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callsign-venus · 28 days

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For the Love of Love | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader | Part II

Part I | Series Masterlist

Summary: You immediately have doubts. As the morning goes on, they only get stronger. Good thing Bradley can be normal about this. Right?

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: fake dating, fake dating Bradley Bradshaw in particular, completely implied age gap

a/n: Thank all y'all for the response to the first part :) I was so nervous to post it, but everyone has been so kind and encouraging! Also, I've created a taglist for this series -- please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future updates! Ok, ok, let's get this show on the road (literally, we're on the way to Tahoe lol), enjoy x

It was 6:15 am. Streetlights washed your walls a bright, sterile white. You paced in front of your door. Next to it, your pink luggage set waited for you dutifully. Bradley was supposed to pick you up 15 minutes ago. He hadn’t responded to any of your texts. Or your calls.

Were you dumb for thinking he really wanted to join you – and your entire family – in Tahoe? Was he drunker than he let on last night, or maybe he forgot entirely? You hoped not, you’d already bought him the seat next to you on the plane. You really didn’t want to explain to your parents why they were paying for two plane seats when only you arrived at the cabin.

You checked your phone. 6:17. Soon, you’d have to drive by yourself. Maybe he’d catch you at the airport.

Just as you made for your keys, there was a sharp knock at your door. You undid the deadbolt and flung it open. Bradley stood in the sickly yellow light of the hallway, looking better than you wanted him to in just gray sweats and a black hoodie.

“Good morning!” He was surprisingly chirpy for how early it was.

“You’re late. Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

“What texts?”

“The texts I sent you?” You grabbed all three pieces of your luggage and struggled through the door frame.

“My phone died.” He was tapping his phone screen like he was just realizing that it wasn’t turning on. He gave up, pocketed the phone, and lifted the two biggest suitcases out of your hands. “Jesus, how long are we going to be gone? It’s like you packed your whole closet.”

“Three days. But I have to be prepared.” You locked up your apartment and started down the stairs, your suitcase clanking down each step. Your neighbors were probably thrilled.

Bradley followed behind you, lifting your other suitcases as if they weighed nothing.

“So you’re just going to travel with a dead phone?” You asked when you finally made it to the lobby.

He shrugged. “Is your phone charged?”

“Of course.”

“Works good enough for me.”

He reached over your head to hold open the front door as you dragged your suitcase into the brisk early morning. His Bronco shone like adventure. You and Bradley loaded your luggage, and he opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat.

“Coffees?” You asked as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the car.

He glanced down at the twin iced coffees lined up in the cupholders between you. “I thought it'd help us get through the early morning. I didn’t know what you liked though, so I just got you my drink.”

You stabbed a straw through the plastic lid of the coffee and took a sip. It was shockingly sweet. You coughed a little.

“You like it?” Bradley smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’ve perfected my order. Caramel and white mocha and cinnamon sprinkle on top.”

You take another sip. Without the sweetness taking you by surprise, it was much better. “It’s good. I would have pegged you for a hot black coffee guy, though.”

“I’m full of surprises.” He merged on the freeway.

The sound of the road passing under the Bronco filled the silence of the car.

“So…” Bradley tapped his thumb against the Bronco’s wheel, the echoes of some song you didn’t know. “What’s your family like?”

You watched lights flick on in the windows of the buildings you passed. People getting ready for their typical days. You pressed down a shock of panic. This was absurd. But Bradley seemed committed, and if it was going to work, you had to set him up for success. That meant warning him about your family.

“Well, my Grandma Sybil and Grandpa Thomas have been married for sixty years. Obviously.” Nervous laughter bubbled from your lips before you could stop it. “They’re Grandma and Grandpa. I grew up going to their house and stuffing myself on her cookies and falling asleep on his lap. But Grandma Sybil can be… stern.”

He stopped tapping his thumb to snag his coffee and take a sip. “Like, how so?”

“She’s just a little rough around the edges. She had a tough life before meeting my grandfather, and though she softened to him, I don’t think she softened much to the rest of the world. Just, don’t take it personally if she doesn’t warm up to you right away. Or at all.”

“Noted.” You heard him swallow.

You picked at a seam in your pants. “And their oldest daughter is my Aunt Marnie. She’s married to Uncle Jim. They run a crystal shop just outside of Vegas. They might try to push moonstone or onyx on you. Just smile and accept it.”

“Ok. Marnie and Jim. Crystals.” He committed the names to memory.

“Their daughter Sabrine just got married.”

“You went to the wedding, I remember.”

You flushed, grateful that the sun hadn’t quite risen yet and the hotness of your cheeks dissipated in the darkened car. He had remembered. You didn’t think any detail of your life was important enough for him to care to remember – and it really was just one week that you were gone – but maybe your life had bled into the Daggers’ more than you thought.

