Page 42 of Date Knight (Roll for Romance #2)

Phil

I ’d been imagining for years what it would feel like to be Amy Evans’s boyfriend, and now that it was happening, it was blissfully anticlimactic.

Well, technically, there was a lot of climaxing. But besides that, the whole thing felt surprisingly, wonderfully normal.

To be fair, we’d been practising the relationship side of things for nearly two months.

She’d already become the person I texted when I had a random funny thought in the middle of the day, and she was the person I thought about first when I woke up.

The only difference was that now I didn’t have to keep my hands to myself, and thank god.

It wasn’t just in bed, either. Our no-PDA rule had clearly just applied to the fake dating arrangement, and literally overnight we went from relatively hands-off to almost offensively hands-on.

We walked around the festival the next day in our Donkey and Dragon costumes, constantly hand in hand or arm in arm, only breaking contact when we absolutely had to.

She sat snuggled in my lap on the picnic blanket as we laughed along to a D they would have loved her just as much as I did.

But no matter how happy she seemed, and no matter how set she supposedly was against going to Niamh and Chris’s wedding, she apparently couldn’t stop thinking about it.

We were side by side in the kitchen one afternoon, the smell of cookies wafting over from the oven. Ethel had an extra-long physio appointment, so we’d come home instead of staying at the hospital, and I’d whipped up a quick dough whilst Amy worked at the table.

A while later, when we were doing the washing up together, she started telling me about the other friends who would be at the wedding. She sounded almost like she was changing her mind about going, especially as she talked about needing to show them how well she was doing away from them.

I handed her a baking tray I’d finished washing. “You don’t have anything to prove to those assholes. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she said with a sigh, running the towel over the metal to dry it. “But wouldn’t it be nice to get a bit of closure?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, feels like the opposite of closure to me. Like you’re just picking at the scab of what happened.”

“But what about my friends?” she asked, almost wistfully, as if she were thinking aloud rather than asking me, so I paused a moment to let her, despite the voice in my head yelling they are not your friends!

“I do miss them,” she said, and it felt almost like she’d managed to convince herself.

“They don’t seem to know I’m not going, and they’ve all sounded so excited to see me.

I know things won’t be the same– I don’t wanna be friends with Niamh, and I don’t live there anymore– but maybe it’s worth it to salvage some of the few friendships I have that aren’t tied to my brother? ”

I frowned, setting down the mixing bowl I was washing and turning to face her.

The summer sun was pouring in through the window in front of us, and I had to squint to look at her.

“After all this time, despite everything”– I gestured between us with the brush I’d been using– “do you really still think of us all as your brother’s friends? ”

She pursed her lips and looked at me sceptically, as if searching for the answer. “Honestly, yeah,” she said. “Maybe not you, not anymore, but the rest of them? Even Chloe? Yes. If Jack and I fell out for some reason, they’d all be his friends, not mine.”

“You know that’s not true,” I said, feeling suddenly very defensive. “Remember when Jack went travelling for all those years? Chloe and I didn’t ditch you. We were here for you.”

“Yeah, and look how well that went.”

I shook my head and turned back to the washing up, scrubbing hard at a dried-on patch of something.

I wasn’t sure what I could do to make her see how wrong she was.

How integral she felt already to the makeup of the group.

Ultimately, though, I wasn’t sure it was possible for me to say something that would make her believe it.

It would just take time, like everything.

“It’s fine,” she said when I didn’t reply, wringing the towel in her hands. “And don’t worry, even if I went, I wouldn’t make you come with me.”

“Oh no, I’d be going with you,” I said, my gaze snapping back to her. “That prick deserves to see how good this townie looks in a suit.”

This made Amy crack a smile, which of course meant I smiled, too.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit.”

“You’re in for a treat.” I winked, and she rolled her eyes.

“But you wouldn’t be allowed to look better than I do.”

“I assure you,” I said, “that’s not possible, even if you showed up in tattered joggers. But also, no girlfriend of mine would go anywhere of consequence without a Phil Owen original.”

“Oh yeah,” she said sarcastically. “Just whip up a black tie-ready dress in less than a month, why don’t ya.”

“I’m sorry, did you see how quickly I made your costume for the festival?

I’d be fine.” It wasn’t strictly true– the design I’d been working on with Morgan for Amy’s ballgown was pretty intricate, and making a wedding outfit too would be a bit much.

I’d started on the gown weeks ago, as soon as we’d gotten back from the festival.

The pattern was already cut in my craft room.

Not that she could do both. If she did choose to go to the wedding, she’d be missing the ball, and all that effort would be for nothing.

Amy’s smile twisted into a wicked grin, and she stepped into me, turning me so my bum was pressed against the kitchen sink, her body against mine.

She pressed up onto her tiptoes and leaned into me.

“Does that mean you’d have to retake my measurements?

” she said softly into my ear. “Because that might be reason enough to RSVP yes.”

“Unlikely, since I’m now intimately familiar with every inch of your body.

” I desperately tried to keep my voice even, despite her running the tip of her tongue along the edge of my ear, making me swallow hard.

I couldn’t help but bring my hands up, running over the rough denim covering her hips, pulling her into me.

I was already straining against my own jeans.

“Better safe than sorry,” she whispered, then pressed a kiss to my mouth.

I opened myself to her, and I felt her tongue run lightly along my lip.

I traced up her spine with my hand until I reached her hair, wrapping my fingers through it and tugging, exposing her throat to me.

I kissed the delicate skin there, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips.