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All I Ever Wanted Was The Truth- I

Summary: Stanford was the dream. Your dream. And that’s exactly what it has become. You have a great life, a good job, three semesters left, and a best friend in the unlikely form of Conrad Fisher. The two of you are still trapped in love with people you can’t have, so when he asks you to spend the summer with him in Cousins while the love of his life marries his brother? The obvious answer is yes. What could you possibly have to lose?

Pairing: Conrad Fisher x Reader

Trope: Fake Dating

Word Count: 9.3k

Masterlist My Masterlist

Moving all the way to California on a whim after getting dumped by your high school boyfriend and deciding at 3 am that you were going to apply to a school across the country wasn’t your smartest decision, you could at least admit that.

Sure, Stanford has always been on your radar. It is for anyone who dreams of going to a big school with a big names list of schools to apply to, but it’s called a dream school for a reason. You had chosen to go to your state school for your bachelor’s, claiming that it was smarter financially, but the real reason being you were stupidly in love with someone who wanted to stay at home and work for his dad.

Which was fine. You were totally fine with going to med school way closer to home if it meant that you could stay in your six year old relationship with Jake because you loved him.

You loved him.

He apparently loved the daughter of his father’s oldest client a little bit more because practically the minute you stepped off the stage, he was clearing out your apartment with some dragged out bullshit excuse about how he never got to find himself after high school and that the two of you needed to branch out to see if you were really meant to be together.

Two weeks later, he’s hard launching his new girlfriend on a boat off the coast of Florida still wearing the watch you bought him while you were crying over his favorite song coming up on your shuffled playlist.

You had sent out the application fifteen minutes later.

Nearly three years later and about $60,000 in the hole, you could admit to yourself that the decision had been a little irrational. Do you regret it?

Absolutely not.

You have great grades. An internship that actually interests you. A new apartment that doesn’t smell like stale cigarettes or make strange noises when you step on certain spots on the floor. Two roommates who always paid their rent on time, cleaned up after themselves, and were actually non-creepy enough that you have slowly devolved into a trio of sorts.

Agnes had been in your original shared apartment when you had moved out to California, answering a random flyer for a request for a fourth roommate. The apartment was cheap enough that you could afford it, but you quickly found out that your luck had run out after that.

The other roommates were messy. Like leaving pizza boxes out, random bottles all over the floor, toothpaste in the sink messy. The kind of mess that you weren’t quite sure how they hadn’t attracted any bugs in your stay. Lexi always paid her portion of the rent four days late at the earliest. Simon had his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s best friend over way too many late nights that you wanted to sue whoever thought the headphones you had shoved over your ears were actually noise cancelling.

It was a nightmare.

An actual living, breathing nightmare that you couldn’t wait to wake up from.

So, when Agnes told you she was moving out and her and her new roommate were looking for a third, you decided right then and there you didn’t care what organ you needed to sell on the black market, you were getting the hell out of that apartment.

Luckily for you, the rent came out to just about the same as what you were paying (the perks of moving in with two adults who have good credit and actual jobs) and you no longer had to deal with the constant thumping against your bedroom wall at hours of the night you aren’t sure have actually been invented yet.

Enter Conrad Fisher, somehow your knight in shining armor before the two of you had officially even met. A role that you quickly learned he had practically been born to play throughout the twisted tales of him and his brother being in love with the same girl.

Two kids with dead moms in love with someone who you both knew wasn’t going to love you back. What could make for a better recipe for best friends?

While Agnes was insistent upon nights out and trying to drag you two out of what she had deemed the apartment was “Yearnville: Population Two”, both of you were perfectly content with just trading stories at the bar or bickering about movies while Agnes was passed out in the cab between you.

Being friends with Conrad was incredibly easy.

So easy that you hadn’t even realized how close the two of you had become until you were on the verge of tears because you had a nasty customer at the store you worked at and the second you stepped out of the building, his phone was already ringing.

You couldn’t remember a single person that you knew you could call after any minor inconvenience to make you feel better. Even Jake, who despite his best attempts never could figure out what the right thing to do was when you were crying.

And somehow, you can’t remember a time where Conrad’s phone has even rung more than three times before his voice comes through on the other line with an offer to go to some museum or watch some dumb movie.

The two of you were so entwined with each other that you can finally understand why in movies people make such a big deal about their best friend moving away or getting a new job. You’re not sure how you survived in your life without someone being in your corner simply because it’s you asking.

You swear you could tell by the way he breathes how he is feeling, and you know he feels the exact same way. Judging by the way a bag of Goldfish crackers shows up on your bed before every exam you take or how he learned how to make a terrible lasagna after your ex-boyfriend had commented under your latest Instagram post, you’re not sure anyone has ever truly understood you without you even having to say a word like he does.

So, when you unlock the door after the most ridiculous French class of your life, ready to launch into a ridiculous story of how some guy had accidentally asked if he could lick a toilet seat to find him standing by the kitchen island flipping a piece of paper in his hand, you know immediately that something is undeniably wrong.