As the airport came into view, you told him about Sabrine and how she would bring her new husband Matt. She was already seven months pregnant. Grandma Sybil was less than pleased, but Grandpa Thomas either didn’t care or hadn't worked out the math.

“And what do your aunt and uncle think?” Bradley asked.

“I think they’re just happy that she’s happy. They sound excited to be grandparents. But Auntie Marnie did complain that the wedding was tacky.”

Bradley snorted. “Was it?”

“It was sweet,” you said. “It was in his mom’s backyard. The colors were red and black, but it was sweet.”

An airplane roared overhead, glinting in the sun that was just sharpening over the horizon.

Bradley pulled into the airport’s parking garage. He had only packed himself a duffle bag, so he was able to carry all of your luggage plus his own. In exchange, you carried both coffees and locked the Bronco. You slipped Bradley’s keys into his pocket as he instructed, your fingers warming where they grazed the fabric of his sweats.

The airport was fizzing with the whispers of early morning travelers. You rubbed your eyes as you stepped under the fluorescent lights, taking stock of just how many others were yawning and lining up at the baggage counter under those same lights. Why was the airport so busy before 7am?

As if he could read your mind (or maybe he just saw you tense up at the sight of so many people), Bradley said, “It’s ok. We still have time.”

His reassurance drove you to action. You traded his coffee for your bags and shuffled into line for the check in counter. From the standstill line, you watched Bradley as he wandered around the walkway, taking sips of his coffee, staring up at the ceiling, and generally being a 6’1” hazard to the travelers rushing to get to the TSA line. You rolled your suitcases across the green gray carpets the check in counter line eked forward, nearly running into the old man in front of you as you kept your gaze on Bradley. Why was even his boredom endearing?

Just before you got to the front of the line, he stopped and stared up at the ceiling, causing a woman who was looking at her phone to crash into him. You giggled as you watched him apologize, and saw, in real time, as the woman went from indignant to flustered as she realized how hot he was. She tried to strike up a conversation, but he caught your gaze from across the room. Her eyes followed his, and when it hit you, she was quick to disappear into the airport crowd.

Your face grew hot. You mouthed sorry to him as the woman at the counter was calling you forward. You were a little sorry; she was very pretty. But some part of you delighted in being perceived as his girlfriend, even if it was easier to convince a stranger than your family.

“Ma’am, next guest.” The stern voice of the woman at the counter shook you from your thoughts.

Once your bags were checked, you caught up with Bradley. The two of you rounded the corner only to stop short when you saw the enormous security line.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groaned.

“We’ll be fine. It’s only 7:15.” Bradley nudged your shoulder with his. “Plus, it gives us time to get our story straight.”

“Our story?” You asked as you both stepped into line.

“Yeah. Like, how did we meet?”

You didn’t skip a beat. “Nat introduced us.”

“That was quick.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Well, let’s try to stick with reality as much as possible. And my family loves Nat, her stamp of approval will go down great.” You really hoped no one could hear you two. But the steady murmur of overlapping early-morning conversation seemed to drown out your weird topic of conversation.

“Well, how long have we been dating?”

That you had to think about. “Well, it can’t be too short, otherwise it would be weird that I’m bringing you.”

“It’s already weird.” He laughed.

“They don’t need to know that,” you said. “How long do you think we could pass for? 2 months? 6?”

“Aren’t they going to ask why you’ve never talked about me or brought me around?”

“Good point. We’ll say 4, and I’ll just tell them I wanted to be sure before I told them about you.”

“You think we could convince them we’ve been dating for four months?”

You shrugged, but your stomach somersaulted. “We can try.”

“Like this?” He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers between yours.

Your hand tensed. Your stomach did a whole gymnastics routine. You were holding hands with Bradley Bradshaw in the airport. You looked around, sure that any TSA agent in your vicinity could sense your anxiety and pull you for secondary screening.

“Relax.” He patted your hand with his free one. “We’re not going to get far like this.”

You forced your fingers to meld with his. The iced coffee and your nerves were a terrible mix for your empty stomach.

“Better.” He kept hold of your hand as you shuffled up the line. Then he grinned.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You know those couples in lines at amusement parks?” A lopsided smile brightened his face. “When they’re waiting in line?”

“The ones that are really into PDA?”

“Exactly.” He dropped your hand, slid up behind you, and wrapped his arms across your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. “All we need to do is follow their lead.”

You did everything in your power to stay upright and keep your breathing steady with his chin pressing into your skin. He kept hold of you as the line moved up. You clenched your hands, your nails digging crescents into your palms. There was no way he couldn’t hear your racing heart and your ragged breathing.

“And there’s this move.”

