Pants on Fire

Cricket

Success is what you make of it. That’s my motto and the premise of my speech; the one I’m heading back to Southern Illinois University to give at my college alumni reunion. As the morning co-host of Good Morning, San Francisco, I was asked to be one of the keynote speakers, and while I’m honored to do so, there’s only one problem. The other speaker is Danny Ohara, my former boyfriend. Throw in an issue with my credit card that leaves me stuck at the airport, no rental car in sight, until a familiar face appears like a guardian angel in sexy black glasses.

Here’s my dilemma with my attraction to Rueben Rigsby, my airport savior and old friend from college: I’m not supposed to be attracted to him. At all. He’s my ex’s former roommate. Yet that doesn’t stop my big mouth from lying about the status of our relationship when we come face-to-face with said former roommate. As in, we have one.

Together.

Rueben

I don’t know why I agreed to come back to SIU for the alumni reunion, but I’m damn sure glad I did. When I found the familiar face stranded at the airport, I readily agreed to give her a ride. It’s great to catch up with Cricket Hill, as we make our way back to the place we ultimately met. What I’m not prepared for is this overwhelming attraction I feel for her. I’m not supposed to notice how amazing her butt looks in a pair of black yoga pants. She’s a friend. Period.

But Cricket has other plans. When she lies about our budding relationship to my former roommate and her ex, I have no choice but to go along with it to save face. I have to pretend to be her boyfriend. I mean, it’s one little white lie, right?

Wrong.