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“You’re joking, right?”
“Why would I be joking?” I ask.
“Um…because you hate weddings?” Lydia says.
She’s not wrong about that. I do hate weddings. I hate the insane amount of spending on one fucking day. I hate the bad music, the awful food, the forced seating arrangements, and especially the drunken dancing.
But I guess in my empathy for Lydia’s situation, I’d forgotten about my loathing for the event in question.
“Why do you hate them so much, anyway?” asks Lydia, cocking her head curiously at me.
“I just do,” I grumble.
Lydia studies me for a few seconds longer. “You’d really do that for me, Hunter?”
Shit. Well…now that I’ve made the suggestion, I’m not going to back out. “I’d really do that for you, Lydia.”
“Aw. You’re so nice.” She breaks out in a smile. But then the smile fades. “The thing is, though...the whole point is that I’m going with a date. If I show up with you, everyone’s still going to bug me about being single.”
“So we’ll tell them we’re dating.”
Lydia laughs. “Okay, now you’re definitely kidding.”
“Jesus. I’m not, Lydia.” My words come out a little gruffer than I intend. But it finally gets my seriousness across to Lydia.
“Wait,” says Lydia. “You’re really suggesting we should fake a relationship? Like in a romance novel?”
“Yep. Like in one of your romance novels.”
“What will you get out of it, though?” she asks.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“We both need to get something out of it. That’s the way this works.”
“What, the joy of doing something nice for a friend doesn’t count?” I ask.
“Nope,” she says. “It’s gotta be something else.”
“Okay,” I say. I look around the coffee shop, as if the answer’s going to be there. Nothing comes to mind. “I can’t think of anything right now. But…let’s just say you’ll owe me? I’ll cash in the favor sometime in the future?”
“Deal,” says Lydia, and sticks out her hand.
