“Obviously, this is just a start, and we’ll have to add more—”
“Nope.” I laugh my refusal. “This is ridiculous.”
“What?” Her eyes go wide. “Why?”
“We don’t need a list of rules, Ace,” I retort on another laugh. “I’m pretty sure we both know the boundaries.”
“Luke, we need a list.”
“Ava, we don’t need a list.”
“Yes. We. Do.”
“Are you planning on trying to have sex with me?”
Her eyes turn wide and shocked. “Of course not.”
“Then we don’t need a fucking list that says not to.”
“Luke—”
“Look, I offered to go to Vermont with you and be your fake boyfriend for the holidays. And trust me, I’ll play that part well. I’ll hold your hand, do cutesy shit for you in front of your family, but I’m not going to sit back and let you write a million fucking rules that I’m supposed to remember.”
“I wasn’t going to write that many. There are four so far.”
“Ava, c’mon,” I say through a laugh. “When you’re in crazy detail mode like this, your to-do lists have to-do lists. You become the queen of neurotically plotting out every single damn detail. And I know this list will be no different. Four items is just the beginning. Trust me, I’m saving us both a lot of headaches.”
She stares down at the page.
“You already have another thing you want to add to that damn list, don’t you?”
“Of course not.” She shakes her head and digs her teeth into her bottom lip.
I grin. “Liar.”
“I can’t help it! When I’m stressed out like this, planning everything out makes me feel calm!”
“There’s no need to stress, okay?” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and tuck her close to my side. “This trip is going to be a good trip. We’re going to have fun together, and we’re going to make everyone think we’re in a relationship while we’re doing it. We can even map out a basic plan if it makes you feel better.”
“How basic?”
I sit up, snag the pen from behind her ear, and write it down.
Go to Vermont.
Enjoy Christmas.
Go to Ava’s high school reunion (and tell Callie she’s a bitch).
Dance, drink, eat cake at Kate’s wedding.
Come back to New York.
“That’s a sad excuse for a plan.” She rolls her eyes, but then giggles. “Well, besides the telling Callie she’s a bitch part. That’s pretty good.”
“We’ve been best friends for years, Ace. I know you better than I know anyone. Hell, sometimes I know you better than I know myself,” I respond, take the highlighter out of her hand, shut the notebooks, and shove everything to the side of the coffee table. “Trust me on this. This is the only plan we need.”
“And if your plan goes up in freaking flames?”
“It won’t, but if it does, then—”
“Then I’ll put it out, just like the infamous hot plate.”
I chuckle. “Okay. Yeah.”
I smile at her hard-earned acquiescence. Honestly, I’m just looking forward to spending time with Ava before I have to leave New York for good.
Which you still haven’t told her about…
Internally, I cringe. I will tell her the NASA news, but not tonight.
For now, I just want to focus on reassuring Ava that we’re going to enjoy ourselves in Vermont and she has no need to be stressed out over the little shit.
November 18th
Ava
Nearly simultaneously, my laptop pings with a new email and my phone chimes with a text notification. On a sigh, I click out of the Excel spreadsheet I’m currently working through and check my inbox first.
From: Callie Camden-Baccus
Subject: Change of plans!
Ava,
I know you’ve already put the order in at the bakery, but I’ve decided we need to go with a vanilla cake instead of chocolate. And I think our additional desserts need to be a little fancier than simple cupcakes. I mean, this is our fifteen-year high school reunion we’re talking about. I’m thinking something like macarons or eclairs or miniature cheesecakes.
XOXO, Callie
For the love of everything, it’s just desserts.
With the way she keeps flooding my inbox with bullshit like this, you’d think we were planning for the Queen’s arrival. Pretty sure the people we went to high school with will give exactly zero fucks about what flavor cake we order. If there’s free booze, which I’ve already ensured would be there after Miss Planner Extraordinaire tossed that onto my plate the other day, then I’d say we’re good. No doubt, the alcohol is the most important part for just about anyone who is forced to attend their high school reunion.