Page 14
We could meet up after dinner, I said, my fingers flying across the screen. I could meet you by my car and we could talk there.
No can do, he replied, and my heart sank. I take my fake dating seriously. Proper date or nothing.
I didn’t reply, shoving my phone back in my pocket when the conversation trailed away, now conscious my cheeks were bright red, something Millie noted with a smug smile.
Well, there was someone in this family I could quiz without obligation and that was my bestie, so I focussed on finishing my dinner quietly.
“Well, that was lovely,” Angus said with a big stretch. “I guess I better start on the dishes.”
“We’ll do it.” I shot to my feet and then stared pointedly at Millie. “Won’t we, Mills?”
“Oh, I was going to try to get a swim…” That sparkle in her eyes made clear she knew exactly what she was doing. “After the dishes.”
“I better put all the food away,” Heather said.
“It’s fine, Mum.” Millie gave her shoulder a squeeze. “We’ve got it.”
“Just make sure?—”
“We cover everything in cling film and don’t stack the meat above the vegetables in the fridge.”
Once Heather was satisfied, we moved around the table picking up plates, Millie taking her parents’, leaving me to clear away her brothers’. I’d done this a million times before, so why did I feel like I had three sets of eyes on me as I picked up each plate? Only one person could tell me, I thought, as I beat a hasty retreat into the kitchen.
“Any reason why you’re volunteering us to be dish pigs?” Millie asked as I started running the tap to rinse the plates for the dishwasher.
“Oh, I think you know.” I wrenched open the dishwasher and then looked up at her. “A lot more than you’re letting on.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said, scraping scraps into the compost bin.
“Millie…”
“Jamie…”
I’d held this girl’s hair back when she spewed more times than I could count, helped her with her homework when I could, or just whinged along with her when we struggled to write yet another essay. I’d held her when she cried like her heart would break and she’d done the same for me, something I reminded her of right now, which wiped the smile away and replaced it with something far more heartfelt.
“I know what your mum’s like,” she said, putting a hand on one hip. “I know what kind of pressure she puts you under and how much drama there is when you push back. You needed three guys to pretend to be your boyfriends…”
I leaned forward.
“And?”
“And my brothers are all single. They’re good guys…” She frowned slightly as she stared out the glass sliding door. “Even Hunt, the self-absorbed prick. I could’ve hit up some of the guys at the pub, but seeing as they work for me, that makes things ethically a bit dodgy. But you know what’s got your knickers in a twist?”
“What?” I put my hands on my hips.
“You’re just not used to a bit of male attention. It’s been months since you’ve gone out with any guys other than the blokes you work with. You slept with that hot backpacker a month ago, so at least I know your hymen hasn’t grown back.”
“Jesus, Millie?—”
“You had to try and become one of ‘the boys’ to survive life as an apprentice,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “Being one of the few girls in your year at trade school, you couldn’t afford to take my advice?—”
“And sleep with all the hot ones?” I shuddered. I had nothing against girls that did, because there were a few that took full advantage of all that male attention, but the comments afterwards… Men could be such bitches, gossiping like a bunch of old ladies about who they scored with.
“You’re surrounded by men who treat you like you’re a guy, and you’re just feeling jumpy because my brothers aren’t. It’ll be OK.” Her hands landed on my shoulders. “I’ll read them the riot act, make sure they look after you properly. Shit, maybe this will be a whole fake-it-before-you-make-it thing. You can learn to be cool with men treating you like a woman for once with my brothers, before you meet someone you really like.”
“Thanks. Looks like I’m going to practise that by going to a product launch and a bloody wedding.” I let out a huff of breath, then turned back to the dishes. “I pretended I had multiple boyfriends to avoid weddings.”
“Or maybe they’re just doing you a favour because you’re a part of this family.” Her eyes bore into mine. “That’s what real families do, right?”
Table of Contents
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- Page 14 (Reading here)
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