There’s no way for you to make out what the paper says before you close in the distance, fingers digging into the front pocket of your bag as you slide into the stool across from where he stands and place a shiny penny heads up on the tile.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He offers you a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach the corners of his eyes as he reaches out his finger and taps the coin on the counter, silently telling you to keep it. The first time he had done it, you had received your yearly Christmas card from Jake’s mom, telling you how much she missed you.

The two of you have been passing back and forth the same line ever since.

The paper isn’t really a piece of paper, but thicker. More like what your dad had sent your graduation announcements on in high school or-

The envelope on the counter has his name in smooth, cursive writing with a heavy blue wax seal embedded on the back. There are like five stamps in the corner, one of them a bald eagle and the others differing American symbols after the first stamp, which houses a picture of pretty blue flowers in the corner.

Like someone had been trying to send out an aesthetic card before they realized how heavy their envelope truly was.

When Conrad had returned after his mom’s memorial, he had told you that Jeremiah had proposed to Belly. Everyone, including yourself if you’re being honest, had warned them that it was a really bad idea. A horrible idea, considering they were barely adults and one of them was under threat of having to repeat their senior year, but who were you to judge? You hardly knew them apart from the stories Conrad had told you.

Both of you had thought that with everyone being so against the wedding, the two of them would reconsider. That if they realized nobody thought it was a good idea, they would sit back and ask themselves why.

Instead, it’s been two weeks and the girl who your best friend has been in love with for nearly his entire life has sent him a wedding invitation.

It had been hard enough to convince him to go back for the memorial. You couldn’t blame him for not wanting to return to the place where he had seemingly lost everything.

His mom.

His brother.

His girl.

Since you had moved out to California, you had gone back home once for your dad’s Christmas party before both of you decided that he would just have to come visit you for the holidays instead. Walking through the same town where everyone knew you as the other half of someone else wasn’t exactly easy when he still lives there.

If there was anyone who understood how hard it was to go home, it was you.

But you also knew how much it would eat him up inside to not be there for the memorial.

It took you weeks to convince him, and he narrowly missed it still trying to convince you that it was the wrong idea. You reminded him that this wasn’t about him. It was about his mom, and this was for her. He could struggle through the ceremony and then hop on a plane the next morning to come home without anything going horrifically wrong.

You hadn’t expected an engagement announcement at dinner because how could you?

He was on a plane back that night, you surprising him at the airport despite him telling you that it was perfectly fine and he would see you in the morning. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t checking his location the entire night, trying to make sure he didn’t just drive his rental car off of a bridge.

You’re not sure how he was even standing up right when he caught your eye. You had been torn up for months after seeing Jake with someone else. Even more so as time went on and you receive the occasional call to check up on you, the delusion in both of your minds heavy as you think this is just you two branching before you come back together.

You couldn’t imagine the love of your life being in love with your sister.

You’d have run your car off a bridge.

He doesn’t look as lost now, the look on his face more confused than hurt as his eyes run over the words for the hundredth time. He’s not going to stop looking at it until he has the whole thing memorized because that’s how his brain works.

He loves to internalize everything until he can’t anymore.

You pluck the paper out of his hand, eyes roaming over the paper now in front of you. It’s not actually a wedding invite, much to your surprise, but something that somehow makes you feel worse.

A formal invitation to be Jeremiah’s best man.

“You don’t have to go.”

You catch his eye again, tossing the invitation down on the counter like it’s just another piece of junk mail being sent to the wrong address. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he would have been conflicted if it had been an invitation sitting in his hand, but this?

A somewhat makeshift olive branch that is seemingly extended just at the right time when it feels like the entire world is against Jeremiah and Belly getting married?

He’s going to think he has to go. You can tell by the look on his face that he is already trying to wrap his mind around venturing back out onto the same beach where that is seemingly set out on breaking his heart in every way imaginable.

“He’s my brother,” He says like you need the reminder, pinching the bridge of his nose to let out a deep breath.

“Literally nobody thinks this is a good idea,” You point out, resting your elbow on the counter so you can rest your chin on your hand. “Like actually nobody. You think you can handle being the entire wedding party and the only guest?”

He drops his head back, rubbing both of his hands over his face before he drops his attention back to you with a look that you know all too well.

As much as this wedding might make him want to die inside, he’s still the older brother.

Being Jeremiah’s brother comes first.

Always.

Even if it means he is the only person standing with them to witness them throwing their lives away at each other, he’s going to do it because that’s his younger brother. The very person that he was put on the planet to look out for.

“Are you honestly going to be able to watch him marry her?”

The words come out as gently as you can possibly make them. You know he doesn’t need the reminder, but you’ve got to give him one anyway because once he has his mind set, there isn’t going to be any changing it.

You can see it flicker over his face, the thought springing back to the front of his mind that this isn’t just a case of his brother running off and marrying his college girlfriend on a whim. This is Jeremiah marrying Belly.

