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I run my palms along my jeans-clad thighs. “Long story short, he told my brother we’re fake dating so he can protect me from my ex and protect his relationship with Beck. But even if it’s starting out as fake, I’m looking for a way to make it…you know, real. All the pieces are there. I just need to figure out how to make myself irresistible to him, get him to trust me again, and boom! Before you know it, he’ll be head over heels.”
“That seems like kind of a tall order, don’t you think?” she asks.
I shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
She offers a rather unladylike snort. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
I heave out a heavy breath. “I guess not.”
“Okay. What do we know about him? What’s he like? What does he like?”
“He likes football. He’s athletic and strong. He likes working out.”
“Oh! Get some dumbbells to impress him with your athletic prowess!” she suggests.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not fifteen anymore, Kel.”
She giggles. “Did you really do that when you were fifteen?”
My blush gives me away.
“Okay, not dumbbells.” She sighs. “What else does he like? Did you dig any deeper when you spent the night with him?”
I shrug. “Kinda. Not really.”
She taps her chin thoughtfully. “So you’re in the getting to know you phase.”
I nod. “Right. Even though we sort of know each other, we don’t really know each other. He said he used to pull pranks on his brothers, so maybe there’s something there.”
She wrinkles her nose. “You want to act like one of his brothers?”
“No, but I want to make him laugh. I want to bond with him. I want him to find me funny.”
“By pranking him?”
“I don’t know,” I say, a touch more frustration in my tone than I mean for there to be. “I’m just spit-balling here.”
“That’s such a gross phrase, spit-balling.”
I sigh. “Can we stay focused?”
“Right, pranks. What kind of pranks?”
“I think that’s where I need some help. And you’re a planner, so, you know…help me plan, or whatever.” I’m very clearly not the planner in this friendship. I’m more the bumbling through life hoping for the best kind of gal.
“We should go back to that bar,” she suggests.
“Why?”
“Maybe he’ll be there. And maybe Austin Graham will be, too.” She raises both brows, and I raise both of mine back.
“Austin Graham?”
“What, you can snag an NFL player, but I’m shit outta luck? I think not, my friend.”
“Did we ever talk about how it went when you started talking to him?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Nope.”
