Page 23 of It's Complicated

If the butterflies in my belly last night were any indication… “Oh, it’s the same, but better,” I add. “No chances of nasty surprises.”

Kirsten smiles. “That’s so true. Would you like to join the others and try on your dress?”

I take in the small room and notice for the first time that I’m alone with Kirsten and a different shop assistant.

“The others already went to change,” Kirsten explains.

I drop my flute on a small glass table and follow the sales assistant to the fitting rooms.

Just as I’m about to put my phone away, another text arrives:

From Jace:

Remember to send me a pic

9

JACE

I send that last text—I probably shouldn’t have—and put my phone away in my gym bag. I definitely shouldn’t have sent it. Shaking my head, I enter the indoor basketball court, ready for my weekly one-on-one game with Aiden.

Should be interesting today.

My friend is already warming up with dribbles.

When he spots me, he stops the ball. “You made it, man.” Aiden throws me the ball in a fast pass. “I thought you were too busy knocking boots morning, day, and night.”

I toss the ball back to him. “Don’t give me that, dude! You know Lori becomes such a goofball when she’s under pressure.”

The ball flies back to me and, raising his hands, Aiden says, “Hey, I just hope you have enough stamina left to play.”

I study his teasing smile. It seems genuine—no hints of scorn. “I take it you’re good with me and Lori dating?”

We stare at each other and a million unspoken words pass between us, until Aiden says, “Took me a minute to digest the news. But after a couple of nights to sleep on it, I’m happy for you guys.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re my two best friends. I couldn’t wish for a better partner for either of you. Just don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t, man.” Even I should be able to not screw up a fake relationship.

“Ready to roll?”

Aiden tips off the ball, and the game is under way.

We play hard, driving to the basket over and over.

Aiden scores the first three points.

“Hey, man, did you forget to bring your game?”

I have the ball. “Got it,” I reply, not breaking stride. I drive to the basket for a layup when Aiden falls for a left fake. And dunk.

We alternate scoring until our hour is almost up. Aiden is up by one point. I’ve got the ball again, and shoot from outside the paint to sink a gorgeous, deep three-pointer.

Aiden catches the ball as it falls from the hoop and dribbles it toward the basket, unsuccessfully hiding a smirk.

I go after him.

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