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Chapter 35

‘The look on everyone’s faces earlier, when you strode into the ramshackle hall wearing a tight black sequined tango suit with a rose between your teeth. And it wasn’t even tango night.’ Alyssa’s laugh came right from the depths of her stomach and rolled across Devan’s bare chest.

They were lounging on his sofa watching another romcom, draped in blankets, a plate of peanut butter and jam sandwiches balanced on Devan’s stomach as they hadn’t fancied cooking.

‘I knew it wasn’t tango night,’ said Devan. ‘I was just trying to make it up to you for not being there. I had a message I needed to look into, then I got a bit carried away with outfit shopping.’

‘Nooooo,’ Alyssa joked. ‘Anyway, thank you for not outing us as a couple, just yet. I need more time.’

Alyssa was still feeling guilty that she was relying on his good nature not to declare their relationship, when most people in their situation would be happily sharing the news. Was it rude of her to still be pretending she was devoid of feelings for him and that his software creation couldn’t work?

‘I guess a tiny part of me was trying to rebel against being dependable Devan today too – but I couldn’t stick it. I must like my nice-guy persona.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s a role I’ve fallen into, or maybe it’s part of who I am. But as long as that’s not all I am to people, then I’m comfortable with it.’

She gave him a squeeze, trying to ignore the creep of her conscience. ‘Dependable sounds better than Good Old. As long as I sometimes get a glimpse at Very Bad Devan.’ Her fingers traced down towards his belly button, making their plate of sandwiches wobble.

‘Oh, he’ll be here.’

She heard the hitch in his voice.

‘And how about you?’ he asked gently, placing a hand on top of hers to slow its trajectory. ‘Are you happy with the role you’re still playing?’

‘How do you mean?’

He looked like he was choosing his words carefully. ‘I know you’ve been a lot more yourself around Hartglove recently. But with your Instagram image, your latest photos are still about curly kale salads and running up hills in designer Lycra. Both worthy pastimes, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you do either on purpose.’ He pointed to their various snack packets. ‘People would still accept you if they knew you watched cheesy movies and were partial to a crinkle-cut crisp. And if they don’t, are they worth bothering about?’

‘Would they though?’ She picked at the corner of her sandwich. ‘When you build your business and reputation online, people have to choose you. I need to look like I have my life together, so I can help others do the same. Who would pick a coach who’s so undisciplined that she lives on junk food and trash TV? Nobody wants a Beryl. As Alyssa Heart, balanced, successful woman with an array of uplifting quotes and firm beliefs, people take notice. They choose to follow me.’

Even as she said it, she knew it sounded a bit pathetic. Likes and shares on social media didn’t hold much meaning, but she needed them if she wanted to cling on to her respectable love coach status.

‘Whoa.’ Devan broke through her thoughts. ‘Plenty of people chose you as Beryl Bagnor – and still do. The people who know you in real life and who flipping love hanging around with you, whether it’s digging over a field with a tiny trowel and a shit wheelbarrow, eating dry crackers in a tent or getting to do this.’

He cupped her face and leaned down towards her, giving her a kiss that sent shockwaves to her toes.

‘Well, if nothing else, your app has given me some interesting new pastimes I could post about,’ Alyssa said with a smile, when she came up for air. ‘I’m not boring Beryl anymore, and I don’t have to pretend to have hobbies when I have all these new ones – from obsessing over hardy vegetables to cuddling stray cats.’

‘That’s all you’re giving my app credit for?’ He raised his eyebrows.

‘Oh, and throwing me together with this really hot guy, who looks adorable in a Save Hartglove top and is no longer just the stuff of dreams.’

And to break with tradition, he wasn’t a man she’d chosen for convenience.

They watched as the closing montage of happy-together romcom moments appeared on the TV screen, filling the room with light and laughing faces.

‘It’s getting tough, pretending we’re not together in front of people, when all I want to do is hold you,’ said Devan. ‘How long are we going to keep this up? I’m not sure I can get through tango night and our dance, without the urge to kiss you like I mean it.’

Hmm. Getting up close and personal with Devan on tango night, pretending she didn’t want to tear off his tight sequin outfit with her teeth and that her heart wasn’t falling for him would be a struggle.

‘You just want your app to win the bet,’ she joked.

‘I care more about us, than any of this mission. We could stop the tasks, if you want. Just be together, without winners or losers.’

She pondered it – but she was not a quitter. ‘We’ll see it through.’

‘Even if we’re faking it? Pretending we don’t care about each other?’

He had an endearing way of asking things without loading them with guilt, which made the pretence feel so much worse.

‘Who’s going to employ my services as a love coach if a free phone app can fix them? And it’s not about winning or losing. It’s about me not ballsing up my career. It’s a lot to think about.’