Chapter 14 - Niall - Bumping into You
Chapter 14
Niall
A sharp rapping on the door catches my attention. I turn the shower off and grab my towel from the hook. Who’d be coming to my door?
After rushing to somewhat dry my hair with the towel, I wrap the towel around my waist and step out of the bathroom. The rapping starts up again, but it’s not coming from the hallway door. It’s coming from the connecting room. Having met with Gwen on the balcony yesterday, I know for a fact that door leads to her room. She did say she had a situation earlier; I hope nothing’s gone wrong. My concern that something might actually be wrong has me going against my good sense and heading to open the door in just my towel.
I quickly unlock the door and pull it open in front of me, hoping to somewhat block me from view. At the same time, Gwen’s hand reaches forward to knock again. She fumbles at the lack of door, but then pushes her way into the room, eyes down on the floor. Immediately, I can tell something is wrong. From the short time I’ve known her, I’ve learned she’s not one to avoid eye contact.
“Oh good, you’re here,” she says, looking out my balcony door. “I wasn’t sure since you didn’t answer right away.”
I’m momentarily stunned at her sudden entrance into my room while I’m still in my towel and nothing else . Then, I close the door connecting our rooms while reaching my other hand down to hold where the towel barely comes together. The towels here are much smaller than the bath towels I have at home. Gwen paces back and forth in the sitting room area, still not having looked at me.
“Want to share what you’re on about over there?” I ask. “Is the situation from earlier going okay?”
She stops pacing and turns around to face me. “Yes, everything is—” Her piercing eyes take me in, roaming over my body. Finally, her eyes meet mine and she audibly gulps. “You’re naked.”
I chuckle softly, raising my eyebrow at her. “You don’t say? Actually, I wouldn’t call it naked. I do have this lovely towel.” I motion with my free hand.
Her eyes briefly jump down to the barely-there towel and back up to my face. “Umm . . . the towels aren’t that big.”
“No, no, they’re not.” Her heated gaze causes things in me to stir. Trying to think about anything other than being practically naked in her presence, I adjust how I’m standing so she can hopefully not tell that I’m clearly attracted to her.
Get a grip, man.
“Why are you standing there in a towel?” she asks, her voice raising to mouselike levels of squeakiness.
“Well, you see, I was in the shower when I heard an urgent knock, so I quickly grabbed a towel and answered. And, well, here we are, standing in my room, me in this towel, and you over there.”
“Right,” she nods, and continues to nod, like a bobblehead. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Do I really make her feel that uncomfortable? I run my hand through my hair, water droplets falling as I do.
“So about your situation?” I ask.
“Just forget it, forget I said anything. I can’t believe I thought it was a good idea. I don’t know what has gotten into me.” She walks toward our adjoining door.
“What was a good idea?” I reach out and grab her arm softly with my free hand, the other still securely holding onto the towel. She stumbles and falls against my chest. I shouldn’t be noticing how right she feels against me. How perfectly we fit together. I try my hardest to rein in my thoughts as I right her.
“Gwendolyn, please look at me.”
“I can’t. Not when you’re like, well, like that,” she waves her hands blindly in my direction, clearly avoiding looking anywhere in my vicinity.
“Would it help if I put on something with a bit more coverage? Would you talk to me then?”
She nods, still avoiding eye contact.
“Okay, then turn around and don’t move.”
She turns to face the hallway door.
I move slowly toward my pile of clothes on the couch, making sure she won’t bolt to her room. Taking another quick glance to make sure she’s not looking either; I drop the towel. Her presence and my nakedness do nothing to help my attraction for her. I press against myself to calm things down, then slip on some boxers and grab a pair of joggers from off the couch.
“Okay, I’m decent. you can turn around.”
She turns, and her cheeks go red. “You said you were decent!” she exclaims.
“I am. I put on some pants,” I say in confusion.
“But not a shirt.”
Reaching behind me, I grab an exercise top off the side table and throw it on. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. So, what’s the story? Does it have something to do with the situation you were on about when we ran into each other earlier?”
“Huh? Oh, that. It was nothing,” she waves me off. “Dad’s just sick.”
“What? Is he okay?” I ask, instantly brought back to my mom in her hospital bed, hooked up to way too many machines. The memory makes my pulse race as my worry for Mr. Kenton increases.
“Oh, yeah, I gave him some Dramamine that I had in my emergency bag, so he’ll feel better soon.”
Okay, so he’s not sick, just seasick. I study her for a moment. Clearly something is weighing on her, but if not her dad, then what?
“How can you stand having your things all over the place like this?” Her hands wave around the living room area.
