Chapter 16 #2
I shifted up in bed, frowning. ‘What?’ He never mentioned anything about hating crowds. I knew he preferred the quiet since he always chose the quietest pubs to drink in, tucking himself into a corner.
That same expression crossed Fallon’s face again. She shook her head, muttering to herself something that sounded like stupid man. Having enough of guessing, I opened my mouth to ask her what was going on when a sound like a door opening echoed from her end, and she turned her head.
Off-screen, Oliver started talking, his voice a series of low grunts and mumbles.
‘What’s so hard about getting a heated pool and a sauna?’
‘Everything!’ My voice rose. Fallon turned the screen to fit in Oliver, who looked startled momentarily before his manner shifted from irritation to accusation. He waggled a finger at me, forehead creased.
‘Have you seen my brother lately?’
I kept my expression neutral. ‘Should I have?’
Examining my features, he exhaled a weighty breath. ‘I’ve not seen him in over two weeks.
Fallon’s eyes widened out of the corner of the screen for a second before she grimaced. Now that expression I could decipher. My gaze flitted from hers to Oliver’s, who was staring at me with blistering intensity.
Shit. He didn’t know about the date… the fake dating. God, it was beginning to get fuzzy in my head.
Fallon hadn’t told him. Neither had George. The latter intrigued me.
The two brothers were close. Closer than most families I knew, close enough that it wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary for George to tell Oliver this. Fallon shook her head imperceptibly, steeling me with a pleading gaze.
‘Well, I’ve not heard from him recently.
’ It wasn’t a lie. If you stretched your interpretation of the word recently.
I hadn’t heard a peep in the past seven days, so it wasn’t a lie.
Fallon’s lips thinned, casting me a look I knew all too well.
Her scolding expression didn’t come out often, but when it did, she looked like a school teacher who knew you could do better.
Oliver sank back in the seat, eyes still narrowed on me. I got the distinct impression that he hadn’t quite forgiven me for worrying Fallon that night. Hearing that I was practice-dating his brother wouldn’t endear me to him.
My head was too much of a cluster fuck to worry about Oliver right now. Flicking my gaze back to Fallon, I gave her a half smile. ‘I’ll call you later, babe.’
She nodded. ‘Love you.’
‘You too.’
I sank back into the duvet. Roxy lifted her head, flopping it back to rest on my thigh and giving me a longing stare. My fingers threaded into her fur, scratching her behind the ears.
‘I don’t want to be the first one to call,’ I muttered glumly.
It was petty. I wasn’t used to being left hanging, wondering what the other person was thinking. Ugh, this is why dating sucked. And why, once I’ve won this bet, I shan’t ever put myself through this again.
That thought should have calmed the noise in my head.
I placed a hand on my chest, squeezing my eyes shut.
The feeling of drowning in my own thoughts and unravelling emotions crashed over me in a wave.
Sensing something was wrong, Roxy stood up and stepped onto my chest, her paws pressing down, easing the tightness slightly.
She flopped down, giving me all her weight.
Her tongue darted out to lick my face, and I let out a breathy chuckle.
Wrapping my arms around her, I snuggled her closer, burrowing my face into her fur. She took that as a sign that I was better and licked my face with renewed enthusiasm before rolling off my stomach onto her back, demanding belly scratches. I obliged.
Feeling moderately better, I picked up my phone and, without thinking too hard, started typing out a message.
Rosie: Why didn’t you tell Oliver we’re—
I paused, no idea how to finish that sentence. I deleted it, starting over.
Rosie: Did you forget we’re going away in two weeks with F+O?
Scanning the message for a fourth time, I gave up and sent it. Considering I hadn’t heard from him all week, I wasn’t expecting him to reply anytime soon. My heart did a stupid flutter when I saw three dots appear at the bottom of the screen.
George: I hadn’t. Had you?
Rosie: Yes. I’ve been a little distracted lately.
George: With what?
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, I responded,
Rosie: Work.
George: *eye roll emoji* That’s the best you can do?
He wanted flirty banter? After a week of no contact, after a kiss that left certain parts of my body unable to operate for a full twelve hours.
My legs could barely get me up the stairs of my building after I got out of his car.
It’s a sharp reminder of what this thing between us actually was.
He was helping out a friend. He didn’t have to agree to do this, but he did because that’s the kind of person George was; kind, loyal, and so fucking sweet it made my back teeth ache.
My dick-deprived brain was making this into something it wasn’t. Friends. He wanted me to flirt over text; I’d do it.
Rosie: Would you prefer me to talk about how my head has been filled with thoughts of your cock?
Silence. Three dots appeared, swiftly vanishing.
George: Flirting is usually more subtle, sweetheart.
Rosie: Terribly sorry. How’s this? (Just imagine it in a posh voice.)
Rosie: I’ve been utterly captivated by the consuming contemplation of your lower appendage.
George: My foot?
Roxy’s ears pricked up, startled at the sudden burst of laughter that punched from my chest.
Rosie: Yes, I’ve been utterly captivated by your foot.
George: You okay to go on the trip?
The sudden shift in conversation effectively stabbed a hole through my happy buzz.
Rosie: Why wouldn’t I be?
George: When we agreed to go, we weren’t, you know, doing this whole thing.
Good to know I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what the fuck to call us.
Rosie: This whole thing? You mean a friend helping out a friend?
I chewed on the end of my fingernail as I waited for his reply.
George: Yeah, that.
Rosie: I’m okay if you are.
It took a few seconds for his next message to appear.
George: I’m okay.
Why did it feel like we were as far from okay as we ever were?