Conrad’s Belly.

The only person he has ever been in love with. The girl he has never been able to get over.

As noble as it may be for him to fly out there to play hero for his brother, he needs to remember that it’s not just Jeremiah who will be saying ‘I do’.

You’re not sure you would ever be able to stomach your ex marrying anyone, much less a family member.

“I can’t let them have nobody there,” He replies in a quiet tone. “My mom-”

His face scrunches up for a moment, and you’re damn near positive he’s going to cry. Your heart aches for him because you get it. You know why he feels like he has to do this.

You just wish he didn’t.

“She would be there. I can’t let him do it alone.”

And that’s that. He’s made his decision, so the only thing you can really do is be there for him.

You hop up out of your chair, grabbing the invitation off of the counter and moving around the counter to tack it on the fridge with a magnet. Front and center, like a beacon from a lighthouse that you’re sure is going to blind you for the next week.

“You’re a better brother than me, Connie,” You bump your hip against his as you step back to admire your handiwork. “And it’s black tie? The hits just keep on coming.”

That earns you a chuckle, and judging by the eye roll he gives you, you have successfully dragged him out of mopey boy land and back into reality where the only problem he has until he leaves is the fact that one of his roommates beat him out for an internship and the other definitely plans on making fun of his suit when the pictures inevitably end up on Instagram.

“I don’t know how black tie an outdoor wedding can be in August, but-”

“Okay, if you end up in one of those little kid suits with the shorts and I don’t at the very least get a FaceTime,” You put your finger up in warning. “I will sue you for everything you’re worth, Fisher.”

You have to giggle to yourself at the thought, especially when you watch his face scrunch up as he tries to pick himself in the ensemble that has already captivated your mind.

“Oh my god, you could be the ring bearer!” You exclaim, clapping your hands together like this is your greatest idea of all time. “We could get you one of those little embroidered pillows and you wouldn’t have time to think about anything except how ridiculous you look-”

The rest of the taunt dies in your throat when you look up to find him giving you a strange look, his eyebrows pushed together like he is seeing you for the first time.

Or like the time neither he nor Agnes decided to tell you that you had gotten chia seeds all over your cheek right before a presentation.

You start wiping at your face, glaring at him and muttering how ridiculous they are for never telling you these kinds of things when his fingers reach out and pull your wrist down to your side before letting go.

“You should come with me.”

“Pardon?”

You know what he said. You heard him say it, but for some reason you’re not entirely sure why he would say that. He tried to keep his lives very separate from each other.

He needed to keep them separate.

It was the only way he could actually live his life without having a panic attack every day. He finally had something that was just his. Something that didn’t belong to his dad or his mom. An apartment. Friends. A life.

Going to Cousins means you would actually witness his emotional turmoil rather than having to hear about it afterwards on the phone.

“You should come,” He breathes out like he is scared he won’t be able to get the words out if he takes a moment to think. “To the wedding. To Cousins. I think you being there is the only way I’ll make it out alive.”

You almost want to laugh at the idea, but one look tells you that he is completely serious. This is his worst nightmare coming true, nobody has to tell you that. Every single piece of this is out of his control, and it’s not going to get any better once he is out there in the belly of the beast for lack of better words.

“Okay.”

The answer tumbles out of your mouth without much thought because it’s the easiest one you’ll probably ever give. He’s your best friend. He’s been there through pretty much all of the worst parts of your life since he breezed his way in and he has never really asked for anything in return.

Surely, you can find it in yourself to sit with him through the worst day of his life.

“You don’t have to if-”

“Oh no, my rich friend has invited me to his family beach house in a nice summer town with pretty flowers and I’m sure a huge selection of booze,” You shut him down immediately when you notice he thinks he is forcing you into something you don’t want to do. “Talk about my worst nightmare. Who would ever want to do that? You’re really twisting my arm, Fisher.”

The smile you’ve been fighting for returns to his face, shaking his head like he has ever been able to find himself unamused by your sarcasm. You roll your eyes at him with a wink, leaning back against the counters and crossing your arms.

“When do we leave?”

Even with having three days to pack, you somehow managed to bring only one of your sandals and your laptop charger without the actual laptop itself. That leads to your current situation of wearing Conrad’s flip flops which are too big for you and have you constantly tripping anytime you try to go up or down the stairs in the past 20 hours since you arrived at the house.

You practically break your neck once again as you stumble down the back steps and slam into the door frame, hands reaching out and grabbing the wall before you are kicking the shoes off of your feet with a frustrated yell.

“Okay, I’m over it!” You call out, reaching down and picking the shoes up in your hand. “Where the hell are your keys? I can’t-”

In every single embarrassing moment of your life as far back as you can remember, you have never once wanted the earth to open you up and swallow you whole. Not when you fell walking up the steps of your 8th grade orchestra performance.

Not when you threw up all over both of your friends because you had one too many shots and everything smelled like the broccoli you had with your dinner for two days.

