Page 38 of Spring Tide

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There’snothing like the heady anticipation of asking your fake sort-of girlfriend on a fake sort-of date.

I couldn’t bring myself to approach Harper directly after that phone call, so I waited. It’s only been two days, but Danny’s already given me three reminders about our upcoming rendezvous: two texts and one scheduled phone call.

My best friend is fucking eager, that’s for sure. And I’m ... rightfully freaking out. I haven’t asked a girl out on a first date since I was seventeen years old. Not that this is an actual date, but the stakes are just as monumental.

If Harper says no, if she says it’s not part of our deal, then I’ll be spending my Friday night looking like a lonely asshole. I’ll be forced to suffer through an entire evening with the loved-up couple because there’s no way I’m telling Danny to uninvite his girlfriend. Not at this point.

That would make it seem like I still care when I really don’t.

I mean, Ihardlydo.

Harper answers her front door at the first sound of my knocking. Her face lights up with that happy-go-lucky smile, we exchange a quick greeting, and she guides us back toward her bedroom. I’m sweating bullets as I trail behind her, even though I’ve thrown on a thin T-shirt and athletic shorts tonight.

I decided not to bother with the jeans this time, considering my pants are coming off in a matter of minutes. As soon as she closes her bedroom door, I strip down to my boxers and settle onto her mattress.

She blinks a few times in my direction, lips curling in subtle amusement. “Someone’s eager to get started.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” I awkwardly chuckle, heat warming the back of my neck.

“Great, I thought we could add in some more resistance exercises tonight. I brought some light ankle weights and these exercise bands.” She’s a ball of excited energy, bouncing on her feet as she gathers up the equipment. “I think you might be up for the challenge.”

“Okay.” My eyes squeeze shut, word vomit spilling out before I can restrain it. “Will you go out with me on Friday night? On a date?”

She’s quiet for a few long moments, during which I spend every painstaking second contemplating my own existence. When she finally opens her mouth, all that comes out is a very confused “Umm ...”

“Not a real date,” I quickly clarify, pressing my sweat-damp palms against my thighs. “My best friend is coming into town with his girlfriend, and he wants to meet you. I told him I’d ask, but if you already have plans or you think it’s too—”

“I kinda do have plans,” she cuts in, a strange quirk to her brow. “I’m supposed to meet Nate for drinks again.”

“Right,Nate.” I clear my throat, spine stiff as I perch on the edge of her bed. “Just thought I’d ask. No worries. We should get started, though.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She settles into the desk chair, her gaze soft as she assesses me. “I can always reschedule with Nate. I mean, we can do drinks anytime. You’re my friend, Luca. If you need me on Friday, then I’m coming with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Duh.” She laughs, and it’s a soft, musical sound that softens my rigid posture. “I think it sounds fun. What’s your bestie like?”

“Mybestie?” I snort, rubbing some tension out of my shoulder. “He’s a decent guy. We’ve been friends for ages.”

“But he doesn’t live here?”

“He goes to Dayton. He’s there on a D1 scholarship.”

She tilts her head, brows drawn back together in confusion. “If he doesn’t go to Coastal and he doesn’t play for the Ospreys, why’d you lie to him about us?”

My brain scrambles to generate a believable excuse, something that sounds a lot better than the truth. First, that I’m a desperate fool. And second, that I wanted to show my best friend and my ex that I don’t give a fuck about their relationship.

That I’ve moved on to greener pastures.

“I told you it was between us,” I carefully admit my partial truth. “I made you lie to your friends, and I don’t do double standards.”

“I guess that makes sense.” She leans forward in her chair, elbows propped on her knees as our eyes meet. “So how are we gonna do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know you have to at least pretend to like me on Friday, right?”

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