Page 65 of The Girlfriend Goal
"I have plenty to do here," I lied. "Internship prep, getting ahead on—"
"Bullshit," he interrupted. "You're already ahead on everything. You're just scared."
"I'm not scared," I protested, even though he was absolutely right. The thought of spending multiple days in close quarters with Lance, pretending we were just friends with benefits, terrified me. Our careful boundaries worked because we could retreat to our separate spaces. A ski cabin offered no such escape.
"Then prove it," he challenged. "Come with us. Separate rooms, no pressure. And look, I don't want you spending break alone," he said quietly, and the sincerity in his voice made my chest ache. "That's all this is. Friends looking out for each other."
Friends. That word was starting to feel like a lie we both desperately wanted to believe.
Jared chose that moment to burst through the door, because privacy was a foreign concept to him. "Oh good, you're both here. I need opinions on ski outfits because apparently Matthew thinks neon is 'too much' for the slopes."
"It's a safety hazard," Matt said, following him in. "You'll blind people."
"I'll look fabulous," Jared countered. "Rachel, tell him I'll look fabulous."
"You always look fabulous," I said automatically, then noticed how Matt's face softened at my words, like he agreed but couldn't say it out loud.
"See?" Jared preened. "This is why you're my best friend. You appreciate vision." He paused, looking between Lance and me. "Wait, why do you two look serious? Are we interrupting something? Were you about to hook up? Because we can leave."
"We're not—" I started at the same time Lance said, "She won't come to Vermont."
Jared gasped dramatically. "Rachel Fox, you are not abandoning me to deal with these hockey heathens alone."
"You literally just invited yourself to their cabin," I pointed out.
"Semantics." He plopped down beside me, putting on his most persuasive expression. "Come on, Rachel. When's the next time we'll get a free ski vacation? Plus, I need you there for emotional support when Matthew inevitably tries to teach me to ski and I end up face-first in a snowbank."
"I would never let you face-plant," Matt protested, looking genuinely offended. "I'd catch you."
The soft sincerity in his voice made Jared blush, and I filed that away for later interrogation. But their obvious attraction gave me an idea.
"Fine," I heard myself saying. "I'll come, but I have conditions."
Lance's face lit up like I'd just agreed to marry him, and I had to look away from the intensity of his joy.
"Whatever you want," he said quickly.
"Separate rooms," I said firmly. "No weird couple stuff. This is just friends hanging out."
"Of course," Lance agreed, though something flickered in his eyes.
"And Jared and I get our own bathroom," I added, because I'd lived with boys before and knew better.
"Deal," Matt said. "The cabin has like four bathrooms anyway."
"Your family has a cabin with four bathrooms?" Jared asked, momentarily distracted from ski outfit planning.
Matt shrugged. "My dad overcompensates for emotional absence with real estate."
An awkward silence fell as we all processed that revelation. Then Jared clapped his hands together.
"Well, this is going to be the best dysfunctional family vacation ever. I'll start packing. Rachel, you'll need layers. Lots of layers. Vermont is cold and these hockey boys probably keep the thermostat at arctic temperatures because they're part polar bear."
The next few days passed in a blur of preparation and second-guessing. I packed and repacked, debating every itemlike it held the key to maintaining professional distance from Lance. Jared's running commentary on my wardrobe choices didn't help.
"You cannot bring that," he said, holding up my rattiest old t-shirt. "It's a crime against fashion." He tossed it aside and pulled out a soft sweater I'd forgotten I owned. "Now this says 'I'm casually sexy without trying.'"
"I don't want to be casually sexy."
