Trial boyfriend
“I don’t want to get married anymore.”
The glum statement comes from Ryder, who sits on the other end of the couch, stone faced.
I do my best not to laugh at him. “Hate to break it to you, bro, but you’re already married.”
It’s Friday night, and I’m over at the townhouse that, until a few weeks ago, I shared with Ryder and Beckett. Now, Will’s in my old room, and soon Ryder will be moving in with his new wife. Who he’s already thinking of forsaking, it appears.
I know where he’s coming from, though. From what he’s told me, Gigi’s family has gone overboard with this wedding. A wedding they’re only having because Gigi’s father, the legendary Garrett Graham, is apparently a secret softie and wants to walk his only daughter down the aisle. I don’t begrudge him that—I can totally see my dad doing the same thing with Maryanne. Not that she’s ever getting married. Maryanne’s precious cargo. I’ve already decided that when she turns sixteen, I’m going to sit her down and talk to her about the benefits of becoming a nun. I think a convent would be a really good place for her.
“Maybe it’s not too late to get a divorce,” Ryder says, his tone so hopeful that I can’t help but snort.
“You don’t want a divorce. You’re obsessed with that woman.” I shrug. “Besides, the wedding won’t be too bad. I, for one, am looking forward to getting absolutely wasted and seeing how many bridesmaids Beckett manages to hook up with.”
“I mean, you’re already banging the maid of honor, so that’s at least one he can’t score with.”
Not quite, but now that Dixon told Gigi we were dating, it’s understandable that Ryder thinks we’ve banged each other already. I suppose I could let him keep thinking it, but I also don’t want to besmirch Diana’s reputation.
“Actually, we haven’t had s*x yet,” I say. “Bullshit.”
“It’s true. We’re taking it slow.”
“Since when do you take things slow?” The question comes from Will, who pokes his head out of the kitchen. It’s just him and Ryder here, while Beckett is in Australia.
He walks in chugging a bottle of water and dressed like he’s going out. Dark jeans encase his long legs, and his blue button-down is the same light shade as his eyes.
“You off somewhere?” Ryder asks.
“Yeah, heading to the city,” Will tells him. “Actually, I’m meeting your wife and your girlfriend”—he nods toward me—“for drinks.”
Ryder narrows his eyes. “Gisele said it was girls’ night.”
“What can I tell ya? Diana invited me.” He flashes me a smug look. “Your girlfriend likes me better than you.”
“Probably,” I agree. “I annoy the fuck out of her.” Ryder snickers. “How did this happen, anyway?”
“Nah, I saw it coming,” Will says. “They made out at the pool party, and we all had to pretend it was for a dare.”
I ignore Will’s smirk and glance at Ryder. “I don’t know. It sort of happened and now I’ve got a girlfriend.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Made it exclusive pretty fast.”
“I can’t exactly not be exclusive. She’s Gigi’s best friend and I’m not looking to get murdered. But don’t read too much into it. Girlfriend is just for lack of a better term.”
“Dude, he’s downplaying it,” Will says to Ryder. “It’s serious as fuck.
He entered a dance competition with her.”
My best friend’s head swings toward me. I swallow a groan. I was hoping to keep that to myself for a while longer.
“What do you mean you entered a dance competition? What’s happened to you since you moved out? Who are you?”
“You’re asking who I am? You got married,” I shoot back. “You changed first, man. Don’t put this on me. You’re the one who ruined our friendship.”
He snickers and flips up his middle finger.
“How did you know about the dance thing?” I direct the question to Will. I’m deeply suspicious now.
“Diana announced it on Ride or Dance.”
“What the fuck is Ride or Dance?” Then it hits me, the memory of her and Kenji filming that day at the pool. “Oh no. She didn’t.”
Will grins at me.
Leaning toward the coffee table, I grab my phone. A minute later, the screen shows the latest video from Diana’s ridiculous dance account. My stomach drops when I realize she has over a hundred thousand followers. Kill me now.
The volume is on silent, so I turn it up and press play. Diana’s high, bubbly voice blares out of my phone.
“Hello, dancers! I wanted to give you a quick update on NUABC. Kenji is out. No, don’t get all dramatic. We didn’t have a huge fight. He simply decided that superyachts are more important than me. Although, who can blame him? Superyachts probably are more important than me. But yes, he’s going to be spending his summer on the Mediterranean, which means he won’t be able to compete, so I’ve had to find a new partner. And I think, judging by all the comments on our last video, a lot of you will be happy
with this partner reveal. You guessed it—I am indeed talking about Asshole Neighbor.”
