Page 125 of Fake As Puck
I want to dance with her at the reception and know that when the song ends, she’s going home with me.
I want to wake up next to her the morning after and know that this is just the beginning.
I want all of it.
The question is: does she want it too?
34
“We’re going full glow-up,” Tessa announces when she picks me up Thursday evening. “I’m talking shopping, nails, facials, haircuts. The whole nine yards.”
“People do crazy things for weddings,” I mutter.
“It’s not just a wedding. It’s the wedding where you’re going to see my brother for the first time in two and a half weeks. The wedding where my family is going to meet you as my brother’s girlfriend, not my best friend. The wedding where you’re going to figure out if this thing between you two is real or if you’re both just really good at pretending.”
“No pressure,” I whisper with wide eyes.
She laughs. “None at all.”
Our first stop is the mall, where Tessa immediately drags me to the kids’ section because she “needs something cute for Charlie and Emma to wear.”
I watch her hold up tiny outfits with the same intensity most people reserve for major life decisions.
“This one or this one?” she asks, showing me two equally adorable options for Emma.
“They’re both cute.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“The pink one brings out her eyes.”
“See? This is why I need you there. You have opinions.”
“I have good taste.”
We spend an hour picking out outfits for the kids, and then Tessa turns her attention to me.
“Now for the main event,” she says, steering me toward the women’s section. “I want my brother to drool when he sees you.”
“Tessa—” I huff.
“I’m serious. I want his jaw to hit the floor. I want him to forget how to form words. I want him to realize that letting you go would be the biggest mistake of his life.”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on a dress.”
“The right dress can change everything.”
She pulls dress after dress off the racks. Some are too formal, some too casual, some that would look amazing on her but definitely not on me.
“Try this one,” she says, handing me a deep emerald green dress that’s simple but elegant.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s perfect. It matches your eyes, it’s sophisticated but not trying too hard, and it’s going to make my brother lose his mind.”
“I’m not trying to make your brother lose his mind.”
“Yes, you are.”
