Page 66 of The Girlfriend Goal
"Lies," Jared sang. "You want Lance to see you in this and forget how to form words."
"That's exactly what I don't want," I protested, but I packed the sweater anyway.
The drive to Vermont took six hours, which meant six hours of carefully orchestrated seating, with Jared and I in the back, Lance driving, and Matt controlling music. There were snack negotiations, and bathroom breaks that felt like military operations. I spent most of it pretending to sleep while actually hyperaware of every time Lance glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
"I spy with my little eye," Jared said somewhere around hour four, "something sexual tension-y."
"That's not how the game works," Matt said.
"I'm modernizing it." Jared continued cheerfully, "It's black and white and pining all over."
"I will turn this car around," Lance threatened.
"No, you won't," Jared said confidently. "You want Rachel at that cabin too badly to—ow!"
I'd elbowed him, but the damage was done. Lance's hands tightened on the steering wheel, and the rest of the drivepassed in loaded silence broken only by Matt's increasingly aggressive playlist choices.
The cabin, when we finally arrived, was not what I'd expected. ‘Cabin’ implied something rustic and quaint. This was more like a small mansion that happened to be made of logs, all soaring ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking pristine ski slopes.
"Holy shit," Jared breathed. "I've been dating beneath my tax bracket."
"We're not dating," Matt said automatically, then blushed furiously. "I mean—"
"Kitchen's through there," Lance interrupted, saving Matt from further embarrassment. "Bedrooms upstairs. Rachel and Jared can take the two on the left. They share a bathroom."
I nodded, grabbing my bag before he could offer to carry it. The last thing I needed was chivalrous Lance making this harder than it already was.
The room was beautiful, all warm wood and soft furnishings, with a view of snow-covered mountains that looked like a postcard. I could hear Lance moving around in the room next door, separated by what seemed like a dangerously thin wall.
"This is nice," Jared said, poking his head in. "Very romantic. Perfect for 'just friends' to pine through walls like you're in a Jane Austen novel."
"I'm not pining."
"Sure." He flopped on my bed. "So, what's the plan? Maintain icy distance while eye-fucking across the dinner table? Accidentally brush hands while reaching for the salt and combust from sexual tension?"
"The plan," I said firmly, "is to have a nice, normal vacation with friends. No drama, no complications."
A knock interrupted me. Lance stood in the doorway, and I tried not to notice how good he looked in his worn jeans and thermal shirt.
"Thought you might want to see the sunset from the deck," he said. "It's pretty spectacular."
I should’ve said no. Should’ve maintained the distance I desperately needed. Instead, I found myself following him onto a deck that overlooked a winter wonderland painted in shades of pink and gold by the setting sun.
"It's beautiful," I said softly.
"Yeah," Lance agreed, but he was looking at me when he said it.
This was going to be a very long week.
Chapter 28: Lance
Morning at the ski cabin found me in my natural habitat—the kitchen, coffee in hand, watching dawn break over the mountains. Years of early morning practices had turned me into that annoying person who actually enjoyed sunrise, though the view helped. What helped more was knowing Rachel slept just one wall away, close enough that I'd heard her moving around during the night.
The casual arrangement was supposed to make things simple. Instead, I found myself analyzing every interaction, cataloging the moments when her careful control slipped. Like how she'd stood beside me on the deck last night, close enough that I could smell her shampoo, both of us pretending the tension wasn't thick enough to skate on.
"You look like someone who's been up since stupid o'clock thinking too hard."
Rachel appeared in the doorway, wrapped in an oversized university hoodie that made her look unfairly cute. Her hair was messy from sleep, and I had to grip my coffee mug to keep from crossing the room and finding out if she tasted like mint toothpaste yet.
