Free Faking It by Leah Marie Brown

Travis’s unexpected reappearance in my life has been unsettling and kind of sexy.
    Shit! Did I really just think that? What about Nathan? Sweet, reliable, steady, perfect-on-paper Nathan? Guilt stabs my heart. I am an awful faithless fiancée. Maybe I should swear off all men. Maybe I should give the lesbian thing further thought.
    The shower turns off so I hurriedly open my Twitter app. The first Travelocity Ring photo has been retweeted 67 times and I have 312 new followers. WTH?
     
    Tweet from Alexis:
    My friend @PerpetuallyViv was dumped by her fiancé. Is she sitting at home weeping? NO! #LostFianceKeptRing #HoneymooningSolo #WomanScorned
     
    Retweets from random new followers:
    @GirlPower Go girl! #HooneymooningSolo? Now that’s #badass
    @HungryInHolland When my ex broke up with me, I lost 23 lbs. #ExBoyfriendProblems #Bonus
    @BourgeoisPrincess Your ex is a peasant. Prince Charming is still out there. #KeepHoping
     
    What if @BourgeoisPrincess is wrong? What if Nathan was my Prince Charming and my stupid lie ruined our Happily Ever After? What if we get only one chance at True Love and if we blow it we are condemned to a life of longing and regret? I imagine sitting across the breakfast table from a flabby balding man, while a flock of runny-nosed children flap around us. Tears spill out of the corners of my eyes and slide into my hair.
    The bathroom door opens. Fanny emerges, a cloud of scented steam circling her. I slide my iPhone under my pillow and bat the tears away.
    “You don’t have to hide your phone, Vivian.” Fanny rubs moisturizer into her face. “I know you’ve been checking for messages.”
    I sit up. “What do you mean?”
    “Puhleez.” Fanny stops rubbing her face and stares at me. “So did you hear from Nathan?”
    I shake my head.
    “ Bâtard! ” She walks over to the bed, grabs my hand, and pulls me up. “Forget Nathan…at least for tonight. Go get cleaned up and let’s meet the other bikers. Who knows? Maybe one of them is the love of your life.”

Chapter 10
    Enter Hot Frenchman
     
    I remember Fanny’s prediction the next morning as I am slipping on the skort Chantal let me borrow, and I can’t keep from snorting.
    I can safely say I will not be making a love connection on this trip, unless I want to become an adulteress or pedophile. Out of a group of ten, only three are male: two married men traveling with their wives and one sixteen year old.
    Chantal introduced us to the other riders at dinner last night. The Byrons, a family of four from Toledo, Ohio, said they believed in “strengthening familial bonds” by taking adventure vacations together. The parents seem like über overachievers.
    Candace and Liz, two forty-something divorcees from Seattle, look like they know how to have a good time. They finished two bottles of wine before dinner. By dessert, they were laughing uproariously at a game they called “Sitcom Sex.” One would name an old sitcom and the other had to respond with the name of the star they would “boink”. Candace chose Zach from Saved by the Bell and Peter from The Brady Bunch .
    “I like ’em young,” she declared, winking.
    The Byrons looked a little creeped out.
    The Rosenthals are a sweet older couple celebrating their thirty-fifth anniversary by taking this tour. Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Rosenthal was charming and attentive to his wife, but he’s getting off pretty cheap. Thirty-five years of ironing his clothes, cooking his meals, listening to his same old stories, and all Mrs. Rosenthal scores is a long bike ride? Bogus.
    Jean-Luc the Amazing wasn’t at dinner last night, so the conversation remained light. No war stories from his days on the Tour de France, no lectures about the challenges of long distance cycling. I have developed an ugly mental picture of Jean-Luc. He probably has leathery skin, veins that bulge, and an extensive collection of camouflage biker shorts.
    Shoving my feet into a pair of borrowed biking shoes, I stand,