“If anyone asks, I think we should keep it simple. We could just tell everyone that we realized what we felt was deeper than friendship. We went out. The rest is history.”
Nodding, I poured enough syrup to drench my waffles into a soggy mess. “Agreed. What’s next?”
Noah didn’t bother with his food. His concentration was laser focused on his task. I glanced at what he was writing.
Rule #4 PDA Limits
“This should be good.” Rolling my eyes, I cut a bite of waffle and moaned as the syrupy goodness flooded my mouth.
He scribbled at a furious pace as I mentally counted each new rule. There were fucking five of them, all of them revolving around when and where we could kiss and touch. My eyebrows arched as I met his gaze. “That’s a lot to remember.”
“Well, you have two weeks to memorize them, and I figured it would be best to be specific.” He shrugged. “Any you want to add?”
“Uh, no. This is your circus. I’m just the monkey.”
Noah’s chuckle made me smile. “Oh!”
I sighed. "What are you adding now?"
“There might be questions or situations we haven’t prepared for. We need a code word.”
“A code…” I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it.
He glared down at me. “Fine, we probably won’t need it. But if we do, you’ll thank me for this when we aren’t trying to lie ourselves out of a situation where our stories don’t match.”
“This whole thing is a lie!” My voice rose and syrup dripped from the fork I pointed at him.
He simply grunted in response and wrote the next rule.
Rule #9 Chaplin
“Seriously, Noah? Chaplin, as in Charlie Chaplin?”
“Well, you weren’t exactly throwing out ideas, so yes. If either of us texts or says it, we’ll know something’s up.”
Shaking my head for what must have been the tenth time, I twirled my fork, soaking up syrup in my waffle. “Are you done?”
“Almost.” Noah paused while the eraser bounced erratically against the table. “We should talk about kissing.”
I stuffed the wad of food in my mouth. “I thought we already covered that.”
“We did…” Noah hedged. “Mostly.”
I cocked a brow. “Your five hundred PDA rules didn’t cover something?”
There went the pencil again. When he was done, I frowned at the newest demand.
Rule #10 No tongue.
“Of all your rules, that’s the dumbest one. I’m definitely using tongue.” I wiped a napkin over my mouth. “You know, for a film student, you sure are taking all the fun out of the acting.”
“And you’re supposedly straight,” Noah muttered with a shake of his head and began writing again.
Could you be straight when the best kiss you’ve ever had was with another guy? “What I mean is I’ll kiss you however the situation calls for, so I’m not agreeing to that.”
“It’s already in the book, so you don’t get a choice.” Noah grinned without looking up, still adding to the list.
Rule #11 No fucking pet names!
After I read the last rule, I scoffed. “Vetoed. Next.”
“You can’t veto that, Rook!” He scowled.
“I just did, Noah,” I sang before popping another bite of waffle into my mouth. “Are you done now? Can we put this thing away?”
He glared and scribbled down another damn rule before holding it up and shoving it in my face. I ripped it from his hand and read.
Rule #12 No hooking up with other people at the wedding.
Obviously. I sighed. “What else?”
This time I wasn’t at all surprised when he once more moved the pencil around the page.
Rule #13 Rules may be added when necessary.
“You do realize this has a ninety-nine percent chance of failure, right? You can’t just stick to a script if you want something to feel real.”
“I don’t want it to feel real,” he whispered. “I want to make sure we remember it isn’t.”
Confused, I stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He didn’t.
Instead, he cleared his throat. “We’ve been best friends for a decade. There’s only one way we can pull this off.”
The pencil moved slower this time, and when he was finished, he leaned back.
Rule #14 Pretend to be in love.
As my gaze traced the letters, I clamped my mouth shut.
Maybe the rulebook made sense after all. Without them, Noah was just my boyfriend. And the fact that I didn’t immediately balk at the idea surprised me.
“You need to relax. We know everything about each other, okay?” I reassured him because I didn’t know what else to say. “We can totally pull this off.”
Noah huffed as he finally set the stupid thing aside and opened his own breakfast, filling the room with the scent of greasy bacon. “We just need to figure out how to be convincing.”
“We will.” I stood. “I’m going to make coffee. Want some?”
He finally set the pencil down. “Sure. Thanks.”
Eight
Rook
When Knight had given us a ride to the airport, I’d thought it was cold outside, but it had been nothing compared to the crisp bite in the Colorado wind once we’d stepped outside to find our rental car.
Equipped with much appreciated seat warmers, the sleek black sedan ate up the miles toward the resort Trevor’s future in-laws owned. The setting sun glowed in the rearview mirrors as we passed stately pine trees dusted in powdery snow that lined the roads and filled in the white landscape.
An endless stretch of highway led us toward the mountain range in the distance. Their snowy caps reached high in the sky, and as they grew closer, my legs began to ache with the need to stand and stretch them out. Between the plane ride and being cooped up in the car, they’d begun to cramp.
Music played from the speakers, keeping me alert though I was tired. Noah snoozed in the passenger seat, and I couldn’t blame him. It had already been a long day.
As we neared our destination, I kept an eye out for landmarks and street signs.
"Why couldn't your brother marry a local girl?" I mumbled and turned the heater higher. With the sun dipping below the horizon, the roads were quickly growing slick as sleet fell.
Noah yawned, and I reached for the radio, turning down the volume until it was little more than a hum. “Enjoy your nap?”
“So much.” He chuckled. “Do you know where you're going?"
"Pretty sure it's the next exit." Just after I replied, the GPS informed us through the speakers that our exit was two miles away. Thank fuck. I rolled my neck back and forth to ease the stiffness
Noah stared out the window, watching the scenery pass by. “You know, as much as I hate the cold, Mom was right. It’s fucking gorgeous here.”
Even though I agreed, I still wanted to get back to Texas. I never thought I’d appreciate the mild winters I’d thought we’d suffered back home.
I exhaled a relieved breath as the turnoff came into view and slowed down as we took the service road. When the resort came into view, my eyes widened. The massive lodge sat in the center of snow-covered grounds with only a few cars parked by the entrance.