Page 21

COREY

“What the fuck is up with you?” Oz asks after seeing his afternoon client out of the studio.

I wasn’t aware that how I was feeling was written all over my face.

“I’ve got a date tomorrow night,” I admit.

“Yes, man. Get in there. Wait … why is that making you look like someone just drowned your puppy?”

“I’ve never been on one before, let alone planned one.”

“Huh.” He drops down on the sofa in front of me and puts his feet up on the coffee table. “So, I’m assuming you want to end the night fucking this girl?”

I open my mouth to respond. Usually, I wouldn’t hesitate in giving anyone the details of my plans for ending the night, but with Harlow in mind, it seems wrong.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Oh fuck, man,” he says excitedly.

“W-what?”

“She’s got you fucking whipped. Is this the girl Snake was telling me about?”

Fucking hell, I forgot those two spend their time gossiping like they’re at a fucking Women’s Institute meeting.

“Yes,” I admit reluctantly.

“So, is she your forever girl, or what?”

I sit forward, my eyes wide. “Definitely or what . There is no forever girl for me. I don’t sign on to that shit.”

“That’s what we all say, until she sucks you in and never lets go.”

I think about just how tight she sucked me in on Saturday night. She definitely made her mark on me, that’s for sure.

“Anyway, what’s she like? Is she a party-all-night kinda girl or a quiet, romantic dinner and stroll on the beach kind?”

“Dinner and beach,” I say without even having to think about it. I might have met her twice in a club, but anyone with eyes could tell it’s not her ideal night out.

“Find a nice restaurant, something fancy. Treat her. Then take her to the beach once the sun is setting and see what you can get in the dunes.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Is that how you got JJ?”

He barks out a laugh. “No, that girl wouldn’t know romance if it hit her in the face.”

I can’t really say I’m surprised; she definitely isn’t the kind who’d expect flowers every Friday night. “Glad I didn’t ask her, then.”

“You’d get nowhere, man.”

The door chimes and Oz’s next client walks in.

“You need any more help, just shout.” I nod as he walks off to his room, trailing behind his client.

My head falls back on the cushion. I feel totally out of my depth right now.

If it were anyone else, I’d have bailed, but there’s something about Harlow.

Even after not seeing her for four days, my skin still tingles with awareness when I think about our parting kiss.

There’s no question in my mind that I want to spend more time with her.

I just somehow need to figure out a way to not let her get the wrong idea about what I want.

I’m all for enjoying ourselves, but there will be no serious future between us.

I don’t do promises, and I certainly don’t do forevers.

I’m still in the dark as to what to do when evening rolls around, and if I weren’t so desperate to see her again then I’d have cancelled already.

Oz texted me some restaurants to check out after his client left, and when I looked them up, my eyes almost popped out of my head at the prices.

I can’t afford shit like that, no matter how incredible Harlow might be.

By the time I finish up for the night, I’m not exactly in the mood to head to my aunt and uncle’s for a family dinner I agreed to weeks ago.

I call myself an Uber and head to their side of town.

They live in the picture-perfect house with a wraparound porch and swing seat out the front.

White picket fence and all. It’s the exact kind of upbringing I’m sure I’d have loved.

My aunt and uncle are both incredibly kind and gentle people—unlike my father who’s an uptight, controlling arsehole.

I walk up their driveway to find my uncle’s arse sticking out from their campervan.

“Corey, there you are. Sandy was starting to think you’d bailed on her lasagne.”

“Never,” I say with a laugh, thinking of the home-cooked food I’m desperate for.

He pulls me in for a one-armed man hug, allowing me to see the inside of the camper. It’s almost in its original state. It’s like a time-warp.

“Whoa, this is impressive,” I say, continuing to look around.

“Yep, she’s a beaut all right.”

“You getting ready to take her out?”

“I wish. We haven’t had a chance to get away in months. I feel guilty she hasn’t moved an inch off the drive.”

Ideas start popping up in my head, but when my aunt spots me from the kitchen window and comes running from the house to pull me into her arms, I soon get distracted.

“It’s so good to see you,” she cries as she flies at me.

She’s a petite woman, and her arms barely close around my middle as she holds me.

“The LA sun looks good on you, boy.”

With one final look at me, she pulls me inside, telling me that Milo is already here. We find him in the kitchen, prepping a salad to accompany the lasagne. This house is covered in his accolades, from winning a championship in high school to the day he got drafted to his dream team.

It’s clear how proud of Milo they are, and it makes my heart ache every time I see it.

No matter what path Milo chose in life, they’d have supported him without question.

“Hey man. How’s it going?”

“It’s good. Quiet. Looking forward to the season starting and getting back at it.”

“You’re gonna kill it. Gonna watch you lift that trophy, man.”

“Here’s hoping.”

Spending time in this house is a reminder of the kind of family life I’d have loved as a kid but never got to have.

We never had one home. We were dragged from military base to military base, mostly across Europe, wherever Dad was posted, and we just had to make the best of it—until we started secondary school.

Then, we were abandoned in London at a private school and mostly left to do our own thing.

There were certainly no family dinners or enjoying each other’s company after that.

We sit and chat as the food is laid on the table, and I eat as if I haven’t done so all week, much to their amusement.

We chat about our lives, and they ask about the studio as if they really care. It makes me regret not wanting to come. I always tell myself it’ll be just like being with my family, but it’s never anything like it, and I always enjoy their company.

“Did you have fun at Milo’s birthday Friday night?” my aunt asks.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Milo muses, his eyes locked on me.

A knowing smirk appears on his lips, ensuring his parents give me the same attention.

I was waiting for this. Not for a second did I think that Brooke would have been able to keep her mouth shut about Harlow and me spending time together.

“Oh?” both my aunt and uncle say at the same time.

“How is the lovely Harlow?”

“I … uh …” My aunt’s eyes widen at the possibility of me finding a girlfriend. “I haven’t seen her since Sunday.”

“So I heard. I also heard that you’ve got a date tomorrow night and that she has no idea what you have planned.”

“She’s not the only one,” I mutter as they all stare at me. “I was actually going to ask you for a favour,” I say, looking at my uncle.

“Go on.”

“You said your camper hasn’t been out. I wondered if I could possibly borrow it?”

He opens his mouth, I’m assuming to deny me his beloved baby, but my aunt beats him to it.

“Of course, sweetheart. It’s just sitting on the driveway doing nothing.”

My uncle narrows his eyes at his wife, but all she does is laugh.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” She winks at me. “These two can do the washing up.”

A few hours later, I leave my aunt and uncle’s house, driving his beloved camper with a smile on my face.

This is going to be perfect.