But stepping into the kitchen and watching not one but two heads flying up from the couch in the room next door to realize that not only do you have company, but the company is a) the other owner of this house and b) you currently look like you got in a fight with a raccoon and lost makes you wish that you were suddenly below the terrain never to be seen again.

“I told you you don’t need to wear shoes in the-”

Conrad appears through the other side of the kitchen, amusement evident on his face as he sees you standing there holding the shoes he loaned you in your hand before the look flickers to something else when he notices the panicked look on your face.

He follows your eyes over to the couch where the two intruders you have already been locked in a staredown with are currently scrambling to get up.

“Hey, um-”

“Hi.”

Jeremiah and Belly speak at the same time, awkwardness practically jumping out of their throats as their eyes dart between the two of you. Conrad just gives them a slight nod, pressing his lips together in a look that you aren’t too fond of.

He obviously wasn't planning on them being here until next week. He’s had no time to get his head in the game.

“We didn’t see the car outside, otherwise we-” Jeremiah coughs mid sentence, trying to break up the nervousness in his voice. “I would’ve called. We didn’t know you were coming in this early.”

It’s the same tone you had heard when Conrad had called him from the airport, fresh off the two of you bickering when he had gone behind your back and upped your seat to first class on the notion that someone needed to pay for the pain and suffering you were about to witness, so why not him?

The two of them speak to each other like the other is a monster in their closet. Nervous that one wrong move and the other is going to bite.

“I parked around the side to bring the bags in and everything,” Conrad’s voice trails off, waving his hand toward the point in the yard where he had parked the car yesterday. “I noticed some things in December that needed some work, so I thought we would come out before Dad sent over that same idiot who locked the frog in the pool filter.”

You can’t help but glance at Belly at the reminder of Conrad’s time in town over the holidays. He had texted you freaking out the moment he arrived, terrified that he was somehow going to fuck everything up.

Something had happened over Christmas. Even though he didn’t think so. Or maybe he just didn’t want to, but you see the flicker of remembrance wash across her face at the reminder.

The same can’t be said for the other Fisher, who currently looks like he too wants the earth to swallow him whole.

Interesting.

Silence can only take up the space for so long before it turns into someone thinking way too hard about things they shouldn’t. You watch Jeremiah’s eyes dance between his fiance’s face and his brother’s, a weird look flashing through his eyes that jerks you out of whatever trance you had been in.

Maybe it’s the way the two of them avoid eye contact, both sets of cheeks flushing slightly anytime they get close enough. You almost feel bad for both of them, wanting to offer the girl in front of you a reassuring smile to tell her it’s okay to not be sure of what to do, but you're not here for her right now.

Your concern is getting Conrad back to California in one piece with as little drama or fighting with his brother as possible. Judging by the look his younger brother is giving him, you are already teetering on the edge of an accusation that neither one of them looks like they can fight.

So, you do the first thing that pops into your mind, stepping forward with the flip flops still dangling from your fingers as you wave your hand at the two you haven’t actually met in person yet.

“Sorry for the staring, I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone but this freak down here,” You tell them after giving them your name.

Belly forces a smile at your introduction, the awkwardness of the moment still seeping in at the seams.

“You’re the roommate, right?” Jeremiah asks, motioning his hand in the air like he is trying to grab at the memory of Conrad mentioning you. “The one with the turtle.”

Oh, he is so lucky you love him.

You give your friend a death glare over your shoulder at the mention of Benjamin, the turtle you had thought you were saving from the flea market before he had somehow managed to escape his cage and find himself swimming in your toilet.

You had a hard enough time believing that he had mentioned you to his brother at all, the two of them talking on the rarest of occasions, but this? Oh, you were going to kill him.

All he can do is give you a smile that is almost a grimace, whispering a sorry as he tries to hold down the laugh in his throat at the reminder of you screaming at the top of your lungs because you had just wanted to go pee at 2am but instead found your pet doing laps like he owned the place.

“That would be me,” You reluctantly confirm. “Unfortunately, Benjamin couldn’t make it. Not a huge market for turtle tuxes these days.”

Jeremiah snaps his fingers, sucking his teeth like that’s the worst news he has gotten in his life.

“We could’ve squeezed him in one of Connie’s, I’m sure.” Jeremiah quips back, finally deciding to step around the couch instead of using it as a barrier. “The tie at least.”

You laugh, watching Conrad flex his fingers at his side as he takes a deep breath. The tension isn’t the air isn’t gone, but it is certainly getting way easier for him to breathe. One step at a time.

“That would have unfortunately derailed my plans for tricking your brother into being the ring bearer because hello, cute turtle? Broody dude in a bow tie?” You weigh your hands like a scale, tipping them heavily in favor of your pet being somehow involved in the wedding. “It’s not even a competition.”

“You’re really coming?”

Belly’s voice snaps all of you out of your plan to turn this from awkward conversation into totally normal banter, the smile in her voice evident as she looks at the brother you had come with.

