From Best Friend To Fiancé novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Let's Ruin A Wedding.

I didn’t knock on the door, I pounded.

Roman’s door swung open a few seconds later, revealing him in nothing but a pair of blindingly white Calvin Klein boxer briefs and sleep-tousled hair.

I wasn't fazed. Roman usually sleeps naked.

“Nice boxers. Very... spiritual monk energy you have going on,” I said, breezing inside.

Roman rubbed his eyes, “It’s one in the morning. Did you set something on fire again?”

I kicked the door shut behind me, my heel finally giving up and snapping clean off. “Just my life.”

Roman sighed and knelt, without a word, helping me out of my shoes as usual.

“Roman, I did something horrible.”

Roman's face morphs into one of seriousness. He briskly walks to the windows, looks both ways then snaps them shut and proceeds to do that to all the windows.

“How bad is it? Do I need to hide a body or bail you out of jail? Be honest.” He said.

“My sister’s getting married,” I said, breathless.

“I'm lost.”

“To Dean Archer.”

Roman frowned. “Wait, the Dean Archer?”

I nod.

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

“She told me like she was announcing she made partner at Vogue. In freaking pastel.”

Roman pulled me into a hug. “I'm so sorry, love. I'll make popcorn and ice-cream. We'll watch Scream and you can call in sick at the office tomorrow.” He suggested.

I spun dramatically, dizzying myself. Roman reached to steady me instinctively, one hand at my waist.

“Savannah—careful. Vertigo?”

I collapsed to my knees in the middle of his kitchen, clapped my hands together like I was begging for a miracle.

“Please don’t kill me. I lied. I did a very, very bad thing.”

Roman squinted. “What did you do?”

“Say you forgive me first.”

“Savannah.”

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

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

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

Roman blinked. “You what?”

“She was smug and shiny and waving her invitation card like 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, exhaled, and said, “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.”

He leaned against the counter. “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. “You could still have models. Just... add me to the mix.”

He gave me a look. “Savannah.”

“Roman.”

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

“You’re the only one they know.”

“That’s fair.”

“The more I think about this, the more ridiculous it sounds,” he said, finally walking to 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.

“Okay, okay, counteroffer—I give you my next paycheck. Just the one. And maybe my soul.”

Roman snorted. “Love, your paycheck wouldn’t 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. “See? I’m grateful. Please, Roman… I can't survive one week in New Hope without you by my side. I need you with me to fight my evil sister.”

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

“I love you.” I squealed.

Roman sighed. “When do we leave for New Hope?”

“In two weeks.”

He ran a hand through his messy hair. “Great. Let’s ruin a wedding.”

I practically threw myself into his arms, wrapping my arms and legs around him like a koala.

“Thank you! I knew you would agree!”

“Yeah, don't get too excited.”

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