Page 27 of Friends Who Fake It

“Yes,” he said, immediately.

“And you’ll bring Willow? The others will be so delighted to hear your news.”

“No,” his response was immediate. “I’m sure she’ll be busy. She always is.”

“Let’s ask her,” Gianni said, with a careless shrug that belied an inner-strength Francesco had rarely had to deal with personally. A shift of movement and the older couple was moving across the elegant hall, towards Willow, who broke away from the women she’d been talking to and allowed herself to be drawn into indulgent, warm embraces. Francesco was frozen, temporarily, to the spot, but he began to move quickly enough, so he arrived in time to hear Maria say, “You must come, darling. Francesco thinks you might have plans, but I know you’ll be able to put them aside, to spend some time with his family. We are so thrilled with this development, you see.”

Her eyes were saucer-like when they lifted to his. Like a deer caught in headlights, he thought, with a grimace.

“I told you—,” he began, wanting to extricated Willow—and himself—from this expectation. “She’s busy.”

“But busy is not unavailable. Surely you can make yourself available, for us?”

She looked from Gianni to Maria with an expression of unflappable calm. But Francesco saw beneath it. He saw the fluttering at the base of her throat that spoke of a rapidly twisting pulse, the quick movements in her eyes that showed an over-active brain.

“Uncle, do not force her into the family already.”

“Force her? Darling, we’ve known her since she was this big,” Maria said, indicating a space around her hip. “She is already like family. Of course she must come and see everyone. Especially now,” Maria added, meaningfully, turning to look at Francesco. “We could all use some good news and distraction…”

Francesco ground his teeth. His aunt didn’t have a manipulative bone in her body, but that didn’t matter. The effect was the same. He felt backed into a corner, and so did Willow, going by the way her features shifted, briefly, into an expression of resolve.

“It’s fine,” she said, a bright smile getting rid of any hint of reticence. “I can come. I’d love to see everyone again,” she added, and he wondered if she’d ever contemplated acting as a career option, because everything about her response was utterly convincing.

* * *

“I shouldn’t have agreed.”

Francesco studied her for a beat and her insides twisted with discomfort. “Do you want me to get you out of it?”

She pulled a face. “Like they’ll let you.”

His smirk was pure arrogance. “I am a grown enough man to have some say in my life,cara.”

“No, it’s okay,” she said, biting down on her lip. “It’s just one more weekend.” Her eyes lifted to his, a reflection of the torment inside of her. “Do you mind?”

“Pretending to be your boyfriend for a couple of nights?” he prompted. “I suppose I’ll survive.”

“I’m serious,” she murmured. “This is your whole family…”

“I know.” He stopped dancing, his lips quirking into a frown. “It’s not ideal. I would have preferred to stick to our agreement, as it was. But I’m sure we can find a way to make the best of it.”

Heat flushed her whole body from the inside out. “Yeah, I guess there’s a silver lining,” she admitted, but even that was so incredibly complicated. How could she want this man so much when she thought she was in love with Tom? Everything was turned completely upside down.

“Listen, we know what we’re doing, right?” Francesco prompted, so Willow glanced up at him, and her breath caught in her throat a little at how handsome he was. “We’re friends who are faking it. No one’s going to get hurt, no one’s going to find out about our deal. We’ll get through next weekend and move on. Okay?”

She nodded slowly.

“You sure? Cause you look like you’re about to be sick.”

She laughed a little and nodded, but the truth was, how could she be sure? Sleeping together had the potential to muddle everything. But she couldn’t let it. They had to remain committed to the original plan here. Fake relationship, no strings, no real feelings.

“Listen, it’s no big deal,cara.Come, don’t come, it doesn’t matter to me either way. If you decide you would rather stay in London, I’ll break it to Gianni and Maria. You decide, yes?”

She ignored the way her heart felt strangely heavy, her stomach all tangled. But the truth was, her deepest childhood fear was being unwanted. It wasn’t even so much a fear as a fact: she had been unwanted. By Meredith, at least, who would have liked to have her family without the inconvenient addition of a stepdaughter, and by the twins, perhaps, who’d always had each other, and didn’t need anyone else.

Willow had always gotten through life by not putting herself out there. She made friends, but those friendships were surface level, easy to separate herself from, to walk away when needed.

Francesco had somehow made that difficult. She’d always felt a tug towards him—weirdly, given he was all big, alpha, man mountain, a pull to protect him. As though he had vulnerabilities she understood, and she alone could help him with.

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