50. Chapter 50
Chapter 50
Charlotte
‘ W ell, well, well,’ Becky said in a droll tone, having left the kitchen to meet me at the door. ‘Look who just wandered in wearing last night’s clothes.’
Louise stepped into the entryway and took up a flanking position next to Becky, while Claire merely peered around the doorframe to the kitchen.
‘Becky,’ I said, rolling my eyes and staring pointedly at her pink, striped pyjama bottoms, ‘we’re all still in last night’s clothes.’
‘Details, details.’ Becky waved a hand dismissively, a smug smile twisting her lips. ‘So… how was it?’
‘How was what?’ I asked, feigning ignorance as I stepped out of my trainers and followed the smell of coffee into the kitchen.
‘ It !’ Becky said so exaggeratedly that I was sure that if I turned to face her, she’d either be wriggling her eyebrows or thrusting her hips to get her point across.
‘Okay, ew.’ Louise stepped past me, her hands flying up to cover her ears. ‘Can we not?’
‘Lou, I hate to break it to you—’ Becky paused, lifting a finger to her chin contemplatively. ‘Actually, I’m happy to break it to you, but from what I’ve heard, there probably isn’t a surface in that apartment that hasn't been christened… if you know what I mean.’ She was definitely wriggling her eyebrows.
‘Becky!’ I spun around, cheeks aflame.
‘What?’ She batted her lashes at me, the picture of innocence. Meanwhile, Louise had doubled over and was dry heaving next to the toaster.
‘You’re impossible,’ I muttered, shaking my head and turning back to the coffee machine. I was not dealing with any of this without caffeine.
***
‘So,’ Louise started, lowering herself to sit on the floor beside the coffee table, eyes on me, ‘what exactly is going on between you and my brother?’
‘N-nothing,’ I coughed, choking on a sip of coffee that had been forced down the wrong pipe by my constricting oesophagus. Three sets of raised eyebrows were aimed at me. ‘It’s nothing,’ I said again, setting my mug down on a coaster. ‘We’re just helping each other out.’
‘Helping each other out…’ Becky didn’t even try to hide her grin.
‘Yes,’ I groaned. ‘You know this! We’re pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend for the wedding and Christmas party.’
‘Uh huh.’ Louise nodded, picking up her tea and taking a small sip. ‘And whose wedding was it last night?’
My mouth opened and closed as words formed and died on my lips. Becky fell back into the sofa cushions, arms wrapped around her middle, as her cackle echoed through the apartment.
‘I—it—we—’ I stammered as they looked at me expectantly. ‘It’s just sex.’ I managed at last. ‘Nothing serious.’ This answer seemed to please everyone but Louise, whose brown eyes narrowed as she studied me shrewdly.
‘How often have you seen each other this past week?’
‘I don’t know,’ I laughed, but it sounded more strangled than I’d hoped. ‘Three or four times?’
‘Mm-hmm.’
‘It was for sex, Lou!’ I insisted, even as my cheeks warmed. ‘It’s not like he took me on a date!’
‘Would you want him to?’
My head whipped around to Claire, who had curled up in an armchair, Oscar purring on her lap, looking the picture of a bond villain. I could feel Louise’s and Becky’s eyes on me as they all waited for my response.
‘No,’ I answered, huffing out a laugh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I don’t.’ But even as I said it, my mind flooded with imagined possibilities—of holding hands and dates and chaste kisses on the way to work.
Louise pursed her lips, twisting her mouth to one side, but ultimately decided not to press any further. Instead, she turned towards Claire as they continued the debate they’d started the night before over who was better, Rochester or Darcy.
I leaned back in my seat, avoiding Becky’s watchful eye as I exhaled. Blowing out my breath like air being expelled from a balloon and ignoring how Claire’s question had caused something in my chest—something that felt a lot like hope—to bloom.