Page 24 of Date Knight (Roll for Romance #2)

Phil

I was genuinely uncertain how I’d made it through life without a fake girlfriend before.

Amy started coming over almost every day, sometimes hanging out with Ethel whilst I did other things, and sometimes doing the other things so I could actually spend time with Ethel instead of just moving her around from place to place.

I was getting so much more done. The costumes were actually getting finished thanks to Amy’s mediocre but invaluable hand-stitching skills, and honestly, they only needed to last a day anyway.

The house hadn’t looked so tidy since I’d moved back in with Ethel after uni, and Amy had even been driving us to appointments since it was easier for Ethel to get in and out of the Defender than the Fiesta.

She’d been adding more crystals to the windowsill too, a new one in hand almost every time she came over, and the light would hit them just right each afternoon, casting beautiful colours onto the carpet and tablecloth. It was like she was making our life brighter even when she wasn’t there.

I’d also been able to do three paid jobs in one week, the most I’d done in months, usually working across the small dining table in the bay window from Amy as she worked for her dad.

I’d now earned enough for the rental Fatima had found in Manchester for the fantasy ball.

It was turning out to be an expensive summer, though at least now I was splitting the accommodation costs with Amy.

I was excited for the ball, actually, not least because I’d be there with Amy.

But I also knew that our little arrangement was due to end shortly after, once her trial with her dad was up and she had gotten a permanent job with him.

Which, of course, I had no doubt she would do– she was talking about it nonstop, and I could tell she genuinely enjoyed it.

But I knew it would crush me to have to break up, even though we weren’t actually together.

I was tired of censoring myself around her, having to pretend that I didn’t feel all the things we were pretending to have between us.

I’d even found myself thinking about what to get her for Christmas before remembering we’d be long broken up by then.

So yeah, thinking about the ball was already bittersweet.

And besides, I hadn’t even finished the outfits for the fantasy festival next week, and already the girls were sending me inspiration pictures for their ballgowns. My fingers ached at the thought.

“Just tell them no,” Amy said from where she sat cross-legged on the floor one afternoon, stitching the hem of Grey’s tunic. “You’ve made so many for them over the last year. Can’t they just reuse them?”

I laughed. “Yeah right. Rewear the same dress to multiple photographable occasions? Plus, Morgan’s the only one I’ve made a gown for before. Nothing else is dressy enough.”

“Not even this?” She nudged the red sequin abomination poking out of the middle of the pile that had accumulated between us as we worked.

It was Chloe’s Fairy Godmother dress for the day we were all going as Shrek 2 characters– Grey as the titular ogre, Fatima as Fiona, Jack as Charming, Morgan as Puss in Boots, and me as Donkey.

I’d even managed to whip up a Dragon costume for Amy, though I’d never admit to her how much that had added to the task of finishing the lot.

“It’s a bit campy, isn’t it?”

Amy shrugged. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She looked around the pile a bit more. “What about this one?” She pulled out a pale pink draped dress, which had taken me a painful amount of time despite its simplicity.

“Her yassified Witch-King of Angmar outfit?”

“Whatever that is.” She tossed it to the side. “My point is, you’ve done so much for them. If they don’t have something to wear out of the wardrobes you’ve made them so far, they can buy something.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, but I wasn’t so sure how it would go down. I knew nobody would be actually angry at me for saying no, but making costumes and baking for D&D nights had been my main contributions to the group for so long.

But I knew Amy was right, too. I couldn’t keep doing this. And just over a month and a half wasn’t enough time to make gowns for a fantasy ball. So maybe this was the thing that needed to give.

I tried to picture what I could do with all the energy I’d been throwing into costumes over the last few weeks, and beyond a good long nap, my imagination was only filled with things Amy and I could do together.

Maybe it was her near-constant presence, or maybe it was because we hadn’t done anything super couply lately.

But I cut myself off from going down that route, like I always did, because it only ever led to one type of imagining.

And I saved that for when I was alone, and she was far enough away that I couldn’t get myself into any trouble.

Plus, I knew that realistically there would be plenty to fill that time.

Hell, before Amy had started coming around more, the house had gotten so filthy I’d almost been too embarrassed to let her in.

