Best Friends Don't Kiss

Eek. I can’t stop myself from pulling my cell phone out of my pocket and typing out a discreet text message.Me: What are you doing right now?Luke: At the gym, why?Me: I think we need to do trial runs.Luke: ?I loathe when he just sends me a question mark or one single emoji.

And he knows it.

I mean, type actual words, for goodness’ sake.Me: Trial runs, as in practice dates. We need to make sure we can actually look like we’re dating.LukeI’ve barely finished my second set of biceps curls when my phone buzzes with another text. Normally, after a six-mile run through Central Park, I can speed through my weight workout at the gym, but my best friend is apparently adamant on slowing me down today.

And, practice dates? Fucking hell.

I set my dumbbells back on the rack and sit down on a nearby bench to shoot her a message back.Me: I thought we already agreed no lists or complicated plans, Ace.Ava: Excuse me, but I recall tossing my Best Friends Don’t List in the trash…Pretty sure she didn’t toss that list in the trash, and if I know Ava, she’s probably hoarding it somewhere in her apartment. But I choose to pick my battles.Me: What do these practice dates entail exactly?Ava: I don’t know. Just…practice. Like, scheduled dates where we go out in public and act like we’re in a relationship. Get a feel for it, you know?The sound of weights clinking muffles my chuckle as I shake my head.

First, lists.

Now, practice dates.

Ava obviously doesn’t realize it, but the two of us? We don’t need any of that shit.

We’ve seen each other at the highest highs and the lowest lows. We’ve been there for every relationship and every breakup, and at this point, I probably know more about Ava than her own mother—and that’s not even an exaggeration.

“Tell me you’re sexting in the middle of your workout, and I swear to God, it’ll make my fluffing day.”

I look up to find Thatcher Kelly, clad in jogging pants and a T-shirt that reads Property of Cassie, standing directly in front of me with a big-ass grin on his face.

Because we go to the same gym, every great once in a while, we run into each other mid-workout. Well, it started out as his exclusive, impossible-to-get-into Manhattan gym, but he did what Thatch does best and sweet-talked the owner into letting me become a member. Despite the fact that my bank account doesn’t end in seven zeros.

“Very funny.” I bark out a laugh. “And, no. I wasn’t sexting.”

“Oh, so just sending dick pics, then?”

“Texting, dude. I was just texting with Ava.”

“Ava?” He quirks a brow. “That’s the best friend, right? The one who’s trolling TapNext?”

“No longer trolling TapNext, but yes, my best friend Ava,” I correct, and he smiles his biggest shit-eating grin.

“No longer trolling TapNext, eh?” He winks. “I guess that means you figured it out, and you’re banging.”

My eyebrows shoot together. “We’re not having sex. And figured what out?”

“Oh. Whoops. What’s going on, then?”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”

“Luke, my man, I’m not walking away until you fill up my gossip cup.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?” I groan and run a hand through my slightly sweaty hair, but when Thatch makes no move to respond or leave, I add, “You really want to know?”

“Are you kidding me?” he exclaims. “I love tea. I’ll guzzle that shit any chance I can get.”

God only knows why, but I tell him the whole sordid tale.

The fact that Ava realized online dating is horrible.

That the only reason she’s been online dating is to find a date to bring home to Vermont for the holidays, her high school reunion, and her sister’s wedding.

And that, because I’m an awesome best friend, I offered to play the role of fake boyfriend so she didn’t have to keep going on dates with idiots.

The instant I finish, Thatch starts cracking up like I’m Kevin Hart, and I’ve just delivered my best fucking stand-up routine.

“What?” I question in confusion. “Why is that so funny?”

“It’s nothing,” he responds, still laughing. “But now, I hope you realize, I will require constant updates on how this goes.”

“Why in the hell would you want to know how this goes?”

He grins like the Cheshire cat. “Because this is the best fluffing thing I’ve heard since you told me you and Ava are just friends.”

I groan. “We are. Best of.”

“Uh-huh.” That grin turns devilish. “You know…” He pauses and taps his chin dramatically. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard this tale before. At least seven times. And every single one of them ended with me watching my buddy stand at the altar and say, “I do.”

“Whoa. Slow your roll, Thatch.” I cough on my own saliva. “While I know you have a serious soft spot for rom-coms and romance novels, my life isn’t a Lifetime movie.”