“We should.” Maevyn nods, then holds up a finger. “Just one moment.”
She lays her palm flat against my chest and pushes me back slowly, walking until I’m pressed into the kitchen counter.
“Did you need something?” Maevyn calls to the room, and I look around, confused, until Aurora pops her head up from behind the couch with a grin.
“Oh, hey guys, didn’t see you there.”
I jump back. “What the?”
Maevyn smiles at me as she nods to her daughter. “She has a tendency to eavesdrop, and I’m convinced she can teleport.”
“Hmm. Tricky, just like her mother, it seems,” I mutter.
Aurora climbs over the back of the couch, flouncing over to the kitchen, and sits on one of the barstools. The purple headphones hanging around her neck are still playing whatever music she was listening to. It sounds whimsical and upbeat, bringing a smile to my face. “Hi, Aurora.”
“Hey, Westley.” Aurora beams at me, before shifting her attention to her mother, then to me again. “Am I interrupting?” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Is this a grown-up talk?”
“No.” Maevyn comes to stand beside me. “Actually, we’re in a bit of a situation, and it’s gonna need your support.”
Aurora places her elbows on the counter, steepling her hands together. “Well, you see, when two grown-ups like each other—”
“Not that,” Maevyn fires back, wearing an exasperated look I’ve been on the receiving end of a few times, but it just seems to make Aurora chuckle.
I’m transfixed by their dynamic. I already assumed that Maevyn must have been young when she got pregnant, but it seems to have worked well for her. Anytime I catch a glimpse of them together, they’re playful and at ease. It only makes me wonder what their life was like before Heart City.
“Westley was outside Parlour Tricks and ran into an ex. He needed me to pretend to be his girlfriend to save face.”
My jaw drops, horrified. “It wasn’t to save face!”
“Then why did I have to play your girlfriend?” Maevyn asks, leaning a hip on the bench to face me.
“I just didn’t want to look available.”
Maevyn and Aurora exchange a silent glance that says,I call bullshit.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “The point is, now your mum needs to play my girlfriend at a wedding in a few weeks.”
“And in exchange, he’s going to be your dad,” Maevyn says, looking at Aurora.
I lean down, moving my face in front of hers, while she does her best to avoid looking directly at me. “Excuse me? You said you needed a second person for some camp.”
“Why do I need a dad?” Aurora asks.
“Apparently, the stick those PTA mums take turns shoving up their arses makes them unable to detect sarcasm,” Maevyn says.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Shit. I turn to Aurora. “Sorry. I swore.”
She shakes her head. “Dude, you’re good. Mother, explain.”
Maevyn groans and stalks over to the fridge, pulling out hamburger patties, an avo, and a tomato. “Every time that queen bee, Lydia, comes over to talk about school shit, it’s all, ‘We lovebothparents to get involved’ and ‘We do hope Aurora’sfatheris interested in her education.’” She drops the food on the counter in outrage. “Like, what if he died? What if I were a heartbroken widow?”
“Okaaayyyy.” Aurora rolls her wrist, encouraging her mother to continue in her nonsensical rambling.
“So, when they asked if your dad would be coming, I said yes.”
“Muuuum,”Aurora groans.
“I know.” Maevyn whimpers dramatically. “In my defence, it was dripping in sarcasm. Her detection filter is just broken.”
