us will answer it when the time comes—if anyone even asks. I don’t think they will. They’re probably not going to take me seriously, regardless of what I do.”
“You’re being a Debbie Downer,” I grunt.
“Yeah, and you’re just a bucket of sunshine,” she shoots back at me, crinkling her nose up in that adorable way she does. “I’m trying to navigate how to survive this wedding, and you’re just worried about me touching your butt.”
I nearly spit out my coffee, choking back laughter. “I’m not worried about unsolicited butt touches.”
“Good. Now, how long have we been dating?” She folds her arms across her chest, and for a moment, I take her in. Her messy bun. Her T-shirt covered in dog hair from her early morning walks. And her natural, free-of-makeup face. Honestly, I don’t understand how she doesn’t have a boyfriend. I don’t know how anyone could see and meet Addy and not want to be with her.
I clear my throat. “Maybe a month? I don’t think it should be too long, because if so, you would’ve added me as a plus one when they first started asking a few months ago.”
“True,” she hums. “A month is fine. We’ve known each other so long, it would make sense for it to get serious fast.”
“I agree.” I shift in my chair. I don’t know why this conversation is so uncomfortable, but it is. “Anything else?”
She hesitates. “Be nice to me.”
Okay, that’s confusing. “I’m always nice to you.”
“No, I mean, be nice to me in the same way you were the day you dropped everything to bring me a change of clothes—that kind of nice. Most boyfriends don’t even do that.”
“They’re not very good boyfriends.”
“No, maybe not.” Her eyes drop. “You set the bar pretty high.”
“Not really,” I blurt, dang near squirming in the seat. We’ve never talked like this before, and it’s making my heart race and my palms sweat—in a weird, warm kind of way. “I haven’t even been able to keep a girlfriend.”
“You haven’t even had a girlfriend since we became friends,” Addy snorts, then frowns. “You rarely even go out with anyone. And when you do, you’ll take her on like three dates and then give up.”
“No,” I counter. “I don’t give up. I just… they’re never the right person for me.” I shrug, trying not to let on that being alone bothers me sometimes.
I don’t know why I can’t find someone.
Maybe Addy is setting the bar too high, too. I mean, she’s sweet, attentive, and has a way of making me feel like I’m a real-life superhero. No one else has ever done that—which is why I have to protect what we have at all costs. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep our friendship intact.
“Okay. Well, I think we’re done here,” Addy says. “This trip should be fun, though. I mean, we don’t have to spend the entire time with my family. So, I think we’ll get plenty of time for normalcy.”
“Right, totally,” I agree. Although my anxiety is telling me to run for the hills. “It’ll be fine.”
“It’ll be fun.” Addy grins, reaching across the table and squeezing my hand.
A burst of heat comes from the minor gesture, but I brush it off.
She’s done that before, right?
Surely, she has. So why is this suddenly such a big deal? Am I already getting in my head about it?
I pull my hand away and use it to pick up the muffin I haven’t touched, clearing my throat as I unwrap the paper from the bottom. “Are we going to have coordinating outfits?”
Addy eyes me and makes a face. “Um, do you want coordinating outfits?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I mean, I kinda like the idea. I can get one of those custom shirts with your face on it. Maybe I could wear it to the wedding. I bet everyone would love that.”
Her eyes grow wide. “You’re going to get me kicked out of my own family.”
“At least then you wouldn’t have to have a fake boyfriend just to get through your sister’s wedding.” I shoot her a wink. “Then we could just be normal friends again.”
“We are normal friends. And this ruse isn’t going to change anything between us. We’re just going to go to Hawaii, put on a show, and then stage a breakup. I’m sure my family will be relieved when we break up.”
I can’t hide my surprise but do my best to swallow the hurt. “Do you really think they’d be relieved that we broke up? I mean, I know I’m just a lowlife turned NHL player, but—”
“You’re not a lowlife,” Addy interjects. “You never were.”
“Okay. But do you really think they’d be happy about the breakup? I mean, at the end of the day, I think they want you to be happy—and surely they’d be happy if you were happy with me.”
“Yeah, but you know how they are.” Addy sighs, picking at her muffin wrapper. “They have this outdated idea of the type of person I should end up with, which always consists of old money, upper-crust circles, politics, and whatever else they have in their heads. They want me to end up with someone who … fits their mold. Someone who can put on a proper show in front of high society and carry on their legacy that has been meticulously crafted by generations before—”
“Okay.” I tense my jaw. “I get it.”
“Please don’t be offended,” Addy says quickly. “I’m not saying their perspective is right. It just is what it is. I mean, you’ve seen the guys they’ve tried to set me up with. They’ve mostly been trust fund babies. But luckily, you’re rich. That’s going to help a lot.”
“The shallowness of this conversation right now,” I say incredulously, shaking my head. “I swear, I could never be with someone who only looked at me for my wealth.”
“I know.” Her voice softens. “And I think it’s incredible how hard you worked to get to where you are. I’ve watched you go from playing hockey on a college scholarship that you worked your butt off to get to winning the Stanley Cup in the NHL. You’ve managed to overcome so many obstacles in your life, and you’ve never let anything stop you. You’re impressive.”
“Just not to your family.”
She frowns. “It’ll be fine.”
I nod, but inwardly, I’m a freaking wreck.
What the heck have I gotten myself into?