And then there was the inevitable truth that Ethel’s mobility and independence would continue to decline…

“I think you’re right,” I said, and she smiled the shit-eating grin I’d learned was reserved for when she was proven correct. “I’ll tell them tonight that they can buy their own outfits, and Atelier Owen is on hiatus.”

“But not for me,” Amy said, and I knew instantly that she was joking. “I still need something fabulous as payment for all my flesh wounds.” She held up her thumb, which was wrapped in a plaster from where she’d stabbed into it enough times with the needle to constitute a proper wound.

“You can fuck right off,” I said, making her laugh, and I relished the sound as it bounced around the bright lounge.

But little did she know, I did have plans for her.

Plans that involved breaking my new “no corsets” rule.

Plans for a dress so perfect that seeing her in it would almost certainly make my life– amongst other things– much harder, given that she wasn’t actually mine.

But I couldn’t get the idea out of my head.

Now I only had to figure out how to pull it off without her noticing.

* * *

That Saturday, Anil texted me to say that his class had been cancelled again, so he was free for the evening if I needed him.

I didn’t even hesitate before taking him up on it.

I was excited to go out with Amy, but I also needed a bit of time with Chloe.

She’d declared that she just wanted to do something basic for her birthday– Jack had suggested an escape room, and she’d accepted with zero thought– which was extremely uncharacteristic.

Something was off, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.

As soon as I’d texted Amy to let her know we’d be going out, I gave Chloe a buzz.

I knew she’d likely be playing video games at any given moment, so she was one of the only non-medical-provider people in the world I would ring instead of text.

Otherwise, I’d have to wait for a save point to get a response.

“Yo,” she said on answer, and I could hear what I was pretty sure was the Silent Hill 2 soundtrack in the background. “What’s up?”

“You and Lauren still on-again?”

“For now,” she said with a huff that told me it might not be that way for long. “I could do with a third-party opinion, but all we ever do is play games and fuck.”

I could have done without that image. “Well, how about tonight? Double date?”

The music stopped, and I figured she’d paused the game. “Wait, really? Because Lauren and I are already supposed to hang out later. Don’t you get my hopes up.”

“Yeah,” I said, shrugging as if she could see it. “Anil’s free to stay with Ethel, so let’s go out the four of us.”

“You beautiful bearded bastard!” she cried. “I owe you one. I’ll pick a spot and text you in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I’ll add it to your tab.” But she’d already ended the call.

* * *

A few hours later, Amy and I walked hand in hand into the most overstimulating place I’d ever seen in my life.

It was an adult arcade with video games, axe throwing, karaoke rooms, and crazy golf.

Sound effects ricocheted around the room, I could hear a horrible rendition of “I Will Survive” coming from the supposedly soundproofed karaoke booth, and every few seconds there was the distinct thud of an axe lodging into a wooden target, all on top of the Eurodance pumping out of the speakers.

I’d had a couple of dates suggest we meet there over the last couple of years since they’d built it, but I didn’t love the idea of handing a potential weapon to a first date, so I’d vetoed it, and thank god. I wished I’d done the same with Chloe.

Chloe and Lauren were already sat at a high table in the bar area with an almost empty pitcher of something pink. I hugged Chloe and nodded at Lauren, instantly getting the weird vibes Chloe was picking up on.

“How long have you been here?” I asked over the music as Chloe and Amy hugged.

“Just ten minutes,” she said, and my eyes must have gone wide or flicked to the pitcher unconsciously.

“There was a lot of ice.”

We might have made conversation, but I was pretty sure that was impossible given the decibels of the surrounding noise.

So instead we paid for a round of crazy golf, during which Chloe kept foisting cocktails on Amy and me in the name of “maximising happy hour”.

Amy and I had fun as always, but it was painful to watch how weirdly competitive Lauren was being, and how desperate Chloe seemed to win her approval, cheering for her like a football WAG and asking her every five minutes if she wanted a drink.

I could tell Amy was curbing her own competitiveness in an attempt not to come across like Lauren, and I wanted to egg her on so she wouldn’t hold back, but she probably wouldn’t have heard me over the din.