From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 2

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time Velvet Shadows by Serene L. Arden**

**Chapter 2: Let’s Ruin A Wedding.**

I didn’t merely knock on the door; I pounded on it with all the urgency of a storm.

Moments later, Roman’s door swung open, and there he stood, clad only in a pair of dazzlingly white Calvin Klein boxer briefs, his tousled hair a testament to his deep slumber.

I couldn’t help but smirk. This was Roman, after all—he often preferred the freedom of nudity while sleeping.

“Nice boxers. Very… spiritual monk energy you’ve got going on,” I quipped, breezing past him and into the warmth of his apartment.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he groaned, “It’s one in the morning. Did you set something on fire again?”

With a swift kick, I shut the door behind me, only to feel the heel of my shoe snap off in the process. “Just my life,” I muttered, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Roman sighed, his expression shifting from sleepy annoyance to concern as he knelt down to help me with my shoes, as he always did without a word of complaint.

“Roman, I did something horrible,” I confessed, my voice trembling slightly.

His face transformed, seriousness replacing the casual demeanor. He moved quickly to the windows, peeking out before shutting them tight, as if we were plotting something illicit.

“How bad is it? Do I need to hide a body or bail you out of jail? Be honest,” he urged, his tone both teasing and alarmed.

“My sister’s getting married,” I said, breathless, the weight of my words hanging in the air.

“I’m lost,” he replied, brow furrowing in confusion.

“To Dean Archer,” I added, my heart racing.

Roman’s frown deepened. “Wait, the Dean Archer?”

I nodded, feeling the gravity of the situation settle over us like a heavy blanket.

He paused, his mind racing. “Shit. Can she do that? Isn’t there a code against that?”

“She told me as if she were announcing a partnership at Vogue. In freaking pastel,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

Roman pulled me into a comforting embrace, his warmth wrapping around me like a shield. “I’m so sorry, love. I’ll make popcorn and ice cream. We can watch Scream, and you can call in sick at the office tomorrow,” he suggested, his voice soothing.

I spun around dramatically, feeling a rush of dizziness as Roman instinctively reached out to steady me, his hand resting firmly at my waist.

“Savannah—careful. Vertigo?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

I dropped to my knees in the middle of his kitchen, clasping my hands together as if begging for mercy. “Please don’t kill me. I lied. I did a very, very bad thing.”

Roman squinted, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. “What did you do?”

“Say you forgive me first,” I insisted, my heart racing.

“Savannah.”

“Say it, Roman. Or I’m never getting up.”

He groaned, exasperated. “Fine. I forgive you. Now stand up before I have to carry you.”

I stood, brushing myself off, and blurted out, “I told Chloe we’re engaged.”

Roman blinked, his eyes wide in disbelief. “You what?”

“She was so smug and shiny, waving her invitation card like it was a disco ball, and I panicked. I told her we’ve been secretly in love this whole time.”

He rubbed a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “You showed up here at midnight to ask me to be your fake fiancé because you lied to your entire family to one-up your sister?”

“Yes,” I replied, feeling the absurdity of it all wash over me.

He leaned against the counter, shaking his head in disbelief. “I was supposed to be in Tuscany next week. There are hot models, clubs, parties, cocktails, poolside massages… Magnificent D cups… You know what happens in Tuscany.”

I batted my lashes, trying to lighten the mood. “You could still have models. Just… add me to the mix.”

He shot me a look that was both incredulous and amused. “Savannah.”

“Roman.”

“You couldn’t have said… like, Jake from accounting?”

“Everyone knows you. You’re the only one they know.”

“That’s fair,” he conceded, a hint of a smile creeping onto his lips.

“The more I think about this, the more ridiculous it sounds,” he said, finally walking toward the kitchen. “You fake-engaged me to your entire family, to outdo your sister who’s marrying your ex, and now we’re driving to New Hope to pull off this epic lie?”

I nodded, my resolve firm.

“Okay, okay, counteroffer—I give you my next paycheck. Just the one. And maybe my soul,” he said, half-joking, half-serious.

Roman snorted, shaking his head. “Love, your paycheck wouldn’t even cover my shoelaces. I bought you a winter coat last Christmas that cost six times your rent.”

“And I love that coat,” I said sweetly, a grin spreading across my face. “See? I’m grateful. Please, Roman… I can’t survive this sister.”

He watched me, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend.”

“I love you,” I squealed, feeling a rush of affection.

Roman sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “When do we leave for New Hope?”

“In two weeks,” I replied, a mix of excitement and dread bubbling inside me.

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