Page 8 of Forever, Never, Always (Forever #2)

“I don’t mean someone wanting to marry you after one date, Sofia,” I tell her, “but if he’s put off by kids, you need to know first off.”

“Fine,” she says with a sigh. “Harry’s dad isn’t on the scene. No, it’s just me and him.”

I furrow my brow. “Can I ask why you aren’t saying anything about how you conceived him?”

She glares. “Why would I mention that to a complete stranger?”

I smirk. “You’ve got a point.”

“He’ll think I’m some saddo who can’t get laid.”

I laugh, and she follows. “It’s not a bad thing, yah know.”

“What isn’t?” She takes a sip of wine.

“Being out of the dating scene.”

“Was I ever in it?”

“Some men would find what you did amazing.”

“Yeah, and some would run a mile.”

“Then they’re not the one for you. You’re independent. It’s a good thing.”

She scoops some rice onto her spoon, followed by the chicken, and closes her eyes in delight as she savours the taste. I can’t pull my eyes from the way she licks her lips. “Do you cook?” she eventually asks.

I nod. “I like to cook. I’m not great at it, but I get by.”

“What’s your favourite thing to cook?”

“Banana bread.”

She laughs. “Lockdown special.”

“It’s easy.”

“What’s your go-to meal . . . after curry?”

I think on her words. “Roast dinner.”

“Really? I had you down as a steak kind of guy.”

“Nothing beats my mother’s roast dinner.”

“Ha, a mummy’s boy?”

He nods, smiling wide. “And proud.”

“You have a close family?”

“Mum, Dad, three brothers.”

“Three,” she says, acting surprised. “Who are you closest with?”

“All of them, each for different reasons. Jimmy is funny and relaxed. I can chill with him or party, he’s equally fun at either.

Seb is the youngest but wise for his age, wiser than all of us put together.

He keeps us in line, but he’s also good for advice, as is his wife, Katie, who we all adore.

And then there’s Hugo, oldest brother, the one we’ve all learned from.

He’s been through a lot but is happy again, and we have the beautiful Meg to thank for that.

He’s also my boss, the headteacher where I work. ”

“Umm, is that how you got the job?” she asks with suspicion.

I laugh. “Mainly, but I’m also a good teacher.”

“What do you teach?”

“English.”

“Interesting.”

“I think so. What about your family? Siblings?”

She shakes her head. “No, just me and my parents.”

“Are you close?”

“Not really. They’ve always worked really hard to provide a good life for me, and I appreciate it. They weren’t happy when I had Harry.”

I lean closer, the fake date forgotten temporarily while I drag information from her. “Because you decided to parent alone?”

She nods. “They said I was selfish, that Harry would need male influence.”

“Not strictly true. I know lots of kids who come from one-parent families and they’re doing just fine.”

She sighs heavily. “Sometimes I think they’re right.”

I reach across the table and take her hand. “They’re not, Sofia. You’re a good mum. Prove them wrong.”

She takes a breath, shaking out her shoulders then forcing a smile. “How am I doing so far?”

I grin. “Good. The conversation is flowing.”

“Would you date me?” Then she gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth. “God, I’m so sorry, that’s inappropriate.”

“If I didn’t have someone, definitely.”

She stares down at her half-eaten food. “Maybe I’ll ask my boss out?”

I nod stiffly. “Great idea.”

“Really?” she asks, looking up. “Because you said before it was a bad idea.”

“If you like him,” I say with a shrug.

“I don’t, not really.” She laughs. “He’s a bit arrogant.”

“Maybe I can set you up on a blind date?” But even the thought makes me want to punch something. Hard.

She stands. “I have dessert.” I grin, wiggling my brows to try to break the serious tone we’ve suddenly stumbled across.

She rolls her eyes. “I mean I made dessert.”

I help clear the table and then she pulls two desserts from the fridge. “It’s a strawberry fool. I created it with meringue, strawberries, and sauce.”

I take the first bite and groan in approval. “It’s a good job I’m not dating you,” I tell her, “because I’d be the size of a house.”

I follow her into the living room. “Film?” she asks, and I nod, taking a seat on the couch.

“Are we still fake dating?” I ask.

“I’m not sure I’d invite a first date for a film.”

“If it’s going well, you could.”

“But then I have the whole dilemma,” she mutters.

