by Carla Ward

“So, how did you two meet?”

Julie Wilson blotted her mouth with a napkin, trying not to panic at her mother’s question. Turning to look at her good friend, Ryan Curtis, seated beside her at the small dining table in her apartment, Julie silently pleaded for an assist. When she’d asked Ryan to help her endure her parents’ unexpected visit this evening by pretending to be her boyfriend, she hadn’t thought about their backstory.

But Ryan didn’t miss a beat.

“We met at work, in the break room. She was cleaning up the remnants of an exploded frozen burrito.” Ryan casually wrapped an arm around Julie’s shoulders, sending a delightful tingle down her spine. “Since she was new, she didn’t know that ancient microwave causes nuclear fission when used at full power.”

Her mother and father chuckled.

This was their true origin story. Julie jumped in, as if they’d told the details of their meet-cute dozens of times.

“After he helped me clean up,” she explained, “he treated me to lunch at the deli down the block. We’ve been frien—I’m mean together ever since.”

Thankfully, her parents didn’t notice her slip up.

Julie’s father skewered more lasagna with his fork. “How long have you been together, then?”

Yet another question she’d failed to anticipate.

Ryan didn’t flinch. “Three months.”

Again, he used the truth about their friendship to answer.

She couldn’t help but smile. This was going surprisingly well.

When her parents had called a few hours ago to say they were in town for the night—they were flying out of the nearby airport in the morning for a last-minute getaway—Julie reluctantly agreed to have them over for dinner. But panic soon set in as she thought about the inevitable lecture her mother would give her about finding Mr. Right and settling down.

Usually, Julie avoided these conversations by deflecting her mother’s texts or ignoring her calls, but those tactics didn’t work face-to-face. So she’d conspired with Ryan to make tonight more bearable, figuring everything could be set to rights by texting her mother next week that the relationship had ended.

Easy peasy.

Her mother reached for more French bread. “So, Ryan, are you a city mouse or a relocated country mouse like Julie?”

“City mouse.” Ryan removed his arm from Julie’s shoulders and reached for his water glass. “Maybe we can come visit you sometime. The way Julie raves about her hometown, I feel like I’ve been missing out living in the city all my life.”

“Great idea.” Julie’s father looked pleased. “We’d love to have you stay with us.”

Julie turned to stare at Ryan. Why was he talking about visiting her hometown? And why did that idea make her insides flutter?

“So, Ryan,” her mother began, “what does your family think of our Julie?”

“They adore her,” he said.

Julie leaned into Ryan and whispered, “Really?”

“Really,” he whispered back.

Julie’s face grew warm. She’d met Ryan’s family last month when they’d attended Ryan’s cousin’s wedding. Since they’d gone as friends, it never occurred to her that his family discussed what they thought of her afterward. The idea that they’d given her a good review made her ridiculously happy.

The conversation flowed easily for the next hour. By the time Julie served a store-bought tiramisu for dessert, she’d almost started to believe she really was Ryan’s girlfriend.

Had their performance uncovered feelings she’d had all along?

“Everything was delicious,” her mother said, pushing back her chair. “Thank you two so much for a wonderful meal.”

“And wonderful company.” Her father rose from his chair. “Ryan, our daughter is lucky to have met you. Not only do you seem like an upstanding man, but you bake one heckuva lasagna.” He extended his hand. “It’s nice knowing she’ll have decent meals from now on.”

Ryan shook with him. “It’s nice having someone to cook for.”

When Julie walked her parents to the door and hugged them goodbye, her mother whispered in her ear, “Hold on to him.”

“I will,” Julie said. She wasn’t improvising now. Her words were a heartfelt promise.

After her parents left, Julie found Ryan in the kitchen, putting away leftovers.

“That went well,” she said. “You’re quite an actor.”

Ryan closed the fridge and turned to face her, his expression solemn. “No, I’m not.”

“But you are. So good, in fact, I’m starting to think maybe we should date for real.”

“Really?” He took her hand. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“You thought the same thing?”

“Julie, for me, tonight was real. I didn’t want it to end.”

His words touched her, and her pulse quickened. “Me either.”

He grinned. “What do you say we keep this going?”

Julie squeezed his hand. “I say ‘yes.’”