The early morning sun slants through my bedroom window as I zip up my suitcase. Everything's packed. Thermal layers, snow gear, toiletries and one obnoxious holiday sweater with actual working lights that Tyler called "the perfect ugly sweater."
"Let's review again," Tyler says, sprawling across my bed and tossing a stress ball toward the ceiling.
I glance at my best friend. His blonde hair is still damp from his post-gym shower, hazel eyes barely containing their amusement. Despite being a good three inches shorter than me, he's built like a tank. Years of competitive swimming left him with shoulders nearly as broad as mine and today he's in his standard weekend uniform: black Nike joggers and a faded Colorado State hoodie that's seen better days.
"Nothing to review," I say, double-checking my toiletry bag. "We're just two adults pretending to be in love for a week."
Tyler catches the stress ball and points it at me accusingly. "Except one of you isn't pretending."
"Shut up."
"Just saying." He sits up, grinning. "Most guys don't fly across the country to meet the parents of a woman they're 'just helping out.'"
I zip my toiletry bag and toss it in my suitcase. "You're the one who told me to go for it."
"Quick, what's her favorite food?" He asks suddenly.
I roll my eyes but play along. "Thai. Specifically, pad see ew, extra spicy."
"Allergies?"
"Shellfish gives her hives, and she's sensitive to cheap metal jewelry. Her ears turn red."
"First date location?"
"The new italian place downtown. I impressed her with my extensive wine knowledge." I've memorized our fabricated history so thoroughly it almost feels like a real memory—Charlie laughing across the table, fork raised in mock battle over the last bite.
"Wedding song?"
I snatch the stress ball mid-air and peg it at his head. "Fuck off."
Tyler cackles and dodges the ball. "Hey! Just making sure you're prepared for all possibilities." He checks his watch. "We should head out before traffic becomes a nightmare."
I grab my bags and we load them into Tyler's truck along with my favorite snowboard. The December air has a bite to it this morning, but nothing compared to what's waiting in Colorado. Tyler cranks the heat and we pull away from my townhouse.
"You nervous?" he asks after a few minutes of silence.
"About what? Playing the doting boyfriend? I think I can manage." I watch the suburban landscape roll by, all decked out with holiday decorations.
"About spending a week with Charlie, pretending to be madly in love with her, while sleeping in the same room."
I shoot him a look. "Well, when you put it like that..."
"While meeting her parents and her ex?"
"You're really helping, you know that?"
"Just doing my job as best friend." He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "You know, most guys would kill for this setup. A legitimate excuse to hold hands, cuddle by the fire, share a bed with someone they're into."
"It's not that simple."
"When is it ever?" He challenges, merging onto the highway.
I'm saved from responding when my phone buzzes. Charlie's name appears on the screen, and I can't help the immediate smile that forms.
Tyler glances over. "Oh god. Look at your face. Can I be your best man at the wedding?"
"Shut up," I mutter, opening the text.
