2. Convince David to play nice and pretend to be my boyfriend for the entire engagement and the wedding.
You should have kept your mouth shut, I scolded myself as I got off the bus at the football stadium’s stop. I was hunting for David since he’d been ignoring my texts all morning. He still had his location sharing on from eight dares ago when we’d ventured to a town over for a music festival and crowd surfing.
There was no way for a normie like me to get on the field with the guys unless one of them had given someone express instructions to let me in. So, I was stuck heading for the stands and scanning the crowd of sweaty guys in a shirts and skins scrimmage.
“Yara,” a voice called from down the field. Hartjogged to where I was in the stands. Sweat or water, or both, slicked back his black hair. Shirtless, it was clear he was far larger than I’d ever given him credit for. He was built like a boulder, wide and impenetrable. His gaze contrasted with the intimidating reality that he could probably punch through a wall. Hart’s smile possessed a gentle welcomeness. I leaned on the stand’s fence, trying to make it easier for him to hear me.
“Morning,” I greeted.
“Good morning.” His smile brightened. “What brings you to our side of town?”
“Looking for…” I trailed off when Hart climbed. It was concerning at first because I couldn’t see a path up. But he moved without abandon, a clear sign he’d done this plenty of times before. I laughed when he reached me, his hands on the outside of mine and his face right in front of me.
“For?” Hart probed with a smile, rocking himself back and forth as he balanced.
“This feels a little dangerous and unnecessary,” I noted. We were close enough that I could smell the grass on him, see sweat in his hairline, and feel the weight of his curious gaze.
“I couldn’t hear you all the way down there,” Hart said, offering me a one-shoulder shrug.
I smiled. “I’m looking for David.”
“Right.” He tilted his head to the side, studying me. “Are you two a thing?”
“No.” I laughed a little. “Never.”
Well, technically never.
“You sure?” Hart squinted with a smile as he pretended he could see right through me. My plans to have David as my plus one for the next three months seemed to be written on my forehead.
“He’s not my type,” I promised.
“So why are you two always hanging out?”
“We’re one another’s karma,” I said simply. It would feel almost unethical not be there to shove David in the direction of optimism. And I’m sure he felt the same about his attempts at flooding my brain with pessimistic sentiment.
“Sounds intense,” Hart noted.
“Only at the beginning. Now, it’s as mundane as a morning shower. I wake up, go to class, and think of ways to make sure David remembers he’s not the center of the universe. It gets uninteresting and repetitive, but someone’s got to do it.”
Hart chuckled. “How long have you two known each other?”
“Since middle school.”
“Really? He never talks about you,” he said voice low, almost as if he were talking to himself. It was a simple statement. One that didn’t surprise me but somehow settled on my skin, making everything hot and unwelcoming.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, trying to sound uninterested, as thousands of questions about what or who David had shared filled my mind. “Would you consider him a friend?”
Because of course David wouldn’t talk about me to an acquaintance?—
“I’d say he’s one of my closest friends.” Hart’s declaration gave me pause.
My assumption came toppling onto my head, leaving a swollen bruise to my ego. “You’re joking.”
He shook his head. “He’d take a bullet for me.”
“David Arthur Evans would take a bullet for you.” I laughed because it’s nonsensical to think he’d even take a bus ride for someone.
“And I’d do the same for him,” Hart said without a moment’s hesitation.
