Page 7 of Date Knight (Roll for Romance #2)

Amy

T hat conniving bitch.

I could barely see through the tears forming in my eyes, but the sparkle glinting off the diamond ring on Niamh’s hand cut through it all.

Niamh, my ex best friend. The woman who had welcomed me to Manchester with open arms. Who had ushered me into the friend group, set me up with her friend Chris, and then fucked him for months behind my back.

And now she was sitting in a bar in my town, making out with him like she wanted to rub it in my face.

Like the fact that they were engaged now made any difference to the way they’d hurt me.

My horoscope that morning had said not to be afraid to get my hands dirty, and I’d assumed that was referencing meeting up with my nasty ex-boyfriend for whatever desperate reason he had.

But now, all I felt was gross, watching the two of them all over one another.

I’d need a lot more than the amethyst pendant around my neck to deal with the level of toxic energy in that bar.

I felt Phil’s presence before I saw him, and I’d barely processed that it was him before I was in his arms. It wasn’t until my face felt wet against his shirt that I realised I was actually crying. At least Niamh and Chris had been too preoccupied to see; that would have been humiliating.

In theory, it should have been embarrassing to have Phil see me like that, too, but for whatever reason, I didn’t feel embarrassed. Maybe I was too preoccupied by the fact I’d just been forced to watch one of the greatest betrayals of my life play out in real time.

“Who are they?” he asked after he’d held me for a moment.

“My ex-boyfriend and ex best friend.” I knew he knew the basics; Chloe had gotten me drunk enough to tell her a couple months after we’d moved home, and Jack had let slip a few weeks later that he knew.

So I only assumed the whole group was well informed of how pathetically my time in Manchester had ended.

“Well shit,” he said, and I took that as confirmation that he did, in fact, know.

“Shit indeed.”

“Were you expecting them?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. I pulled back from the hug, but he didn’t quite let me go. “I should have been. Chris said he needed to see me. I should have known she’d be behind it. He wasn’t even bothered to see me half the time when we were together.”

“Idiot.”

“I can’t do this, Phil.” I heard my voice strain into a whine, which I normally would never let happen in front of him– my greatest fear with Phil had always been that he would think me childish– but something about the way his hands grasped my arms or the sympathetic look on his face made me feel like I didn’t need to try to hold it together.

“I thought I would be okay to see him, to find out what he wanted, but I don’t think I can handle both of them.

Especially not if they’re engaged. God, she’ll be fucking insufferable as a bride. ”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. Just go home. I can take care of it.”

“How’s that?”

He shrugged. “I’ll walk in and tell him you don’t want to see him. Easy as that.”

I let out a huff of laughter through my nose and shook my head. “No, if they think they’ve gotten to me, they win.”

“But they have gotten to you,” he said softly, and somehow it didn’t sound judgmental. “And that’s okay. You’re allowed to have feelings.”

Except no, I wasn’t. Everyone in my life had made that abundantly clear. Phil himself had made that clear five years ago. I’d been the dramatic one growing up, wearing my heart on my sleeve, and I’d learned that it was hiding those feelings that made other people tolerate me.

I looked in through the window again to see that the making out had eased, and they were just staring into one another’s eyes. God, they really did look perfect together, with their expensive shirts and their shiny hair. How I’d ever thought I’d fit with either of them was beyond me.

But by staying away, by letting Phil fight my battle for me, I would be proving them right. They’d already taken so much away from me. The people I’d thought were my friends had taken their side in the fallout, and I’d had to move home with my tail between my legs.

No, I refused to cower outside like a scared puppy.

I was at least five minutes late by now, and as I was debating what to do, Niamh looked up from her love bubble, her eyes meeting mine almost instantly.

Her face broke into a huge grin, and she waved chaotically like a child, beckoning me inside.

She seemed genuinely happy to see me, but all I felt was rage.

The bitter taste in my mouth grew stronger as I realised I definitely couldn’t walk away now.

I took a deep breath and turned around so I could wipe my eyes without her seeing.

Don’t let them see you sweat , I told myself.

Embody your inner bad bitch. They needed to see just how unaffected I was by what they’d done– even if I had in fact been deeply affected.

They needed to realise they weren’t the main characters in my story, or anyone else’s for that matter.

And suddenly, I had an idea that was just unhinged enough that it might work, given the Gemini I had standing next to me.

I turned back around and smiled at Niamh, who was standing up from the table, channelling as much enthusiasm into the expression as I could. Then I looked at Phil, who instantly frowned deeply enough that it caused the shape of his beard to change entirely.

“You wanna help me fight fire with fire?” I held my hand out to him, palm up, and he took a long time to decide what to do with it, looking back and forth between it and my face.

But clearly he decided he was up for a little drama, because he not only took it but laced his fingers through mine.

He opened the door for me, and I was barely inside before I heard an ear-piercing scream that I knew from experience was Niamh’s.

She was rocketing towards me before the door had even shut behind me.

She completely ignored Phil and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me tight despite the fact that I made no move to reciprocate the gesture.

Chris had once said we looked alike, which was ironic in hindsight.

It was also untrue; we both had blonde hair and green eyes, but where my hair was waist-length and straw-coloured and unkempt, Niamh’s was a perfectly highlighted platinum kept in a tidy bob.

Where she’d grown up in designer clothes, I had always tried to imitate her as best I could via the high street.

I’d never felt more “not like other girls” in my life than when I’d hung around with Niamh and our other friends– or rather, her friends, I supposed– despite the fact that I knew she was the anomaly.

And whilst I would have staunchly defended her right to designer clothing and expensive jewellery to any man who dared denigrate it, it did feel oddly out of place in my hometown after ten months apart.

Like she was the villain in a Hallmark film come to try to drag her boyfriend back from the local bakery owner he’d fallen for.

“Who’s this?” Niamh asked in her Irish lilt as she leaned back from the one-sided hug, finally acknowledging Phil and our still-clasped hands.

“Phil,” he said, holding out his other hand to shake hers. She shook it.

“Oh. My. God.” She turned her head back to me slowly and dramatically, her mouth hung open. “ The Phil? Are you telling me you finally got with your brother’s hot friend?!”

I felt my face go instantly scarlet, and I didn’t dare look over at the smug smirk I knew Phil would be wearing.

“Sure did,” he offered, and nope, I was absolutely not going to look at him.

I could hear the taunt in his voice. Sure, it was no secret that I’d had a thing for him growing up, but as far as he knew, that night five years ago had been the end of things.

I’d worked very hard to give that impression, anyway.

So this was about as humiliating as it could get.

“That’s so exciting. How long have you been together?”

“About ten months,” Phil said, almost too quickly; quickly enough that it took me a couple of seconds to realise that was almost the exact amount of time it had been since I’d moved home. He was implying that I’d been so unbothered that I’d jumped straight into a new relationship. Good boy.

“Well, it sounds like we’re celebrating all around! Come sit. Champagne on me!” She flagged down a passing waiter and ordered a bottle of something I’d never heard of.

“Just water for me, thanks,” Phil said as he pulled my chair out. “I’m on call for my nan, and I’ve already had one this evening.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Niamh said, sitting down next to Chris, who still hadn’t said a word. “Chris is on water too, so he can drive us back later. Is your nan okay?”

“He’s her full-time carer,” I offered, determined to get involved with the conversation so I didn’t seem like a startled deer in their presence.

Niamh cooed, bringing her hands to her heart. “That is SO lovely, isn’t it, Chris?” She turned to her other half, who looked so uninterested in being there that I almost felt bad for her. Almost, but not quite. “Chris, say hi. Phil, this is Chris.”

“Good to meet you, man,” Phil said, so casually I was actually impressed, given his anger on my behalf outside. They shook hands across the table.

I felt something graze my skin on the side furthest away from Phil, and it made me jump before I realised it was his hand; he’d snaked it around my waist. I turned back towards him to find he’d brought his face in close enough that his beard tickled my ear.

“This okay?” he whispered, and I nodded subtly, trying to conceal the gulp in my throat. I looked down at the table, but I could feel him smile next to me. He was locked in, alright. I was the one who would need to keep my shit together.

“Now, I’m so sorry,” he said, turning back to Niamh and Chris. “Remind me, how do you two know Amy?”