Page 8 of Hard to Pretend

“So you typed up twenty different conversation starters, deleted them all, chickened out, and then called me?”

That was why I called Matt. Because as annoying as he could be with the whole hopeless romantic thing, he knew me. He knew me better than most people did. Almost as well as Jonas did, and he would know the next step.

“Yup.”

“Send the text.”

“What if he only gave me his number because he felt weird about the whole asking me to pretend we were seeing each other thing?”

“Then he’ll leave you on read.”

Great. So helpful.

“Matt,” I whined.

“Seb, if he doesn’t want to talk to you, he won’t talk to you. Chances are, since he gave you his numberandhe remembered you from your hookup, he wants to talk to you.”

I heaved a heavy sigh. Matt heaved one right back at me, causing me to roll my eyes. I really should have called someone else, but Matt was the best person for the job.

Even if he was feeling really spicy that day. He was far more sarcastic than usual.

“Fine. I’ll text him.” Matt didn’t say anything. “I will.” Still, absolute silence on the other end of the line. “Wait, Matt, are you still there?”

“I am.”

“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Because I’m waiting for you to text him. Listening to hear if I can hear when you actually hit the buttons.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I do love you.”

Matt laughed. “Text him.”

“I’m going to!” I should have done it right then, with Matt on the phone, but knowing he was listening felt oddly intrusive. “I’ll text him when we get off the phone.” Which meant I kind of wanted to keep Matt on the line as long as I could. It would give me more time to craft the perfect opening line.

Except the line went dead.

That asshole had hung up on me.

A moment later, my phone lit up with two words:

Matt

text him.

Seb

fine. I’m texting him.

Matt

no, you’re texting me. text fake boyfriend.

i expect to hear a full report tonight. And i want to see the messages.

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