“I don’t drink during season, you know that, but they could post it during season and then, well, it can look so different. I don’t want to mess this up. I go out because I am bored out of my mind during the breaks… with Athena, well, I can help with her book, she can help my boredom.”
“This sounds like a romance book.” Anaïs sighs, hand pressed to her chest and my dad tuts. Her eyes slice to him and he smiles. “Babes, what has he got to lose?”
“Everything,” my dad admits.
“No, he hasn’t,” she counters and I face palm myself.
“Look, you’re welcome to your views, of course you are, but I am going to do this for me. It feels like the right thing to do.”
“You better go clear it with Nora.” Anaïs winks at me and my dad just shakes his head from side to side. “And Athena.”
“Of course,” I dip my head before looking at my dad. “Trust me.” My words escape softly and he inhales heavily.
“I do not want any drama, Royce.”
I hold my hands up in defence. “There will be none. Nora will make sure everything is done correctly.” I nod.
“What if Nora doesn’t agree?” Anaïs asks.
“Then I’ll do it anyway.” I laugh and push up from my seat, moving across and leaning down to give Anaïs a kiss on the cheek, then pat my dad on the shoulder.
Knocking on Nora’s door,she calls out before swinging it open. Her cheeks are flushed, her short dark hair slightly messy.
“Have I interrupted something?” I smirk, looking past her.
She shoves on my chest, pushing me further into the hallway. Glancing over her shoulder, she sneaks out then closes the door softly behind her as she stands in front of me.
“You’re dressed in a dressing gown… I am assuming that’s a yes.” She swats me and I laugh. “Ow, what was that for?”
“It’s not a big deal… don’t make it a big deal.”
“Not saying a word.” My brows knit as I look down at her. “Who’s in the room, Nora?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip. “It doesn’t matter, it’s just sex, that’s all.”
“Then tell me.”
“No.” Her cheeks flame and I laugh louder.
Nora is like a sister to me; I’ve always got on well with her. We have our moments, of course we do, but we get on ninety percent of the time.
“What do you want?” She changes the course of the conversation.
“I have an idea.”
“How long is this going to take?” She crosses her arms over her chest, her foot tapping impatiently.
“I want to fake date.”
Her eyes widen. “Royce, buddy.” She laughs nervously. “I love you, but no, no thank you.”
“Oh.” I chuckle. “No, I don’t mean you. I mean, the idea—I want to fake date. Keep me in line, make me be a good boy…no pressing issues for you to deal with. You can keep doing…” I pause, looking at the closed door. “Whomever you’re doing.”
She slaps me in the chest which only makes me laugh harder.
“No, seriously.” I rub the sting. “I want to clean my image up, and well, I put two and two together.”
“And got ten?”