“What do you mean?”

“Do I sit beside him? Do we hold hands? What if he puts his arm around me? Do I snuggle into him?”

I twist to face her. “Relax,” I say. “You’re overthinking again.”

She takes a deep breath, nodding, and our eyes meet.

There’re soft flecks of grey amongst the blue, and the longer I stare, the more her pupils dilate.

I swallow hard. “You’ll be able to read the signals,” I almost whisper.

I find myself gently cupping her cheek and rubbing my thumb over her soft skin.

There’s longing in her eyes, and her breathing is heavy, much like my own.

“How?” she asks, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“Well, when he’s this close, staring into your eyes . . .” I swallow again.

“Yes?”

My mobile shrills to life, and we jump apart. I grab it from my pocket and answer without checking. “Yeah?”

“Where are you?” It’s Zoe, and I silently groan.

“Everything okay?” I ask, standing and moving away from Sofia.

“Can you meet me? I really need your help.”

“Erm, sure,” I mutter. “If it’s important.”

“It’s life or death. I’ll ping you my location.” And she disconnects.

Sofia is staring blankly at the television, and I stand awkwardly by the side. We both know what was about to happen, and if Zoe hadn’t called . . . fuck. I’m not a cheat.

“Zoe needs my help,” I mutter.

Sofia forces a smile. “Okay. Great. Thanks for tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter.

“No, really, you’ve been a great help.” She stands and almost pushes me to the front door, opening it wide. “Have a great night.”

“Sofia . . .” I begin, stepping outside.

“Speak soon.” She closes the door in my face, locking it for good measure.

Zoe

I spot Ric the second he enters the private space in the bar. I rush over and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you so much.”

“You said life or death,” he reminds me, looking around the busy bar suspiciously.

“It is. The life or death of my career.”

“Well, this place looks nice and busy, so I think it’s a success.”

“I’m two waiters down. I have no one to take my picture.” He stares at me for a silent minute, and I offer a weak smile. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m just confused, Zo. Why am I here?”

“To help your wonderful girlfriend.” I kiss him a second time and thread my arm through his. “Pretty please.” I spot the moment he relents because his shoulders slump. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

“Fine. But be warned, I’ve never been a waiter before.”

“It’s easy. You just have to walk around holding a tray of food for the guests to take.” I grab his hand. “I’ll show you through to the kitchen.”

I wait for Ric to change into his waiter uniform when Carlton appears. He gives me an award-winning smile and places an arm around my waist. “Tonight is perfect,” he tells me. “You really are magic.”

I give a polite laugh. “Thank you.” And then I spot Ric, stomping towards us, glaring at me.

“Carlton, this is Eric,” I say with a wide smile.

Carlton eyes Ric, giving a slight nod but making no move to shake his hand. As far as he’s concerned, Ric’s the hired help.

Ric narrows his eyes. “Her boyfriend.”

I arch a brow and feel my cheeks colour slightly with embarrassment. “I’ll catch up with you shortly,” I tell Carlton, and he leaves the kitchen. I turn to Ric. “What was that?”

“No, what was that ?” he counters coldly. “You two looked cosey.”

“Ric, he’s the client. This is his party.”

He looks ashamed and hangs his head. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

I cup his cheek. “I know. It’s unfair of me to ask for your help. I won’t make a habit of it.”

He presses his lips to mine. “Ignore me, I’m being a grouch.”

“Where were you tonight, anyway? I wasn’t interrupting anything?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing important.”

Everything runs smoothly. And apart from Carlton touching me at every opportunity, I’m relieved it’s gone to plan.

I catch Ric passing, taking his arm. “Are you okay?” I can’t put my finger on it, but he’s distant and not himself. He nods. “Can you take a few pictures?” I ask, handing him my phone.

I hear the way he huffs as he dumps his empty tray on a nearby table, but he holds the phone up in my direction without further protest. After a few poses, I feel that familiar arm wrapping around my shoulders and offer a fake smile to Carlton.

“Let’s have some together,” he says, handing his phone to Ric. “It’ll be good for our socials.”

Ric clicks away, using both phones. He hands Carlton’s back then stares at mine for a few minutes with a furrowed brow. Before I can ask, Carlton grabs my attention, showing me the pics. And by the time I look up, Ric’s gone and my phone is on the table.