As the line slouched to a stop, he spun you around, still keeping hold of your waist, but now you were face to face. You looked up at him, tried to form a sentence, but found yourself completely dumb. He leaned his forehead against yours. Surely he could feel the warmth of your face, see the confused longing in your eyes. He smiled at you for just a second before he broke away from you and threw his head back laughing, drawing glares from your fellow sleep-deprived travelers.

You were practically mute through the rest of security. Bradley seemed to have fun grabbing your hand, draping an arm around your shoulders, and messing with your hair. You wondered if he knew the effect he was having on you or if he was earnestly trying to practice for your family. Maybe he was just trying to rile you up.

“You were great.” He patted the top of your head, causing your heart to shrivel a bit. “We’ll have them all wrapped around our fingers.”

You cleared your throat and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Once you were through security, you broke up to scrounge some breakfast. Well, that’s what you let Bradley think anyway. You tried to beat down the butterflies in your stomach as you wove between slow-walking travelers toting huge suitcases and knots of families with waddling toddlers, straight to the bathroom.

The stall offered you just enough privacy to freak out. You felt your face, your waist, flexed your hands right in front of your eyes. It took you months to not freak out about the platonic arm draped around your shoulders, his quick hugs goodbye at the Hard Deck. How on Earth were you going to be normal about this?

He complimented you on a job well done, but in truth, he did all the work. You didn’t reach out for him once in the security line. Would your family even believe you liked him? After that performance, the idea that they could possibly think that you were in love seemed laughable.

The weekend stretched long ahead of you. You were beginning to realize how stupid it was for you to begin such a ruse that you’d have to keep up for three days. You wondered if Bradley would react poorly to being sent home after already getting through security.

You hurriedly texted Nat – who knew very well how you felt about her coworker, almost to the point where she might have purposefully orchestrated your trip. It was a bit of a text wall, detailing the TSA line and your dread about the weekend. If she wasn’t already working, she would probably be asleep for three more hours, so you pocketed your phone after hitting send.

The sound of a flushing toilet reminded you that, yes, you were having a small crisis in a public bathroom. That thought was so sad that you took a deep breath, set your shoulders, and walked out of the stall to face the world.

From a little store, you picked up a berry parfait for breakfast and a bottled orange juice, since the TSA confiscated your half-empty iced coffee.

You found Gate 4. People were falling asleep upright in the airport seats, blankets and pillows abound. It smelled like the Jack in the Box across the way. You found two empty seats by the window and kicked up your feet to reserve one for Bradley.

He found you ten minutes later, carrying a bag stuffed with two bagels – one sausage and egg breakfast sandwich and one cinnamon raisin with strawberry cream cheese, he explained. You nodded as you dropped your feet and scraped the rest of your yogurt out of your cup.

“So your cousin Sabrine is pregnant and your grandma isn’t happy,” he said around a big bite of bagel, egg, and sausage. “What else?”

“Well, my grandparents’ youngest child is Auntie Elaine. She lives in Alaska with her husband. They breed sled dogs.”

Bradley paused right before another bite. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Some of their dogs run the Iditarod, and I think one was part of the winning team a few years back. They have twins a little older than me. Nora and her wife Madison, they’re… really cool. Last I heard, they were climbing K2. And there’s Nora’s twin brother Owen. He has a girlfriend named Addison, which I think is funny. Madison and Addison. The twins don’t think it’s as funny as I do.”

Bradley laughed. The bagel sandwich was gone, and he traded the leftover wad of greasy wrapping paper for the cinnamon raisin bagel. “And what’s the deal with Owen and Addison?”

“They’re pretty chill.” You thought about it for a minute. “Owen used to punch drywall, but he’s calmed down.”

Bradley stared at you, waiting for you to laugh.

The gate agent called you to board before you could explain. Though you didn’t think any explanation would be helpful.

The plane ride was nice and short. You slept through most of the hour and a half. You were mortified to wake up on Bradley’s shoulder as the plane jolted in the harsh turbulence that shrouded the Reno airport.

You sat bolt upright, fully awake. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He patted your thigh assuredly. “It’s good practice.”

You didn’t have time to freak out at his touch because the plane rocked again. You’d experienced this turbulence countless times, something about the mountains and the desert air made the plane bounce around like a toy in the hands of an overexcited toddler. Still, as the plane jerked down, it planted a pit in your stomach that made your hands clammy.

When the plane dipped again, you clutched the armrest. You didn’t want to look at Bradley, who probably thought your overreaction was silly. He’d experienced g-forces upwards of 8Gs countless times. It was bad enough flying next to Nat, who you knew would never judge you, but next to Bradley, you felt like a little kid scared of the dark.

“Hey,” he gingerly pried your hand off the armrest and held it with a softness you didn’t expect from him, “look at me.”

You tore your eyes away from the flight tracker on the display in front of you, worried you’d see judgment in his dark eyes. But his expression was everything soft.

He smiled when you met his gaze. “We’re going to be fine. Trust me, I’ve flown a plane or two.”

You laughed despite the plane suddenly banking upward.

He squeezed your hand as the plane leveled. “So here’s the deal: you keep looking at me. You can only panic if I start panicking. Deal?”

You nodded. “Deal.”

He held your hand and your eyes until the plane kissed the blessed tarmac. By then, the pit in your stomach had been flooded with a mushy feeling you simply did not have time to drain because the seatbelt sign dinged off, and you had a rental car to secure.

Getting out of the airport went as smoothly as possible. Within 20 minutes of deboarding, you and all your luggage was crammed into a rental Prius. Bradley’s nose crinkled when he first saw it, but he folded himself into the passenger seat without complaint.

You fiddled with the radio until you got it to play a throwback ‘70s station, then peeled out of the airport. Soon, the dusty city of Reno and its casinos were in the rearview, and the Sierra Nevadas loomed large on the horizon. When the road lifted off the desert floor and began winding through the foothills, childhood excitement drummed through your veins. As the car screamed along the highway, desert scrub blurred into pine trees that jutted straight up toward the endless blue sky. Patches of snow bloomed in their shade.

“Wow,” Bradley said as the trees grew thicker like a tightly stitched blanket over the mountains. Snow carpeted the ground. Little cabins shone through the forest and snow like jewels.

“Wait until we get around this mountain.” You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You carefully made a sharp turn, the mountainside steep and unwelcoming. But as the car straightened out, the trees yawned apart, and you caught Bradley gawking at the lake out of the corner of your eye.

Nestled between snow-draped mountains, it shone like a sapphire in the late morning sun.

You’d spent several summers splashing in its frigid waters with your cousins until your skin was so covered in goosebumps that Grandma Sybil threatened to pluck you for Christmas dinner. The same lake was the backdrop to hundreds upon hundreds of ski runs and one trip down the mountain with ski patrol. Your arm still ached to think about that late February day, even all these years later.

“It’s beautiful,” Bradley said, and you agreed wholeheartedly.

Your phone’s navigation system stated that there was only 20 minutes until you reached your grandparent’s cabin. You sucked in a breath between your teeth and cracked a window, hoping the cold, piny air would help settle your stomach. It didn’t. But you still had to finish giving Bradley the family rundown.

“My parents are Sean and Catherine,” you said. “My dad might try to intimidate you, but don’t worry, he’s a softie.”

“Ok.”

You couldn’t be sure he was paying attention, as his face was all but pressed against the window, soaking in the spectacular views. Even if you wanted to be mad, you really couldn’t blame him.

You stepped on the breaks as the road started dipping down a little. “My mom will be the most problematic. I swear sometimes she can read my mind. Whatever we do, it’ll be hard to convince her.”

“We’re going to be there in 18 minutes. Next time, a little more heads up please?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Your grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Just tell her that you take me to Vino in La Jolla and buy me flowers.”

“Is that what your ideal man would do?”

Would it be so bad if you just drove off the road? The steep mountainside looked more inviting by the second.

“Shut up.” You froze your gaze to the winding road. “I have a brother, his name is Tommy.”

“I know,” he said. “I think I’ve met him once – when he was in San Diego for spring break?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” you said. “Well, he and his girlfriend Georgia are high school sweethearts. They’re the perfect couple, and it makes me sick.”

Bradley chuckled. “Noted.”

“So first goal: be believable.”

He laid his hand on your thigh. “Done.”

“Good.” His hand was burning hot. The car swerved ever so slightly as you lost focus on the road for a moment. “Second goal: be a better couple than Tommy and Georgia.”

“Let’s not try to overshoot this. We’ve only been dating for 4 months.”

You laughed in spite of yourself. When you eventually found your real partner, and everyone gathered in Tahoe again for Tommy and Georgia’s wedding, or a wintery ski trip, or whatever comes next for your family, you’ll come clean. You’ll cling to your partner and tell everyone all about your good friend Bradley Bradshaw and how the two of you never really dated. Your grandparents’ anniversary will be a hazy memory, but everyone will remember the tall, good-looking naval aviator and his (totally out of season) Hawaiian shirts and giant mustache. There would be shock, but eventually it would be an inside joke for years to come. You just had to get through this weekend.

Too soon, you were pulling into the cabin’s long, steep driveway. The cabin itself jutted off of the mountainside, its tapered roof giving it a harsh look, though you swore when you were little it just made it look cozy and inviting. Its windows were like glassy eyes following the Prius.

You put the car in park and turned to Bradley.

“Ready?” You asked.

“Ready, babe.”

Before you could fully register the fact that he called you babe, the cabin’s front door slammed open, and your family bursted out to greet you and the mysterious man you’d arrived with.

The knot in your stomach tightened like a noose.

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