Page 25 of The Americana Playbook

Like always, I try to give her an out from this wild idea. But this isn’t breaking onto school grounds or sneaking into a movie we shouldn’t be seeing. This is faking a marriage while her father is thepresident.

“You pump fakes for a living, Fitzy. I’m just asking you to read from a different playbook.”

And then it hits me. Parker might think we’re calling one play, but maybe, I can run another—the quarterback sneak. I can be the fake husband she wants while proving that maybe, I’m really the man for her after all.

“Fuck it. I’ll do it.”

Parker’s mouth opens with a gasp that isn’t even halfway out of her mouth before she leaps at me.

I slip my arms around her while hers tighten around my neck. “I’m warning you in advance. I probably won’t be able to top this gift next year.”

But I love a challenge, I think to myself.I’m sure as hell going to try.

Parker smiles, sighing as she slides back down onto the ground. “This is the best one yet. Way better than that one at the roller rink when I turned ten.”

“You were nine.” I correct her. I pocket my hands because they’re itching to touch her again. “Someone bought the wrong candle, so Honey just turned the six upside down and stuffed it into the cake. You blew out one of her matches because there was no wick on the bottom end.”

A softness glazes over her eyes. “You remember that?”

“I told you,” I remind her. “Nothing about you is easy to forget.”

We hold each other’s gaze in silence, but I wonder if my eyes say what I think.

You’re impossible to forget because you’re in my heart.

This time, when Parker hugs me, she does so slowly, inching forward and wrapping me up by the middle. My chin lands on the top of her head.

“Thank you, Fitz.”

The whisper of her warm breath coats my skin even through my t-shirt, and I have to really focus on not getting lost in the feeling, knowing I’m going to be doing a lot of that from now on. Finally, after a moment, I find the words.

“All for one and one for all, right?” I joke as Parker breaks the embrace again.

“That’sThe Three Musketeers, Fitzy.”

“Right, sorry,” I clear my throat. “You and me, we’re something else.”

Parker nods. “Rebels only.”

“Are you still riding?”Fitz asks, raising his head to look at my boots by the door.

“Not as much as I want to. Can we stick to the task at hand?”

“Iam. Shouldn’t I know if my wife to be still has the same hobbies she used to as a kid?” Fitz rubs a hand over his face. “So what? I just pull up to the White House and say, ‘Hey, Mr. Montgomery, how have you been? I’m here to marry your daughter?’”

I lower the bottle of beer down from my mouth. “PresidentMontgomery.”

Fitz drops his fork into the box. In the past two hours, we’ve put away one and a half cookie cakes and nearly all the beer in my fridge, which, thankfully, wasn’t much. If I have another, I might outdrink my impulsive sober decision and convince myself that fake marrying my childhood best friend is probably not the smartest idea I’ve ever had.

But I guess when it comes to Fitz, I could probably do worse. For one, I know him and he knows me. And for the other… I could probably do a lot worse than a guy who is worth millions but has no issue eating while sitting on the floor, even if that means having to cross and uncross his thick, strong legs repeatedly to get comfortable.

“Hey, President Montgomery,” Fitz practices. “I know you haven’t really seen me since before I finished going through puberty, but I’m here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage?”

“Well, I hope you come up with something a little more heartfelt than that. I mean, come on, Fitz. You were the boy next door.” Being slightly above average at five-eight, I’m a little more mobile than him in the tight space. I push up onto my knees and lean closer. “This has the greatest love story written all over it.”

Yeah,Parker,I think to myself.You could’ve done way worse.

In addition to the tree trunk legs, Fitz also happens to be stupidly handsome. I don’t need another beer. If I keep staring at the swirl of green in his hazel eyes and the perfect contrast of his pink lips against the dark scruff of his beard, I won’t be able to walk in a straight line.

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