Page 35 of Against The Rules

Presley scrunches her nose up, clearly confused, as she sticks the dress back in my packed closet. “Too short?”

“I’m…” I exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m meeting a guy’s parents.”

There. Not exactly a lie. I mean, it sounds a whole lot better than saying, oh, you know, just off to meet my mother- and father-in-law, oh by the way, I got married while I was drunk in Vegas, and the best part is, I’ll lose everything if anyone finds out!

“Yep,” I say, drawing the syllable out. “A guy’s parents.”

“Oooh,” she says, her eyebrows sky-high. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”

“Mmm,” I say, pulling out a creamy white dress. It’s a little late for white, but it’s still technically summer.

“That’s very bridal,” Presley comments, and I swallow hard and put it back in the closet so fast I nearly snap the hook off the plastic hanger.

“Is it serious? It must be, if you’re meeting his parents. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this guy.” Presley’s face is crestfallen, and guilt threatens to swallow me up.

“It’s just brunch,” I say, and those words feel a lot more like a lie than anything else I’ve said so far.

My thing with Tyler Matthews is not “just” anything.

I’m married to him.

Even now, over a week later, the phrase brings me up short.

“Parents, huh? Brunch with parents.” Presley pulls out a navy dress, one I haven’t worn in ages, with a square neck that doesn’t show too much boob and hits right above the knee. “This one.”

She hums, pulling out a pair of espadrilles next and handing them to me. “There. Wear it with cute little studs, or some tiny dangles, and you’re good to go.”

“Thank you, Pres,” I say.

“I’m happy for you,” she says quietly, but despite her words, her eyes are sad.

I bite my lip. I should ask about Trent, and figure out what her latest drama is with him, but I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of giving her the same advice only for her to ignore it, over and over, and choose a guy who treats her like dog poop.

“Love you, Presley.” I fold her into a hug, knowing we’re both lying to each other about the men in our lives.

She leans heavily against me and sighs.

I just hope we’re not lying to ourselves, too.

At least my thing with Tyler is fake. I won’t get hurt. Presley, on the other hand…

“I can’t wait to tell you about him,” I say, pulling away from her and grinning. “He’s so cute.” That’s true enough. “Oh my god, I have so many things to fill you in on. I think…” I bite my lip, because how the hell am I going to explain the sudden windfall of cash? “I think I’m going to quit my job.”

“Shut up!” Presley beams at me, and then gives me another quick hug. “I’m so freaking happy for you. You know what? Let’s have a girls’ night in a couple weeks. Just me and you, yeah? We can do the whole spa thing, watch a movie, no boys, just girl talk. And I’ll refresh your highlights.”

“Oh my god,” I breathe out a sigh of relief. “That would be great. I swear to god, Rebecca was just breathing down my neck about my hair.”

“I don’t know how you put up with her bullshit. Ugh. She sounds terrible.”

I bite back a retort because I don’t want to undo this fragile truce.

“Friday? Two weeks? I don’t have practice then, and since it’s an away game week, I don’t have to be up at the stadium at the crack of dawn on Saturday.”

“It’s a date.” She pushes me towards my bathroom. “Now go put some makeup on and go impress this guy’s parents. Parents love you, but I am not loving those dark circles under your crusty eyes, Savvy.”

I snort because I know she’s right. I stayed up way too late after the game last night, wondering if Ty would text, wondering if he would call. He didn’t.

So then I stayed up even later, making spreadsheet after spreadsheet of vendors and merchandise and pricing out items. Giddiness makes me grin, and I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror for a good minute before starting my makeup routine.

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