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As I move some shirts to another section, I realise I never did this for Vanessa. We were together for two years, but we were only together when it suited her and, now that I think about it, none of that relationship was on my terms. It should make me feel like I was used, but I feel nothing but relief. I escaped a future with her. Yet, somehow the thought of a future with Zoey, however temporary, feels easier and more natural than it ever did with Vanessa.
My phone pings from where it’s sitting on my chest of drawers and I pick it up.
Zoey: Why does this feel like the craziest thing ever?
Me: It’s a little crazy, but I’m hoping you’ll see the rational side of things.
Rational being that we both get something out of this that benefits us… that’s not physical. Despite how tempting she proved she is in Vegas.
Zoey: We need a plan, and it has to be foolproof enough that my brothers believe it’s real
She’s considering it. A buzz of adrenaline surges through me as I type my response.
Me: Is this you saying yes?
Zoey: I’m definitely in the vicinity of saying yes.
I beam, typing furiously.
Me: I think we need accomplices, and we need people to vouch for us that we were secretly seeing each other before the surprise wedding.
I think for another minute before adding more.
Me: Aaron is out, he’s a blabber mouth. Nate probably wouldn’t want to keep the secret. Do you have close friends you trust enough with this?
Her reply is almost immediate.
Zoey: I do. I’d trust both of my girlfriends with this.
Me: What if you had to pick one?
Zoey: Probably Nora.
I don’t remember much about Nora, but I think she was a bridesmaid at Liam’s wedding last year.
Me: If you trust her, then I say let’s meet with her as soon as possible to figure all this out.
Zoey: Okay, I’ll message her.
Me: So, how do you feel about moving in with me tomorrow?
My pulse spikes at the thought of this coming together, and I realise Zoey will be the only woman I’ve lived with.
Zoey: We’re really doing this, aren’t we?
Me: Fuck yeah, we are.
Chapter 17
Zoey
AftertextingHarrisonlastnight, I passed out and now I’m rushing before he picks me up. To move. Into his house.
I think I left my sanity in Vegas because this feels crazy. I glance at my watch, that tells me I’m going to be late and I’m not nearly packed properly.
“Shit,” I haphazardly throw a bunch of my clothes in a bigger case than I took to Vegas, say RIP to my house plant that I’ve never been able to keep alive anyway and rush down to wait for him outside. I’m not ashamed of my little flat, but it is just that; small and crowded with my mess and until I can beg Seren to come over and help me clean and tidy, he cannot see it.
A sleek black DBX V8 comes curbside, the door swings open and Harrison exits the vehicle with such swagger that it makes my inner ho do a little twerk in my head. I let out a wolf whistle, and he smirks. “That is one sexy car, mountain man. How can I live out all the axe wielding, flannel wearing, truck driving fantasies of you if you drive a car that says boss man instead of mountain man?”
