Chapter 11
I step onto the balcony after dinner, a steaming hot mocha in hand, and Westley is already leaning over his balcony waiting for me.
“Hey.” His hair is damp from a shower he must have had since he left earlier. He’s wearing grey sweats and a white T-shirt that stretches around his huge arms. Not shirtless. Shame. But still alarmingly attractive.
“Thanks for waiting until Aurora went to bed.” I cross my arms on top of the railing.
“Of course. I should have thought of that myself.”
I wave a hand in the air, dismissing any feeling of guilt. “It’s fine. She’ll need to know some of the details anyway. I just figured we should get everything decided between us first.”
“Any thoughts on how we’re going to do this?” he asks, huffing out a nervous chuckle.
This guy is something else. So big and gruff on the outside, but soft and sweet on the inside. I’m going to have to make sure whatever we do to sell this as real sticks to the deal we made. Fake. I can’t be catching feelings. I just… can’t.
“I called Liv before and let her know she’s off the hook. She had a lot of questions.”
“She’s not the only one,” I mutter. “Why don’t we start with you first? When’s the wedding?”
“Six weeks away. Your camp?”
“Four weeks. How close are you to the people going to this wedding?”
“I went to high school with a lot of them. Still see the groom on a somewhat regular basis.”
I nod to myself. “We’re going to have to sell this as fairly recent. What timeline do you think will work?”
Westley runs a hand through his hair as he thinks. I can still remember the feel of it when he gripped my waist, warm and rough. I’ve never held hands with a guy, never had time for something as sweet and simple as that. I wonder what it’s like.
“By the time the wedding rolls around, we could easily have been together for three months,” Westley says.
“Wow, and I’m already your date for a wedding. You must really like me.” I flutter my eyelashes in a tease. The low lights coming off my balcony show his barely there smile.
“Does that timing work for you?” he asks.
I take a sip of my mocha before answering. “Aurora and I moved to the city almost two months ago. But no one knows us, so that works.”
“How did we meet?”
“Keep it as close to the truth as possible,’ I say. “We have mutual friends, and our bosses are dating. We met through them.”
“What about PDA?”
My brows pinch. “PDA?”
“Yeah, like how physical are we getting?”
I smile. “As flattered as I am by your brazen pursuit to get into my pants, I don’t think we need to sleep together to sell this.”
“Your enthusiasm does wonders for my ego, thanks,” he says, matching my exasperation. “But I meant when we’re around people, are we holding hands? Kissing?”
I swallow what feels like gravel. I may come across as confident when it comes to the opposite sex, but in actual fact, it couldn’t be further from the truth.
I have an okay level of experience, thanks to a few guys here and there, but it’s virtually non-existent when it comes to the sweeter side, like hand-holding.
“I guess that’s all expected… but let’s just keep the kissing for when it’s absolutely necessary.” I’m not even sure I like kissing. I don’t know if it’s smart to test the theory too hard with my hot neighbour.
He nods. “What about the living situation? Do we say we’re neighbours too, or is it all sounding too fake?”
“This is fake.”
West shakes his head, ignoring the way I clearly amuse him. “Should we just say we live together?”
“After three months?” I blanch. “Is that not, like, way too early in a relationship?”
“I guess it depends on the people in the relationship. What’s the quickest you’ve moved in with a guy?”
“Never,” I say, without pause.
That shocks him. His head rears back, eyes searching in all directions as if he’s looking for answers. “You’ve never lived with a partner?”
“I’ve never had a boyfriend.” Annnd, now he’s frozen on the spot. “I’ve been too busy raising Aurora on my own. I don’t have time for that. I’ve got enough on my plate just thinking about the two of us. I can’t add another person.”
“That makes sense,” he says more to himself. “It’s obvious Aurora is your priority. She seems like a great kid.” Something inside my chest blooms at his words. An acknowledgement that everything I’ve worked for has paid off. It’s nice to hear someone other than myself say it. “Still, it’s a shame.”
Like a record screeching, my thoughts stop abruptly. “What’s a shame?”
“Never had a boyfriend? Someone to dote on you and share the load. Someone to remind you how beautiful you are. Someone to worship you.” His hand flies to his chest, like some stricken Romeo.
“Waking up tangled in the other person, the lines of your bodies blurred, and the heat between you an inferno, but it’s too good to break away. ”
My pulse is pounding in my ears, the image he’s painting like water raging over my head, pulling me down with him into whatever this fantastical state of living is. Must be all those romance books he reads.
“Getting lost in each other before you leave the bed again.” He hums. “When watching a woman strut through the house after you’ve made her see stars with your tongue is just as powerful for you as it is for her.
The radiant confidence of a woman when she’s woken up to her man showing her just how much all that sass brought him to his knees, happily.
Hungrily. I can see it now.” He groans. “You’d be fucking stunning. ”
I was wrong. The water’s not raging over my head, it’s running down my thighs. This man was sent to torture me.
What’s going on? I’ve never had an attraction like this.
I can’t even pinpoint what it is. Maybe we should get it out of our systems?
That will help me think straight. NO! That will not help, Maevyn!
You need to pretend to like this guy. Chin up, shoulders back, and for God’s sake, keep those legs closed.
“Still with me, Trickster?” My focus is already unknowingly locked on his lips, and I continue to watch as they pull into a self-satisfied smirk.
“Dick.”
“That was for the no underwear comment earlier.”
“Yours was so much worse.” My voice comes out breathy and rough.
“What’s the verdict? Are we roommates or neighbours?”
“Neighbours. Makes more sense with a child involved.” Just having Westley on the other side of my balcony is an unexpected disruption to the world I so carefully crafted.
“So, what’s the story with your ex? Why did you break up?” I ask, needing to change the subject.
He hesitates, the confident, cocky guy from moments before gone. Has he been hurt? I don’t like the idea of him being hurt.
“Phoebe and I rushed into things.” He blows out a breath. “We went to high school together, so we knew each other well enough, at least we thought we did. We reconnected some years later and got so caught up in the whirlwind of falling in love that we forgot to iron out some important details.”
“Such as?”
“She wanted kids.” Chills skate up my arms. “And I don’t.”
“I have a kid.” I raise a hand in the air. “How is she gonna believe you settled down with a single mum?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, I worded that wrong. It’s not that I don’t want them.
I was adopted. I’d like to follow in my parents’ footsteps and give a better life to a kid who really needs it.
” My breath picks up, West’s words hitting home in a way I wasn’t expecting. “I had a vasectomy at twenty-five.”
“She wouldn’t consider adoption?”
He shakes his head. “She always imagined carrying her own kids, and I respect that. I wouldn’t take that away from her. But I also wasn’t willing to give up what I knew in my heart was right for me.”
I like the way he speaks with such compassion for others without compromising his own sense of self. I can almost feel that confidence, that gentleness for life, reaching out and wrapping around me, inviting me to seek solace. To rest from the weariness I’ve battled for so long.
“So, you guys decided to end things?” No wonder she still seemed so hurt when we ran into each other. They didn’t fall out of love.
West draws in breath, a resigned smile on his face. “It caused many fights. She was convinced she could change my mind. One final blow-up ended in her sleeping with someone else. That was the final hurdle that showed we just weren’t meant to work.”
“How long ago did this all happen?”
“Five years,” he says, quickly adding, “I can assure you, there’s no unresolved feelings on my end.”
“So why the need for a date?”
I can see on his face it’s a question he’d rather leave unanswered. But I’m coming to learn that being upfront isn’t something Westley shies away from.
He looks down at his hands and spins the thick silver band around his pointer finger. “The last time I saw her we…”
I tug on the neck of my shirt, suddenly feeling hot. “You slept together?”
He looks up at me. A quick nod of agreement.
“So, I’m gonna be your glorified cock-blocker?” I laugh, ignoring the way my mouth turns dry at the thought. “Ohh, or pussy-shield?”
He smacks a palm to his face, but I can still see the twinkle in his eye that I secretly hope is just for me. “Don’t say cock and pussy. Jesus.”
“Why not? Does it turn you on?” When he looks at me, the unease melts away.
He shakes his head, rolling his lips together to hide his smile as he ignores my question. “What about this camp? What do you need me to do?”
I put my mug on the little table beside my chair, then shift back to the railing. With one hand gripping the post, I hoist my arse onto the concrete ledge. “Just act like a boyfriend who wants to be around. Whatever that looks like.”
“Fuck.” The harsh rush of the word has me turning my head back to West. He’s gripping the iron bars, leaning half his body over the railing. “Would you get down from there!?”
“What, are you worried I’m gonna fall?” I grin.
There’s thick concrete boxing in each of our balconies with a top railing.
I don’t know how West and mine have managed to look into each other’s.
I can’t see any of my other neighbours’ balconies.
Westley’s house is the only one without shared walls as well, and he sits slightly angled where the rest of us are in a neat row.
I wonder who his last neighbour was. Did he talk to them like this, too?
“I don’t have time to find another date.”
“Liar. You’re worried,” I tease, but I still jump down from the ledge. “Can I ask you a question?”
I see his grip ease from the bars, and his chest inflate with a breath. “We’re going to have to get to know each other better if we’re going to sell this. Hit me.”
“Why do you call me Trickster?”
He smiles. “I’m trying to figure you out, but you keep surprising me.”
I face him, bracing my hands on the bar, and lean forward. “A girl’s gotta keep a man on his toes.”
“Why do you call me Thief?” he throws back.
Because you keep stealing my thoughts.
I turn on my heel, an exaggerated sway in my hips as I move back to my bedroom door to turn in for the night. Before I go inside, I look over my shoulder, belly flipping when I catch his eyes on my arse.
“I can’t tell you all my secrets,” I say.
I can’t tell you any of them.