“What! No, I’d be a terrible teacher. I can’t even imagine.” I chuckle. “Plus, it’s so weird thinking of doing it in front of people I know.”
“That’s because you care what we think. Women’s natural instinct is to think other people are judging them for the less-than-perfect things we judge ourselves for. Self-love and self-confidence will cure all that ails you. Why do you think I’m so hot?” She winks at me as I laugh.
She’s right, though. I am in charge of the outcomes of my life, of what I draw in and what I put out. My whole adult life has been spent second-guessing everything I do, just hoping my actions don’t force my past to collide with my present, or stifle my future. Some days, it’s easier to convince myself I’ve put enough distancebetween me and my parents, knowing my dad’s away and Mum’s stayed quiet in rehab. Royal says she’s never once reached out to the people of her past, and I have to hope that includes me. But then there are other days I remember the people they were mixed up with, and what I saw. I wonder if they know it was me who dobbed them in.
Royal assured me that no one would find me, that he’d keep an eye on my old life in case he got wind of anything changing. So far, he’s held up that promise.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Awesome, it’s a date!” Claire smacks a kiss to my cheek. “Now, let’s go back to your fake boyfriend.”
I groan and melt over the desk. Maybe swoon is a better word for what I do, because my hot neighbour has some sort of voodoo power over me.
I peek through one eye. “I didn’t know men could be dominant and sweet.”
Claire’s eyes roll back in her head as she fans herself. “Ughhh, tell me about it. He fucks my arse with a toy, then kisses my forehead? Don’t even get me started on the backwards cap. I swear, every time Leif puts that damn hat on, I start ovulating.”
“Ohhhh, thank you!” I sit up again. “Westley had his hat on the other week and then flipped it backwards. My knees almost gave out!”
“So, what happens now? Are you guys still ‘fake dating’?” she asks with air quotes.
“I don’t know.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket, hoping for a text from West. Not for any other reason than I want to hear from him, but there’s nothing. “We don’t have any more reasons to fake things, but after the weekend…”
“Yes?”
“He told me to write a list.”
“Is this like my bitchy mums list?”
I shake my head, rolling my lips in to hide the smile. “A sexual to-do list.”
“Like things you want to try?”
I nod, sipping my mocha again.
Claire sits up straighter, tapping a finger to her lips. “Ohh, maybe I’ll do one of those.”
“Do you even have things left you can add to a list?” I laugh, knowing Claire is extremely experienced and confident in the bedroom.
The smirk she gives me is so sinister, I almost feel a little scared for her boyfriend.
“You know what I’ve never done?” she asks, and I shake my head. “Given a private strip dance, particularly one that ends in a happy ending.
“You know, mine have never ended that way either.”
“Let’s both put it on our list and report back.” She holds her coffee cup up to me, and I clink mine against it.
“Deal.”
“So, he told you to write a list of things you could try together?”
I nod.
“Use that to clarify the setup. Maybe give yourself a timeline to complete it or come to some friends-with-benefits terms.”
It’s smart in theory, but the problem is, I don’t think I want an arrangement with Westley.
Everything we did over the last few weeks to prepare for this charade doesn’t feel like something you just toss away as some insignificant pastime. He’s still my neighbour, so it’s not like we can just go our separate ways. He’ll still be there as a constant reminder of everything new I’ve uncovered about myself, and I don’t think it’s a part of myself I want to lock away again.
