Page 11 of From Best Friend to Bride
“Any time. At least you don’t wipe your snotty nose on my t-shirt anymore.”
“It’s been twenty years since I did that, dickhead.” I poked his thigh.
“Yeah, yeah.” He laughed quietly, lightly tapping his fingers against my arm. “So, tell me about this secret boyfriend of yours. I’m offended you didn’t tell me about him.”
“Why? Are you jealous of our non-existent relationship?” I teased. “It really is all Nana. She said she wanted to spend the rest of her time here being happy with us, and Mum said we’d do whatever we could to fulfil her final wishes.”
“Very noble of you all.”
“You’d think.”
Fred paused. “Why? What’s her final wish?”
“She only told us one, but it was horrifying. Truly. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from it.”
“Deli, are you sure you’re a manager at a pub and not secretly an actress?”
“She wants to see us all married, Fred.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “That’s on-brand for Nana, though. Lucy got married, what? Two years ago?”
“About that, yeah.”
“And your mum is dating that guy. What’s his name? Jerry?”
I laughed. “Jeff.”
“Yeah, Jeff.” Fred propped his feet up on the coffee table. “And you’re… probably the entire reason Nana said that.”
That was rude.
Yes, it was true, but it was still rude.
“You could at least pretend to be nice to me,” I mumbled. “Like I said, I’m having a crisis.”
“Yes, but the crisis is of your own making, Deli. You can tell me it’s because Nana took your words the wrong way, but you should know better than to speak before you think when she’s around. No doubt you said something along the lines of perhaps you did have a boyfriend, but you just weren’t telling her about him.” He rested his chin on the top of my head. “Am I right?”
What a brat.
I pouted. “Shut up. Shouldn’t we solve the problem of my non-existent fake lover first?”
“I like how you said ‘we’ just then. What exactly do you expect me to do about it?”
“I don’t know. You have hot, rich, single friends, don’t you? Would they like to pretend to date me for a few months?” I asked. “I’m a great cook. I can serve a fake boyfriend a killer spaghetti with a side of regret.”
“I thought that was your signature dish.”
“It is when I make it for you, dickhead.”
Fred’s shoulders shook. “Are you missing the part where Nana wants you to get married? Do you think she’s going to accept a mere relationship? She’s going to want to watch you walk down the aisle and you know it.”
Shit.
He was right.
“Okay, but she can’t force me to get married. I implied I had a secret boyfriend, but I didn’t say it was a serious relationship,” I reasoned. “She can’t just trot me down the aisle as she pleases. I’m not a princess in the sixteen-hundreds where my marriage is politically necessary to stop some foreign country invading us.”
“You’re being dramatic.” He prodded my side, making me squirm. “But does she know that? She probably doesn’t care. After all, it’s not like she’ll have to deal with the marriage part when she’s dead.”
