“If I’ve learned anything from Hallmark movies, it’s that no woman likes a persistent man when she tells him no. So if Bree truly does only see you as a brother by the time this is all over, you’re going to have to let her go and move on. Luckily, since you’ll only be making moves in the name of the contract, you’ll be able to go back to normal in the end without burning any bridges if she doesn’t seem into you.”
Yeah, normal. Unfortunately, there’s a nagging feeling inside me that says I won’t be able to go back to normal. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand by after all of this and watch her date other guys again, or be near her and never touch. It’s torture. I don’t want to have to think about what I’ll do if she doesn’t want a relationship with me just yet.
“What’s your first public date with Bree going to be?” Jamal asks, sitting forward now that he doesn’t think Lawrence’s idea is complete trash.
I get out my phone and look at the calendar Nicole keeps updated for me. “Wednesday we have to film the commercial. Oh, and by the way, it is a complete breach of contract for me to tell you guys we’re going to be in a fake relationship, but I really needed help.” They all agree to keep their mouths shut about it. “So yeah, not really a date, but we do have to pretend to be a couple in front of the crew that day.”
“That’s perfect,” says Derek from where he’s now raiding my fridge for the third time. “That’ll be a good place to start exploring some light physical touch. See if any sparks start flying.”
My stomach tightens at the words physical touch, and I immediately feel like a twelve-year-old scared to go on his first date. Even worse, I’m getting advice from possibly the most unqualified instructors. “What counts as light?”
Derek peeks over the fridge door and levels me with a gross smirk. “Depends on the woman.”
I grimace. “Okay, never mind. I don’t want to hear it.”
Lawrence shakes his head at Derek. “I bet your mama’s so proud of how you turned out.”
“Holding hands!” Jamal shouts like he’s on The Price is Right and is tossing out his final bid.
“Hand-holding is good.” Lawrence jots it down next to number one.
“Wink at her,” Derek says while casually leaning back against the counter and peeling a banana.
I don’t know about this one. Sounds kind of douchebaggy. “What do you mean? Just like wink randomly? I don’t think I’m a winker.”
“Yeah, you know, say something sexy first, and then just…” He gives me the most suave wink I’ve ever seen. I try to mirror it back at him and he grimaces. “Work on it.”
“Forget his weird winking. You need to brush a stray hair away,” says Price.
I look at him. “Expound.”
“Don’t you watch movies? You gotta wait until a piece of her hair falls into her face and then use your fingers to brush it back from her temple. Here, watch.” He leans forward and demonstrates on me, looking deep into my eyes then slowly brushing an imaginary lock of hair behind my ear.
“Damn,” says Lawrence. “I felt that all the way over here.”
I point at the board. “Write it down.”
He obeys, and we all get to work brainstorming the most romantic ideas we can think of, debating back and forth about what level of physical touch belongs to which week and whether a food fight would actually be as sexy in real life as it always plays out in the movies. There’s also a sketchy idea of pretending the power gets knocked out so I have to fill the room with candles. I have no idea how I would make that one happen.
Finally, after our list is full, Lawrence writes “first real make-out” for item number 20. Derek wanted to write a different word on that line, but I wouldn’t let him. That’s not what this is about for me. I’m not trying to work my way into Bree’s bed; I’m trying to show her that I want a relationship with her. I want to be committed to her in a way I’ve never been with anyone else.