Prologue
JULIET
“I want you to get to know Thad better so you can know and love him the same way I do.”
My best friend is watching me earnestly from across the table at our favorite restaurant; we’re here so Mia can bamboozle me into getting closer to her new boyfriend, a man she’s been dating for around five months now whom she wants me to bond.
Bond with how, you say? A weekend trip with them to some place she saw online and has been begging him to take her.
Why would I want to be the third wheel with just the two of them?
I stir the ice around my cocktail.
Mia thinks she can woo me with drinks at this posh bar we’re sitting in—a bar that serves their concoctions in funky glasses and has the most incredible desserts—will win me over.
And under normal circumstances, she’d be right. If she were, say, asking to borrow a favorite dress or a pair of my insanely expensive high heels—I would cave at the first sip of this delicious nectar I’m drinking.
I take a sip from a glass shaped by the gods—it’s shaped like a canary—filled with pink alcohol, and warms my stomach in the most scrumptious way.
But alas, Mia is not asking to borrow clothes or expensive shoes.
She’s asking the impossible.
“I don’t want to love Thad the same way you love Thad.”
I’m never going to get giddy about him during a weekend getaway, no matter how hard she tries to make me and her boyfriend buddies—I’d rather love him from afar.
First of all, his name is Thad.
Secondly, he looks like a douchebag—your stereotypical professional athlete who turns into a charmer when he’s around women, at least from what I can see.
Megawatt smile.
Flexes when anyone looks at his arms.
Long, flowing hair he wears in a man bun.
Textbook player.
Mia—who is still looking hopeful on the other side of the table—is blissfully swirling her gold drinking straw around a pretty glass containing a shiny liquid with edible gold glitter floating on the surface.
Eventually she sighs. “Juliet. I love you, you know I do. And I also love Thad.” I cringe again at the sound of his name while she continues. “You have got to start trying—he’s getting a complex and beginning to think you don’t like him.”
I don’t like him.
At all.
And why do I care that a grown man is getting a complex because he and I are not BFF’s? It’s not my job to make him feel secure.
This is a him problem, not a Juliet problem.
“Why does he care if I like him or not?” Does he seriously expect all women to drop at his feet to worship him because he’s good-looking, successful, and famous? Well, let me tell you something: I’m not signing up to be the Vice-President of his Fan Club anytime soon, even though my best friend is the President and currently recruiting new members.
No, thank you, sir.
“He cares because you’re my best friend and he wants you to like him.” This time, she delivers her sentence with an eye roll, laying on the sarcasm like syrup on waffles. “That’s why we’re going on this quick trip. It’ll be the best way to bond instead of staying in the city with all the distractions.”
I’m being difficult and we both know it.
To be honest I didn’t actually think I was giving her boyfriend an ‘I don’t care for you’ vibe when I was around him—I legitimately thought I was being pleasant, faking the good times and laughter for the sake of my best friend while all along finding the dude suspect.
Guess I’m not as good an actress as I thought I was.
“Mia—you know I don’t want to third wheel it on a vacation with the two of you.” That would be torture. “Plus, I don’t have the money to go galivant to some expensive resort for the weekend.” I cross my arms to punctuate my sentence, daring her to argue about my financial situation.
I will not be peer pressured into a vacation with a man I don’t want to go with, although a piña colada does sound rather tasty.
“You won’t be third wheeling it, and it would be his treat. All expenses paid.”
Free trip?
My ears twitch.
Dammit. I would kill for an all-expenses paid trip.
Mia knows I’m a sucker for a bargain and obviously plans to exploit the fact.
“So now he’s trying to bribe me?”
She laughs. “I wouldn’t use the word bribe; I would use the word coax. You’re like an animal at the Humane Society that needs to be given treats so when an arm reaches into your cage, you don’t gnaw it off.”
I turn my nose up at the comparison. “I object at being equated to an animal in a shelter, but also—accurate.” I lean forward. “Tell me more about how I won’t be the third wheel. How is that possible?”