I study him for a second and catch a glimpse of the boy I used to know—long limbs, awkward grin, someone I couldtalk to for hours. Easton has always been one of the good ones.
And honestly, this whole thing rubs me the wrong way. People shouldn’t have to jump through hoops just to get what’s theirs. Fuck that.
“But how would that even work?” I ask, leaning back in my chair. “We haven’t seen each other in years, and suddenly we’re getting married? I’m not sure anyone’s going to buy that.”
“I don’t see why not,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve known each other since we were in diapers.”
I huff out a quiet laugh.
“We have history,” he continues. “Maybe not romantic, but it’s still there. People reconnect all the time. Why is it so hard to believe we’d choose each other now?”
I press my lips together, considering it. He’s not wrong. Friends getting married later in life after striking out elsewhere—it happens.
“Alright,” I say slowly. “I can’t promise I’ll say yes, but I’ll think about it.”
It’s practical—no strings attached. And even if I already know my answer, I can say that I gave it some thought but decided against it.
So why does it feel like I’m overlooking something?
Easton’s face lights up instantly.
“I haven’t said yes,” I add, grabbing my fork. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” I take a bite of my salad and hum under my breath. It’s divine.
“But you didn’t say no either,” he says, that boyish grin firmly back in place. “I’ll take that as a win.”
Easton starts sharing stories about his trips through small English towns, and lunch slips into an easy, relaxed afternoon with an old friend.
“This is exactly what I needed,” I tell him, taking a sip of my second glass of bubbly.
Easton lifts a brow.
“I’ve been buried in work lately,” I admit, picking at the fruit salad I ordered. “Between my girlfriends this weekend and lunch with you today, I feel ten pounds lighter.”
“I’m glad I could help,” he says, pushing his chair back as he stands. “As much as I hate to cut this short, I’ve got a meeting.” He rolls his eyes playfully, and this time I actually laugh.
“Yeah, well. There’s this thing called adulting. We hate it, but we can’t avoid it.” I stand and pull him into a quick hug.
For a second, everything feels normal again. Easy. Familiar. Like no time has passed at all.
“I’ll be waiting for your call, future wife.” He shoots me a wink as we walk toward the valet.
I smile, even if it doesn’t quite reach my eyes.
I’ve never seriously pictured myself getting married. But this? This wouldn’t be real. Just a favor.
No emotions. No complications.
That’s the deal.
My mind drifts—uninvited—to a smirk I’ve been trying not to think about all day.
I push it away.
Mierda.
Chapter 6
Miles
