I really hope this doesn’t ruin our weekend beyond repair. Shouldn’t I be running around making memories with my best friend? Not this stranger I met on the first day?Who might also coincidentally be the most infuriating man in existence?
But I already know I can’t willingly let go of the stick. I can’t part with it when it’ssoclose to being mine.
‘Hennie.’ I look to her with the plea in my eyes. ‘Would you be alright with this? If–’
She waves a hand. ‘If you’re happy, it’s a no-brainer. I’m actually starting to think that the second you let go of that thing you might start screeching and turn into dust.’
‘Are you sure?’ I ask more quietly.
She nods and leans closer to me to whisper, ‘Let’s do it. It’ll be weird and hilarious.’
I didn’t need further evidence that I’d perish without this woman, but here is some anyway.
She steps between him and I, addressing him coldly. ‘I’ll be taking your details and if you come anywhere near crossing aline with her or trying to take it and bolting, I’ll deal with you accordingly. I’m not fucking around. Part of the deal, okay?’
He nods sharply and even looks a bit frightened. ‘Of course.’
‘One last question: what if we’re both still holding onto it by the end of Sunday?’ I ask.
He regards me coolly. ‘I seriously don’t think that will be the case.’
Well, for what it’s worth, neither do I.
3
Inever asked for a nemesis, but I suppose now I have one.
And I definitely didn’t request one with such horribly, distractingly beautiful eyes. So pretty that I’m making a constant effort to try not to look directly at them. (Given he’s my nemesis and nemeses should not engage in such thoughts.) But they might be the brightest shade of blue I have ever encountered. If I saw this man on a dating app, I would have believed him to be some kind of bot, catfishing poor single women like me into thinking I might be in with a shot – he is that painfully handsome. Annoying.
It’s a shame that he makes me want to rip my hair out, and has possibly disagreed with every single thing I’ve ever said. And stolen from me. All within the first five minutes of meeting him.
Resisting the urge to kick him,I decide to try to push my point.
‘Well, in the case that youarewrong – impossible for you to imagine probably, but stay with me – and we’re both still holding onto it at dusk on Sunday, what happens to decide the owner? Arm wrestle? Thumb war? See whoever does the best jig?’
Hennie snorts beside me. He runs his free hand through his hair again, looking bemused. ‘Sure, let’s go with that.’
‘Which one?’ I falter. ‘I’m not sure what a jig entails, if I’m honest.’
‘We’ll look it up,’ he says mildly. ‘I’m curious to see how you’d pull it off.’
I pause, unable to prevent the frown growing on my face. ‘This really isn’t a joke? We’re both going to be that stubborn and not let go?’
His eyes sweep over me once more, hesitating. For a second, he seems unsure of himself. ‘I suppose so.’
I huff an exasperated laugh at the situation. This could potentially end very badly. The image of me having a panic attack enters my mind; he would have no choice but to witness it from a foot away. I am opening myself up for total disaster.
I can’t help myself though. For reasons I can’t really explain, I’m curious to see how this deal might play out.
‘Alright, with no other option to win my stick with honesty and integrity, I see no other way. Let’s do it,’ I say.
With no idea what I’m really doing, I stick my free hand toward him over the top of the drumstick.
He observes my outstretched hand with a raised brow. ‘Really?’
‘Come on, it’s what people making a deal do. They shake hands.’
Rather unexpectedly, he chokes out a laugh and turns his face upwards to the heavens, as if he’s cursing the Firecrest gods for attaching his existence to mine. His eyes capture me again, and he lifts his hand to shake mine awkwardly over the top of our already attached other limbs. I battle the urge to break his wrist.