I survey my room and realize it is a bit messy, clothes scattered over the couch and dresser, shoes wherever I kicked them off. But it’s not like I was expecting company.
“You didn’t come here to talk about the cleanliness of my room, did you?” I ask, kicking a few of my clothes under the bed.
“Well, no. . . .”
“Grand. So, what brings you to my room?”
She stiffens for a moment before rolling her shoulders back. Her captivating beauty may catch the occasional eye, but it’s her spunk that draws me in.
“Okay, I’m just going to say it. This might sound crazy. Actually, I know this is crazy. But it’s the only way. I mean, I don’t want you to feel obligated to say yes. You can say no.”
Her rambling is making me confused. “Just ask, Rose,” I say, knowing my use of the nickname will snap her out of whatever this is.
“Fine,” she looks to the ceiling before rushing out, “I’d like to propose that we pretend to date for the duration of this cruise. Now that I know I’ll be seeing Bradley much, much more than I thought, I can’t let him find out that I lied about being in a relationship. It will make me look like a total loser. I know there really isn’t a reason for you to agree to this proposition, but I need your help and I already tangled you in my web of lies. Twice.” She lets out a deep breath.
I can tell it’s not easy for her to ask me this. Shifting on my feet, I think through her proposal. If we date—err, pretend to date—then we’ll be spending even more time together on the cruise, which is what I’ve wanted, isn’t it? I’ve been drawn to her since the first time I saw her in my rental car. And now, I’ll have a reason to be with her as much as possible. We’ll have a better chance of getting to know each other. And she’ll get to know the real me, not the me that is always slipping up and saying the wrong thing.
Fake dating would also be a very convenient way to keep the favor I’d promised Greg. I won’t have to put in much effort to convince Gwen to spend time with me. Not to mention, I’d be helping Gwen out of a stitch.
And most importantly, I’d be putting myself out there, like my mam wanted.
A smile stretches across my face at the memory of my mam. I’m going to keep my promise, mam, just like you wanted me to.
Fake dating Gwen sounds like a good thing all around. Although, I do need her to clarify a few things. “Before I agree to anything,” I say, “I need to know what the deal is with you and Bradley, like what would I be getting myself into per se?”
Gwen sighs, and after moving a hat off the corner, she lowers herself onto my bed. She’s quiet for so long that I don’t think she’s going to tell me anything, but then she looks up at me before finally speaking. The sadness in her eyes is gut-wrenching.
“I guess it’s fair that you know some of it,” she says, “if I’m asking you to fake date me and all that.”
I nod, encouraging her to go on.
“After two years of dating, living together for part of that time, Bradley broke up with me. I was completely blindsided. One minute, I thought we were going to get married and that he was going to propose soon, and the next, he broke up with me.”
“Feck,” I swear.
“He said it was because I put my work before him. But it’s not that I chose it over him. It’s that I started my own business from scratch. I had to make it a priority or else it would have failed. Funny thing is, our relationship ended up failing instead.”
She stands up and, with more energy in her voice, continues, “Being blindsided like that crushed me. That’s why I put so much effort into making sure every event I put on is perfect, that I don’t miss any details, because I am determined not to be blindsided again.”
The fiery personality that I am so attracted to is coming out once again. It’s seeing her this way that has me agreeing to her crazy proposal. That and the thought that my mam would love to see me with someone like Gwen. “I’m game,” I say.
“You . . . what? You are?” she asks, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
“Of course. Let’s give it a lash, can’t hurt.”
“Give it a what?” Her nose wrinkling at my words.
“A lash, er, a try. Let’s try. Can’t do worse than we’ve been doing, right?”
“Okay. Right. Then we need to come up with a plan, some rules. I don’t want to be winging this,” she says as she gestures between the two of us, “around Bradley and Tammy.”
Nodding, I sit down on one side of the couch. I move a piece of old toast off a side table and grab the complimentary notepad and pen that were lying beneath it. “Okay, what are the rules?”
Gwen walks over to the couch and looks at it. I glance over and quickly reach to pull the other articles of clothing into a pile and place them on the side table before she sits opposite me.
“Seriously?” she says, motioning to the pile of clothing.
I shrug. “I haven’t really settled in yet.”
Gwen takes a seat on the couch next to me. “Rule one: none of our friends can know we are in a pretend relationship. To them, it will just be like we’ve become good friends.”
“Why don’t you want them to know? You don’t think they’d understand and play along?” I ask, honestly confused at this request.
“I mean . . . I’m sure they would, but it’s . . . it’s just too embarrassing. I just can’t deal with them knowing this. Please, can we just keep it a secret?”