Ryder snorts mid-sip of his beer.
“Oh, and you’ll love this too. Asshole Neighbor is now also Trial Boyfriend.”
“Trial?” I growl.
Will starts laughing. My friends are dicks.
“I’ve decided to give him a shot to prove that he is worthy of my love. So yes, we are dancing, and we are dating. We are dance dating. It’s going to be glorious. Our rehearsals start this weekend, so stay tuned for some Asshole Neighbor content and all the grief I anticipate him bringing me. All right, I’m off to bed. Good night, dancers.”
“She is so lame.” I groan.
“I think she’s cute,” Will says. “Why don’t you date her, then?”
“I’ll make sure to tell her you said that when we’re having drinks tonight. Anyway, yeah, I gotta go.” He glances at Ryder. “Don’t expect me back tonight. I’ll probably crash at my cousin Rob’s in Boston. I think he’s joining us for drinks.”
I shake my head. “How are you and ‘Rob’—” I make quotations.
“Why are you using air quotes? Are you implying that Rob is not real?” “—on a double date with Ryder’s wife and my girlfriend, while he and I
are here, not on a date with them?” I finish in disbelief.
“I don’t know. Some guys have all the luck.” Will gives an exaggerated shrug and saunters out of the living room.
After the front door closes, Ryder’s dark blue eyes grow sober again. “Look, about you and Diana. Be careful, okay? Like you said, she’s Gigi’s best friend.”
“Trust me, you don’t have to worry.” Literally. Because it’s fake.
“Honestly,” I insist when I note his dubious expression. “I can’t see this lasting too long.”
“No?”
“She’s not really my type. You know I prefer a more serious girl.
Someone who’s on the same page as me.” “And what page is that?”
“The long-term kind.” I shrug. “Dixon is great, but she lives in the moment. She acts on these whims, throws herself into random new projects. She’s the kind of person who’s going to, like, take off to Budapest for a year. I don’t think she’s wanting to settle down anytime soon. We’re just having fun.”
“Fair enough.” He rubs the side of his face, thoughtful. “But if you truly don’t see anything long-term with her, don’t let her get attached.”
“Nah. She’s the one insisting we keep it casual,” I lie. “The girlfriend- boyfriend label is just easier to say than ‘this is my friends with benefits,’ you know?”
He relaxes. “Got it. So it’s more of a friends-with benefits-sitch.” “Exactly.”
“But you haven’t had s*x.” He’s skeptical again.
“Not yet. But I assume we’ll be banging by like, tomorrow.” He snickers. “All right.”
“What about you?” I say, eager to change the subject. “Married life treating you okay? You’re not tired of Gisele yet?”
“Never.” His face softens anytime Gigi is mentioned. And whenever that raw, unconcealed love floods his face, it almost feels like you’re intruding. Like you’ve been given a window into an intensely personal thing that doesn’t belong to you.
But the dude simply can’t disguise his feelings for the woman, which is funny, because Luke Ryder is an expert at hiding his emotions. Since I’ve known him, I’ve never been a hundred percent sure where his head’s at. But there’s no uncertainty with Gigi. He adores her. Worships her. She’s his entire life and he would die for her. It’s telegraphed in his eyes the moment you say her name.
“But I’m really not excited about this wedding,” he admits in a pained voice.
“I’m sorry. But I got you, man. Whatever you need.”
He sighs. “Thanks, brother. I’m gonna need you to ply me with alcohol so I can forget about how many people will be there. Maybe rub my back while I puke.”
I laugh. “You’ll be fine.”
“Oh, hey. I forgot to ask you—do you want to help out at the Hockey Kings camp? It’s in a few weeks.”
“Oh, right. That’s in August. Which Harvard guy did they pick to coach with you?”
“Troy Talvo.”
“He’s good,” I say begrudgingly.
“The boys are playing a game on the last day and we need some linesmen. You in?”
“Will Garrett and Connelly be there?” “It’s their camp.”
“Then yes.”
Chuckling, he rolls his eyes at me. “That’s the only way you’ll do it?
Not out of the goodness of your heart?”
I grin at him. “I will ruthlessly pursue my own interests and I’ll never apologize for it.”
“Dude, Diana can do so much better than you.” “Ha. Like Gigi earned herself a prince.”
“You’re probably right about that. They’re both way out of our leagues.”
