Aubrey

I’m good at a lot of things.

Arguing in court, reading people, and knowing when a man is about to disappoint me. Dating, though? I’m apparently terrible at that. Somewhere between my second drink and the first red flag I can’t unsee, I start picking men apart like it’s my job. Which, oftentimes actually is. 

Still, continuing to stay single has never been a problem for me . . . until it suddenly is. 

When annoying workplace gossip leaves me needing to flaunt a new man, I decide the best way to get everyone off my back is to give them what they want. So I do the only sensible thing I can think of. I ask my best friend for help. 

Finn has known me since we were kids. He knows my habits and exactly how fast I bolt when something feels off. He agrees to coach me through dates and teach me how to stop scaring men away. 

But what he doesn’t know is that the more time we spend pretending this isn’t changing anything between us, the harder it becomes to ignore how easy being with him feels, and how impossible it is to pretend I don’t want more. 

Finn

Saying yes to Aubrey was easy. 

She’s my best friend and the person I trust most in a world where that isn’t easy. Helping her navigate a few dates shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve pitched in front of thousands of people during high pressure games for the Vancouver Havoc. I know how to stay calm, read a situation, and keep my head on straight when everything’s on the line. 

Giving dating advice? That sounds simple enough. Except the more time I spend helping her find a boyfriend, the more the lines blur and I see what I’ve been blind to all these years.

That I don’t want to help her find the right guy. 

I want to be him.