I can understand how Gwen could be embarrassed by this, not that I think she should be. And if I’m not telling Gwen about Greg’s request, it’s only fair that I not tell Greg about Gwen’s request. “We can keep it a secret,” I say.
“Thank you,” Gwen continues. “Also, I don’t want to hamper your style. I know you’re on vacation. So feel free to do whatever you planned on doing or to spend time with any woman you want during the cruise, just don’t let Bradley or Tammy see you with anyone else.”
“Not to worry. I came on this cruise for Greg and Holly, not to hook up with random women.” I scribble the first rule on the pad of paper, then say, “Rule two: you have to go on a few dates with me, just the two of us—as a fake couple, of course.”
“I don’t have time for that,” Gwen protests. “This cruise and wedding are important. Nothing can go wrong.”
But I can’t take no for an answer. Time alone together would not only show Greg I’m fulfilling his favor but would also give me the opportunity to secure my promise to my mam. It’s my chance to genuinely try to make a connection with someone. We have to go on these dates. I can’t fail my mam.
“I hear you. I do,” I say, “but it’s important that you have a little craic while we are on the cruise. It shouldn’t be all work and no play. This is your brother and best friend’s wedding, after all. You’re a guest as much as the wedding planner.”
“True, but mainly I’m the wedding planner. Who else is going to make sure everything is perfect?”
“This rule is a deal-breaker for me.”
“Why is it a deal-breaker? What’s it to you?” asks Gwen, tilting her head.
“Let’s just say, you have your reasons, and I have mine. And one of mine is that we spend time together as a fake couple. If you can’t agree to this, then we don’t have a deal.” I stare into her gorgeous hazel eyes, silently begging her to agree to my request.
Sighing heavily, she says, “Fine, we can go on a few dates. It will help our cover in case we run into Bradley and Tammy anyway.”
Nodding, I jot down the second rule: Go on some dates, just the two of us, as a fake couple.
“Rule three,” she glares at me then catches herself, shaking her head as she says, “I promise to not be too mean to you.”
“What if I like your spunky side?” I ask.
She grins but quickly hides it, raising her eyebrow at me. “Well, I’m not perfect so I’m sure that side will come out plenty. I’ll be busy with the wedding and cruise itinerary, and even in the short time I’ve known you, you’ve already distracted me too much. I just promise I will try to not act like I hate your guts while you’re pretending to be my boyfriend.”
“Ah, so I distract you then,” I say, a grin spreading across my face.
“No, ugh, you like riling me up, don’t you? Okay, rule four: you can’t rile me up.”
“Hey, a boyfriend would tease his girlfriend.”
“Fine, you can only do it when you are acting like my boyfriend. Otherwise, you have to try and be nice too.”
“Oh, I’ll be nice to you, no worries there.”
“Right. Well . . . we’re not really going to be dating, only pretending.”
I can see the insecurity in her eyes. It’s taking a lot from her to ask me for this favor. What she doesn’t understand is that any bloke in his right mind would jump at the chance to be with her. She’s snarky, tough, fiery, and drop-dead gorgeous.
“Grand. Any other rules? Because I’m not counting your rule three and four.”
“Fine, don’t add them. I have just one more then. When we’re around Bradley, we need to sell our relationship.”
“Okay, do you want to give me more details?”
“Um, it’s not necessarily a requirement, it’s just that . . .”
“Spit it out, Rose. We haven’t got all day. I’d still like to catch lunch before it’s time for dinner.” My eyes curl up with mischief because I think I know where she’s going with this. And my mind has been playing it on loop since she first asked me to fake date her.
“Well, it’s just, you know, Bradley can’t find out we’re fake dating, so we have to . . .”
“Make it look real?” I offer.
“Exactly.”
“So, what are you thinking? How real do you want it to look?”
“I mean handholding, being close to each other in public, hugs . . .”
“Kissing?” I question, heat pulsing straight through me at the thought of kissing her.
“Umm . . . only if absolutely necessary?”
I nod. “Okay, the final rule, rule number three, is when fake dating, PDA is acceptable but kissing is only allowed if necessary.”
“Right,” she nods.
“ Cúla búla .” I stand, reaching my hand out to her. She stands and takes my hand and shakes it to seal the deal.
“I should probably . . .” she looks over to the door connecting our two rooms.
“Yeah, sounds good. See you around, fake girlfriend,” I say, though I don’t let go of our handshake.
“Right. . . .” she says slowly, then, looking down and seeing our hands together, she lets go quickly, grabs the paper with the rules, and turns to walk back to her room. “I’m going to hold onto this. With how messy your room is, I can’t leave it up to you not to misplace it.”
I hear the lock of her door click and chuckle to myself. Well, this afternoon definitely took a turn. This is going to be the craic.