Fern
“Come here and let’s get a selfie. Then we can wish Neo a Merry Christmas, stop him worrying about me, and show him how good we look in these outfits.”
I held out my phone and clicked the camera button, snapping a photo of us.
Checking it was an okay shot and Charlie wasn’t pulling some weird face just to annoy me, I was strangely pleased with what I saw. Charlie was leaning in close, his stubble covered face dusting my jaw. Both of us were smiling, and Charlie’s rich brown eyes sparkled with his rock star charm as he stared at the camera. Without thinking too much about it, I attached it to a text to Neo and pressed send.
Charlie spun around, holding his arms out to the side. “How much will I offend your parents at lunch?”
I looked at his teal tracksuit bottoms hanging dangerously low and matching hoodie withAlchemy Myth - The Myth Makerwritten across the back.
“I’d say you’ll offend them enough that their faces turn purple and they don’t give us any eye contact. A sure sign they’re furious.” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to decide if I should wear it up or down. “What about me?” I turned and he let out a gasp, his hand landing over his mouth.
“What?” I cried.
“You look great, but have you looked at the back?”
I shook my head, moving to the mirror. I had on teal leggings with thick woolen black socks and an off the shoulder teal sweater that sat over a black vest top. I turned so I could see the back, but my hair covered it, so I twisted it up into a messy bun and wrapped a scrunchie around it. That was when I let out a loud snort. On the back, it readAlchemy Mythlike Charlie’s, but underneath in large letters it said Property of the Myth Maker.
“I’m going to rip his balls off and feed him them for lunch,” I muttered.
Charlie stepped in front of me, his eyes hooded, running his tongue over his top lip seductively before tugging on my sweater so my body crowded his. “Hey, I like owning you, Princess. It makes me hot.”
I shoved him hard, and his face changed instantly as he burst into fits of laughter. “Joke, Fern. Just playing the good boyfriend.”
“You’re an annoying dick. Now, let’s go make my family hate me even more than they already do,” I declared, holding out my hand, and I was glad when Charlie didn’t pause, linking his fingers with mine, pressing our palms together.
“Don’t let them get to you. If it gets too much, I want you to squeeze my thigh and I will step in.”
I paused with my hand on the bedroom door. “I think I like this version of you, Myth Maker. It’s a shame people don’t get to see it more.”
He stared at me, all of his bravado and cockiness gone. “It wouldn’t be special if I shared this side of me with everyone, would it?”
A knock on the door tore us both from the moment.
“Miss, your parents are waiting for you.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Come on, Princess.”
Charlie
I was having a stroke. My years of snorting questionable substances were finally taking their toll. I had slipped into a parallel universe in aSliding Doorsmoment. Something was going on. I wasn’t sure what, but something definitely was because when Fern tied her hair up, showing theproperty of the Myth Makerwritten across her back, my balls started to do weird things.
Fern was good looking. I’d always known that, but she wasn’t my type. At all. Although right now, my body had other ideas. And I wasn’t sure how to react. She was a firm no. Despite the fact my band’s record contract hung in the balance of this week going well, I liked to play around. I wasn’t a one woman man and Fern was definitely a one man woman. I imagined she was vanilla, enjoying missionary once or twice a month because she felt she should be having sex with her straight laced husband. My appetite was… fuck, my appetite was insatiable.
She’s not my type. She’s not my type. She’s not my type.
I repeated this again and again as we followed the maid downstairs, my hand firmly in Fern’s, pretending to be the perfect boyfriend while I persuaded my body that the thoughts I was having were totally wrong.Totally.
Walking into the formal dining room, we were met with a gasp from all sides. Fern’s dad stood abruptly, throwing his napkin to the table as he glared at us both. “What is the meaning of this, Fern? Go and get changed immediately.”
I heard her gulp as she tried to build her courage.
“They were a gift from our boss. It seemed rude not to wear them,” I answered for her and she offered me a small smile.
“Well, in this house, we dress for dinner. This is not acceptable. You look like a hooker,” James fired out, his face fixed with a look full of rage.
As if she’d caught some of my confidence, Fern stood tall. “Well, no one is going to die because I don’t have a full face of make up, so shall we stop making a fuss and eat?”
