"Even Trevor's best man, Brad, is bringing a date. I'm glad to see him finally settling down. That boy used to get your brother into so much trouble in college."
I didn't want to burst her bubble by informing her Trevor had gotten into enough trouble all on his own. Kendra was good for him. But right then, I decided his fiancée was bad for me. I don't know why it took me so long to process what she'd said, but when I did, I almost laughed. I would hardly call a guy Brad had been seeing for a few months settling down.
My mom’s voice distracted me. “Anyway, about Edward—"
"I’m sure he’s a great guy, Mom. But I can't take you up on the offer. I wasn't ready to tell you yet, but I have a boyfriend." The lie was out of my mouth before I could reel it back in. Rook choked on a laugh, and I waved at him to shut his trap.
She quieted. "Why didn't you tell me?"
The note of hurt in her tone made me feel guilty, but there was no turning back now. I avoided glancing at Rook, knowing he was delighting in my discomfort. Jerk.
I cleared my throat. "It's new, and I wanted to give it some time first."
"Oh, honey," she breathed out in delight. "I'm so glad. What’s he like? Tell me everything!”
I could easily picture her with a huge smile tugging her cheeks.
Scrambling for details, I came up with the words I knew she wanted to hear. "He’s nice. Charming. It's how he won me over."
Rook snorted. When I glanced at him, he had his hand covering his mouth as he tried to control the laughter making his shoulders bounce. I flipped him off which only made the situation worse.
I could hear her excitement in her voice. "Are you bringing him to the wedding? Oh, you have to. I need to meet him."
"I’m not sure," I lied again, because it was apparently becoming a rapidly growing pathological condition. "He works a lot of hours, and I haven't asked him."
She paused. “He doesn’t exist, does he?”
“What? Of course, he exists. Why would I make that up?” I responded as if shocked she’d accuse me of something so dishonest.
Rook’s laugh was so loud, even his hand did nothing to mask it.
“Oh, was that Rook? Tell him I said hi!” My mom loved Rook as much as Mrs. Oliveira loved me. Maybe more.
“Yep. He actually needs my help with something, so I need to go. But talk soon? Love you. Bye.” I hung up, fully aware I’d catch shit for being rude the next time I spoke to her.
Rook tilted his head, slanting an amused grin. “Who’s this boyfriend I know nothing about?”
“Shut up.” I sulked while turning to stare at the TV. "So… That whole fake boyfriend thing… That still on the table?"
Rook burst out with raspy laughter, and my eyes snapped to his. He winked. "Anything for you, sugar lips."
I glared, recalling the nickname he’d used after kissing me. "That's still not going to happen."
He shrugged. "Sweet stuff? Pumpkin pie? Honey—"
"Are you hungry or something?" I frowned.
"No. I’m fucking starving. Speaking of"—he grabbed his phone off the table and glanced at the screen—“the food should be here soon.”
“Awesome. Maybe you’ll come up with something more original after you eat.” I stood and headed down the hall to my bedroom. In my desk drawer, I dug through a few spiral notebooks I kept for notes and found the red one I knew was unused. I pulled it free and returned to the living room.
When I plopped back down on the recliner, I flipped the notebook open to the first page. "We need some rules."
His brow furrowed. "For what?"
"For the wedding." I held his gaze. "We'll call it The Faker Rulebook."
Seven
Rook
My eyebrows shot up, and I sat forward. “I’m sorry, do what now? The Faker…”
“Rulebook,” Noah repeated as he flattened the notebook on the coffee table.
I stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Why do we need a rulebook?”
“Because this is already an insane idea. Don’t you think there should be rules?” He tilted his head, causing his blond hair to sweep across his forehead. “Lines neither of us should cross? Expectations set in place so neither of us are caught off guard?”
When I didn’t respond because I was too busy trying to wrap my head around the fact that he thought we needed some sort of guidelines, Noah shook his head and brought his pencil down on the blank sheet.
“Hold on.” I pushed off the couch. “If you’re going to put this crazy thing together, I want the right to veto the stupid ones.”
I perched on the armrest of the recliner and squinted down at the paper, where he’d written the title in his barely legible handwriting.
The Faker Rulebook
Shaking my head, I laughed under my breath. “You’re serious about this?”
“Yes, and you should be too.” Noah glanced at me. “Okay, so my mom means well, but you know she can be…nosy. Especially where my love life is concerned. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already checked my social media status.”
I nodded because that at least made sense. “Okay, so we change it.”
Noah began to write again.
Rule #1 Change social media status.
He jerked back. “Wait, you realize other people will see this, right?”
Actually, I hadn’t given it any thought. “Just do it. I’ll update mine now and leave the name blank.”
“Someone’s an overachiever. Give me my phone so I can do the same.” Without looking up, he held out his hand, palm up, wiggling his fingers.
“So demanding.” With a dramatic groan, I stood and rounded up our phones. When I returned, I reclaimed my seat and smacked his into his greedy hand.
Noah ignored the comment as we finished making the updates, before clearing his throat. “We have to be able to sell it, but not to the point where it’s unbelievable.”
“What’s unbelievable is that you’re writing down rules when we clearly don’t need them.”
Noah sighed. “Yes, Rook, we do. Rules serve all sorts of purposes. You know, like keeping our friendship intact.”
My eyebrows crashed together. “Why would our friendship be in trouble?”
“If things get weird… I don’t know. It’s going in there.” He wrote it down.
Rule #2 Make it seem real. Even though it isn’t.
“Hence the whole fake thing,” I sighed. “That one’s a given.”
He nodded absently as he tapped the eraser to the page. “How did we get together? You know she’s going to want details.”
Rule #3 Come up with a believable story.
Three rapid knocks came at the door, and Noah paused.
“Hold that thought. That’s the food.” I rose to my feet and jogged toward the front door.
I quickly paid for our breakfasts and carried the plastic bag back to the recliner, pulling Styrofoam containers out and checking under the lids. I passed the one with eggs, bacon and hash browns to Noah before placing mine on the table and sinking down onto the floor. As I grabbed the cup of maple syrup for my waffles, I waved him on. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”