“You’re coming to the wedding?”

She asks again, voice a million times lighter like a boulder just dropped off her shoulders. There’s a hint of a smile on her face, as if him choosing to come finally makes everything less scary.

You’re sure it does. They’ve gone from no wedding attendants to two in a matter of minutes, and finally there is going to be someone there who is on their side. You can’t blame her for being happy because it’s exactly how you feel every time you find yourself ranting to him about why one of your professors just needs to get laid and stop taking it out on the class.

Having Conrad in your corner is infinitely better than thinking everyone in your life thinks you are just being stupid kids.

As quickly as you start dissolving the tension, it sucks the room back up as Jeremiah, who had been thrilled to see you and his brother just minutes earlier glances over at his fiance with a look that you’re not quite sure how to place.

Jealousy, maybe?

There’s a hopeful look on her face, and his brother is the one who put it there. That can’t be a fun thing to witness.

It’s not particularly fun for you right now, and you don’t have any stakes in the game.

You’re not the only one who notices it either, Conrad’s face shifting from awkward to downright nervous as you watch him try to figure out a way to get that look off of his brother’s face.

“Wouldn’t have dragged my girlfriend across the country for no reason.”

You feel like every ounce of air has been sucked out of the room as the words tumble out of his mouth so quickly you’re not even sure he knows he said them. With one look, you can tell that he hadn’t meant to. That he is two seconds away from taking it back when you watch the tension visibly drop out of his younger brother’s shoulders.

Girlfriend.

If you weren’t currently standing in the kitchen of his summer house where his brother plans to marry the girl currently sending him in the stupidest tailspin of his life, you would be giving him the dirtiest look of all time and immediately shooting down the idea that you are in any way, shape, or form romantically linked to anyone with the last name Fisher. You’ve done it enough with Agnes to have plenty of practice.

Except, it looks like the air that has rushed out of your best friend’s chest has found its way to his brother’s because Jeremiah looks- Well, he looks alive.

Like one word somehow ended years of pent up anger and confusion. As if the decades long competition between the two of them over everything under the sun has just been ended with one ten letter word.

If playing girlfriend is what it takes to make these two weeks go on without any brothers giving each other a black eye or poisoning anyone’s food, you can play girlfriend. You’ll be the best damn fake girlfriend the world has ever seen.

What are best friends for after all?

Without missing a beat, you turn back to the two in front of you, offering them the brightest smile you think you have ever created in your life as you watch Belly’s own falter and Jeremiah’s grow.

Girlfriend.

You can do that.

To make matters worse for yourself, you had offered for the younger pair to join you guys for breakfast, graciously offering your “boyfriend’s” wallet up as collateral as a way to get properly introduced to the two of them. In hindsight, it was probably the smartest thing you could’ve done because it meant you got to drag the boy in question upstairs under the guise of getting ready.

That’s how you end up pacing barefoot across the length of Conrad’s bedroom while he lays flopped across his bed, hands pressed to his eyes. You don’t want to yell at him because he’s clenching his jaw like it’s a heartbeat, but he has just made this entire trip so complicated that all you can think to do is scream.

Which you won’t.

Because you’ve got two complete strangers in this house who now think you are in love with the boy you had followed across the country to be here.

For better or for worse.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, fingers still pressing into his eyes. “I do stupid shit when I’m stressed and-”

And he was standing in front of the girl he has been pining after practically since he could walk who is marrying his younger brother, who is also not stupid. You were in the same room as Belly and Conrad for not even five minutes and you were practically drowning in the tension in the room.

You know he panics in situations like that. When he feels like there’s no control to be had and he thinks someone else is going to get hurt. That’s how he ended up stepping down and now the two of them are engaged.

It’s not his fault. You’re not mad. You just-

You hate surprises. Always have.

Now, not only are you going to have to figure out how to spin this story, but the most pressing issue you two have in common is bubbling to the surface in an entirely new way.

Both of you have only ever been in love once.

You don’t know how to pretend to be in love with someone else.

With Jake, it was easy. You couldn’t remember a time where the two of you weren’t together before the break up. You think you must have been in love with him your entire life. Before the break up, it was a dream. Literally.

You’ve never really thought of anyone else in the same way, especially not Conrad. The two of you were always so stupidly in love with other people, it managed to bring you two into the same pit of despair and yearning together.

In the time the two of you have spent together, you have heard plenty about his strained relationship with his brother due to their mutual affections for the girl who had smiling at his so brightly in the living room only minutes before you had practically thrown Conrad up the stairs with the best smile you could muster up in return.

The only thing that may actually end up working in your favor is that in all of the stories that you have heard, it has never made any sense to you how Belly came into her choice of Fisher brothers at all.

Maybe it’s because this is the first time you are actually meeting Jeremiah and all you have heard are stories from a biased vantage point. Maybe it’s because you know exactly how the boy in front of you feels about the love of his life, and you selfishly want him to be happy more than anyone else in the world.

Or maybe because you have genuinely never met anyone as giving and overwhelmingly nice as Conrad.

Sure, he’s about as horrible a communicator as you have found yourself to be when it comes to feelings. He tends to make irrational decisions from time to time, hence your impromptu relationship that you have somehow found yourself in. He has just a smidge of both abandonment issues and the tendency to run away when things get a bit too complicated.

But he’s the kindest person you’ve ever met. He loves his brother, so much so that you are quite literally standing in his family beach house because he is going to watch his brother marry Belly. He buys you coffee when he knows you’re stressed. He’s helped you study regardless of how much he has to do himself, organizing your notes even though the two of you are in completely different majors.

He’s a good brother, despite what you’re sure other people may think. You can’t imagine having someone in your family being in love with Jake and deciding that you would bow out. You wouldn’t.

You’ve seen it eat at him over the years, but never once has he tried to uproot Jeremiah’s life in an attempt to make his own better.

You’re sure Jeremiah is great. He must be for the other two people in this house to care about him as much as they do, but you can’t imagine even seeing Jeremiah as an option with Conrad in front of you.

You can’t imagine a planet where someone is a better option than him.

If anything will help in this situation, you’re sure that it must.

“Do I have to wear one of those poofy dresses to declare us as courting or some shit?”

The question has his hand finally moving away from his eyes as he looks up at you, eyebrows pinched together.

”No,” He mumbles in confusion. “Why the fuck would you have to-“

“Then what are we apologizing for, Fisher?” You ask, putting your hands on your hips as you stand against the end of the bed. “I’m getting wined and dined in a million dollar beach house and all I’ve got to do is make goo-goo eyes at a decently attractive soon to be doctor. I think I’m making out pretty good.”

He rolls his eyes at the half-compliment you’ve given him before sitting up, pushing his hair away from his forehead as he lets the awkwardness of the situation leave his body.

Nobody is better at pulling him out of the whirlwind of his mind than you. He’s told you that a million times, but it’s nice to know it still works.

“Who said anything about wining and dining?”

”Oh,” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I will be wined and dined for this. I’m a very high maintenance girl, Connie.”

He laughs, the sound bubbling out of his chest and making the smile on your face grow. The two of you will get through this together. He just needs to know that.

”Somehow, I have trouble believing that.”

Luckily, you had already been staying in his room, not wanting to risk laying in stranger’s beds where they have occupied the space doing who knows what for years. Conrad had slept in his mom’s room, but to the couple downstairs, it would just look like you have been staying together since all of his things are still in this one.

You fling your suitcase open, fingers sifting through and pulling out quite literally everything you own and dropping it into piles on the floor by order of occasion. You had brought your nicest dress for the wedding, about thirty pairs of underwear because a girl can never have too many, and somehow a handful of shirts and only two pairs of shorts.

“I can be negotiable.”

”I’ll give you anything you want,” he says it like he’s joking, but when you glance back over your shoulder, you don’t miss the strange look on his face.

You’re not saving his life, but he certainly thinks so. From just one interaction, you’re not sure how he would have survived out here by himself like this.

“As long as your fake engagement ring skills are better than his, I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about.”

That one earns you an eye roll and a laugh, which you will take as another victory, dissolving the serious corner you could practically feel the conversation backing into. You’d do anything for him. You haven’t had a large number of friends in your life, but you know a good one when you see it.

He’s the best one you’ve ever had.

Being his fake girlfriend might just end up being the easiest job on the planet.

“I think I could cut down a bottle cap for you,” He offers teasingly, twirling around an invisible ring on his finger like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

”My hero,” You put a dramatic hand over your heart before you are reaching out, pulling him as hard as you can off of the bed and right into the mounds of clothes you have organized on the floor. “Now, help me decide what the hell to wear. What says happily taken, but also available to a richer man?”

He narrows his eyes at you and knocks his shoulder against yours, a laugh erupting out of your chest as you toss a rolled up pair of socks at him.

Was this how you expected your summer to go? No, but you can’t say you are mad about it. You’ve always wanted to see the place that has been in the background of a majority of his stories. The place that holds his best, and probably also his worst, memories.

Seeing Conrad happy is exactly how you want to spend your summer, now that you are thinking about it.

At this moment, you’re pretty sure you would drown his brother in the pool if he kept the smile he has on his face for the rest of his life.

Breakfast turned out to be way easier than you had built it up to be in your head on the car ride over.

Besides your feet practically begging to be released from the sneakers you had to throw on because again, your packing skills aren’t always the greatest, you had a surprisingly good time trying to ease Conrad out of his awkwardness and hearing bits and pieces about his past.

As for Belly, well it was quite easy to see what has both of the boys so enraptured. She’s pretty. Smart. Knows when to throw in a joke or hold back if she thinks someone will be embarrassed or upset.

She was also incredibly messy in an endearing way, having whipped cream from her pancakes somehow get on her nose multiple times throughout the meal. The second time, she had gotten incredibly flustered, but you were quick to tell her the same thing happens to you all the time.

It almost felt natural to reach up and pinch Conrad’s cheek in a threatening way when he not only decided it was best to back you up in the statement, but to provide multiple examples of times you have had food, paint, ink, pretty much anything that comes in contact with your hands on your face.

The conversation flowed pretty well, getting better as time went on and everyone began to accept the fact that they are actually in the same room as each other and they weren’t just waiting to wake up from some twistedly awkward nightmare.

Jeremiah, on the other hand, was the only downfall.

Not that you would say he was anything short of nice, obviously raised in the same household as the polite boy sitting at your side, thigh pressed up against your leg under the table as if the two of you being apart would be what ripped the universe apart.

He was charismatic. An obvious flirt, which you had heard quite a bit about in the conversations you had with Conrad throughout the years.

Charming.

You could tell he was playing it up as best he could, the tension easing out of his face when he realized that his brother had not come back to steal his girl. That he had still emerged victorious in the battle over Belly, even though you might entirely be sure how he managed to do it yet.

You had caught the looks Belly kept catching herself giving the older Fisher across the table. You’ve been that girl, all doe eyed and trying to convince yourself that you are so completely over your first love.

While it seemed neither of you had managed to find your way out of that hole, Jeremiah’s focus never even drifted between the two people you had seen him be so worried about at the house.

His focus was on you.

Normally, you would make a comment about it to try to handle it in an amusing way. Laughing it off as you just being a stranger and he hasn’t really been around too many of those anytime he steps foot in Cousins.

But Conrad’s foot keeps tapping against yours, a nervous habit that you barely remember noticing when you guys were home. In any new situation, his foot ends up tapping under the table and only occasionally would end up coming in contact with yours.

The two of you have never really sat this close together before.

Not that you mind. Half of it is your fault actually. You had practically thrown yourself down in the booth next to him, nudging him with your foot to wink at him when you had asked the waitress if she minded taking the peaches out of the side of fruit he had ordered himself because you knew he was going to let it slide.

He’s just sitting next to you, trying to make himself not think too hard about the fact that he is sitting across from Belly and they are joking around like they used to.

Laughing like they used to.

And it’s got to hurt to lose yourself in the scene for a moment, to forget everything that has gone on with a smile only to snap out of the daze because your brother is now holding her hand on top of the table.

So, you don’t really want to draw attention to it at all.

Maybe he’s just trying to psych you out. Or see if he can piece you together without so much as getting to know you.

It’s an odd look. Almost like he’s caught between wanting to ask you your darkest secret and being afraid to actually find out.

You’re not even sure you really have a deep, dark secret, but you are entirely sure that if anyone at this table was going to find out what it was, it would not be Jeremiah Fisher.

At some point, the two of you had begun engaging in somewhat of a staredown, him continuing to seem like he was silently trying to place you in his mind while you refuse to let a man think you are going to be made uncomfortable in any situation.

He looks away first, a swell of victory flooding through your chest as he snaps his head over to his fiance at the sound of her laugh. Neither one of you has been paying attention to the conversation, too engrossed in trying to make the other break first that you had missed what must have been so funny to have Belly covering her laugh with her hand as other diners look around to find the owner of the noise and Conrad has the smallest smile on his face.

Not a big deal to you.

Big deal to Jeremiah it seems.

His eyes flicker between yours and Belly’s, trying to continue whatever weird thing he had been trying to accomplish with you while also figuring out what his brother could have said that was so funny to have her laughing.

Before you can finally ask the younger boy if you’ve done something to make him so insistent on staring at you, the back of Conrad’s hand drops across the top of your thigh. He’s not smiling anymore when you look up at him in question.

He had been so wrapped up in the conversation with Belly that he had only caught the tail end of your weird exchange with his brother, eyebrows pinching together as your eyes met.

Maybe this was the perfect time to say something, but you don’t miss the blush at the tips of his ears as his focus solely turns to you as he tries to figure out what is going on.

You’ve spent about two hours with the couple across from you and the world hasn’t gone up in flames. Neither Fisher has raised their voice, no glasses have spontaneously combusted. From one look at the color in his face and the lightness in his eyes, you’d almost say he looks the happiest you’ve seen him.

As happy as a Conrad in Cousins who isn’t smiling in a photo with his now ex-girlfriend can be.

So, you shrug your shoulders at his questioning gaze, dropping your hand into his open one as if it was an invitation and twisting your fingers together before pulling your freshly joined hands on top of the table like the couple across from you.

If it surprises him at all, nobody seems to be able to tell. His hand flexes between yours before giving it a small squeeze and he is turning back to the table like you’ve just answered his question rather than ignored it completely.

Belly’s eyes only flicker down once, flitting over where his fingers sit in between yours before she is back to smiling at you just as warmly as she had attempted to before.

Jeremiah leans back in his chair, shoulders relaxing as he asks Conrad when the last time he had talked to their father was.

You?

Well, you hadn’t put too much thought into what playing someone’s girlfriend would be like. You had just decided that you were going to play it up for the audience and hopefully get Jeremiah to quit looking at you like you were either his favorite thing on the planet or the thing he hated most in the world.

Thankfully, it worked, but you weren’t expecting that grabbing Conrad’s hand would feel-

Natural.

The two of you had never held hands before, not that you had ever even thought of the possibility. The only hand you had ever held was Jake’s, the ring around his index finger always sitting awkwardly against the bone of your knuckle. The only hand you ever wanted to hold was Jake’s.

So, you’d thought holding someone else’s hand would feel wrong. Not like you were cheating because the two of you were so incredibly over that even the delusional piece of your heart that thought you would get back together when the time was right knew you could do anything under the sun you wanted with anyone.

But wrong because he was supposed to be the person you were made to be with.

You thought your hands were made for holding his, but you’re sitting in this coastal diner with two almost strangers across from you and Conrad Fisher is holding your hand like you two have been doing it for your entire lives and it feels right.

Man, maybe you are losing it.

Or it’s just been too long since you’ve had any sort of romance in your life that you are capable of blurring the lines in your mind for just a second.

That’s all it is.

Just a little blur before you snap back into reality because you are not interested in Conrad Fisher.

”I’ve been meaning to get back to him,” Conrad’s voice drags you out of the slippery slope you had felt yourself sliding down, his foot now finally resting against your own instead of anxiously tapping against it. “I just haven’t really had the time with the internship and everything.”

The internship.

The one he no longer has because of Steven’s accident and how distracted he had become at the hospital. The one he had lost and called you right after with a pinched sound in his voice that you never wanted to hear again.

He had almost cried over losing that internship, but you’d never say that.

His relationship with his dad is complicated, which you can understand. Yours with your own isn’t much better, but there was certainly way more bad blood between the boy sitting next to you and the other half of his genetics than you think one person could possibly take.

It doesn’t shock you that he wouldn’t want to talk to him. You’d even told him on the plane that if you ran into Adam for even a moment, you weren’t sure you would be able to refrain from throwing a chair or screaming at him.

He’d told you that he doubts either of you would be seeing much of the guy since everyone was still highly combative about this entire wedding. Belly’s mom was the one most adamantly against it, but his father was way too upset with Jeremiah to even fathom the idea of showing up to do anything other than berate the boy across from you.

“Well, Jeremiah is actually about to start a job there, so maybe-“ Belly chimes in, squeezing Jeremiah’s hand like this is the best news possible. “Maybe you three could all go to lunch or something.”

Conrad’s hand twitches in yours, the first sign of his anxiety returning at the sight of Belly sitting across from him with that hopeful look in her eyes like him agreeing to go is somehow going to mend the fences that her fiancé has torn down.

He hates disappointing people, especially Belly. His entire life has been about how to fix any problems she could possibly have, which is why the two of you are even out here in the first place.

He’s got a laundry list of issues to fix around the house and a promise to his mother that he would look out for his brother. As of right now, you two are the only anticipated attendees from either family because of how deeply he feels the urge to fix everything.

And while he may feel some kind of unwavering loyalty to the people across the table, yours is completely wrapped up in the owner of the hand you are holding.

”Actually,” You speak before he has the opportunity to, words dying on the tip of his tongue as you tap your foot against his under the table with a smile at the couple in front of you. “I have been promised an extensive tour of Cousins and have been practically begging for him to let me look at that ceiling light in the living room, so we will have to see if there’s any time.”

You watch her shoulders fall just enough for you to practically feel Conrad psyching himself up to agreeing to a lunch that you know just as well as he does will only end badly.

“I can’t really be trusted on a ladder by myself,” You add on with a chuckle. “Super clumsy. Then all your wedding photos will have some random girl in the background in a full body cast, and I don’t think anyone wants to see that.”

That earns you a chuckle from both parties that quickly covers up the sigh of relief that you let out at how easily you switch the topic away from trapping your best friend into what you can only describe as a nightmare scenario for everyone involved.

While the two of them look visibly less tense and amused, Conrad’s mouth is pinched up like something you said left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Or maybe all that grilled chicken has finally gotten to him.

You don’t take time to dwell on it, turning yourself back to the happy couple across from you to eagerly turn the conversation completely away from anything to do with him having to do anything that he shouldn’t have to handle.

“How is the wedding planning going so far?”

Belly’s hands slip out of Jeremiah’s to cover her face with a sigh that you are sure if it sounds more frustrated or tired. You can’t help but feel bad for her, she thinks marrying Jeremiah is supposed to be this great thing and nobody else is on her side.

You can’t imagine trying to plan a wedding without anyone else by your side.

Not that you’ve ever come close, but you can imagine.

”Better than I expected, but we are nowhere near where we should be.”

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