Page 1 of Hot n Bothered

“ I ’m not going.” Isobelle said from under the duvet. “It’s as simple as that.”

Darren snorted as he unearthed her suitcase from under the mound of clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe. “Like mum is ever going to accept that. Do you want me to pack for you now? Save doing it last minute and forgetting half your stuff?”

“I will text her. In fact I’ll do it now.” She reached out feeling over her array of notepads and books trying to find her phone. “Fuck.” She muttered as she knocked it to the floor.

“And then what? Ignore your phone as it blows up?”

She lifted the corner of her duvet in time to see her brother snatch her phone up from the floor.

“I was planning on switching it off.” She admitted.

“And miss my calls? How dare you.”

“ I’m not the one who is running out on our family holiday after convincing me to go. And leaving me all alone with those vultures. You promised me I wouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

She looked at him imploringly, the tears in her eyes weren’t faked. They were from the panic attack she was holding at bay.

Darren was the only member of her family that didn’t have a go at her.

Even though he was five years older than her, it was like they were twins with how close they were.

That’s why she had moved up to Sunderland to be nearer to him, rather than stay in Derby with the rest of her family.

Her social group was essentially him and his group of friends and that was it.

She had only agreed to go on this family trip because he had promised that he would be there to act as a buffer between her and them. But now with less than a week to go he dropped the bombshell that he had to stay due to work needing him.

He looked at her and immediately understood the state she was in. He sat on the bed taking her hand tapping out the timings for her breathing with his thumb. As always, just that point of contact helped ground her and get control back.

“Actually I want to be there. Just to see their faces at the surprise I have for you, to help you through it.”

“Unless you can magic up a hunk who will only have eyes for me and not the twins. Oh and a multi-million pound book deal then it will literally be the worst three weeks of my life and you know how much I hate the misuse of literally.” She huffed glaring at him.

He shot her a grin. “Well I can do the first. It’s open.” He yelled, at the ring of her doorbell.

She punched his arm. “What the Hell Darren!” She snapped getting out of bed. “You don’t just invite people into my…” She stopped as he sauntered into her bedroom with that lopsided smile of his that made her toes curl.

“You tell her yet?” He asked Darren.

“Tell me what?” She rounded on her brother, her glare notched right up to ‘I will flay you alive’.

“Well when I told mum I wouldn’t make it I suggested you take your hot new boyfriend instead.” He was grinning far too smugly and ignoring her glare.

“Hot… new...? Are you out of your fucking mind? That will never work and you know it.”

“And why not? Give me one reason.”

“Firstly, I suck at lying, you know I do. Secondly, they are not going to believe I of all people found a boyfriend. Thirdly, three weeks of the twins trying to seduce my fake boyfriend and the rest of them questioning why he would want me and asking him if he’s sure, will be far worse than the usual shit I get from them. ” She yelled at him.

And fourthly, no way could she do it with Ben Wallace, her brother’s best friend, of all people.

Not just because he was 6’2” of muscular tattooed gorgeousness.

Nor because he had a social media cooking show viewed and followed by millions.

But mainly because she’d been head over heels, completely and utterly in love with him for the past six years.

Actually it was also equally to do with the fact that five months ago they had slept together during his birthday party and he didn’t remember.

He hadn’t seemed that drunk when it happened, but when she found out the next day how much he’d had to drink she understood why he had been interested.

He had no memory of it the next day and she was not about to remind him, especially since it was dubious consent on her part.

“I can do most of the lying Belle.” He said leaning against the doorframe watching her with those striking blue eyes of his.

“You don’t need to lie about how we met, or what we’ve done together.

And what the Hell do you mean they won’t believe it?

I’ll have you know I’m a hot ticket. I’m prime boyfriend material. It would be easy to fall for me.”

“That’s not what I said. They especially won’t believe I bagged the Hot n Bothered guy.”

“And why not?”

She gestured to him. “Well look at you. And then look at me.” She pointed lamely at herself.

She wasn’t being self-depreciative just to get a compliment, she was in a word, a mess.

A figurative and literal mess.

At the moment her unwashed and unbrushed hair was pulled out of her face in a messy ponytail, hair stuck up all over.

She had no makeup on, her cute glasses were covered in smudges and she had pen on her face from where she tapped it against her cheek as she thought, without realising she had it the wrong way round.

She was wearing a very old sweatshirt, faded and raggedy along the edges.

It even had thumbholes in the cuffs it was that worn out.

Her jeans were big and baggy and in desperate need of a wash.

Not to mention she was fat. Literally the only member of their family who was fat, and of course it had to be her.

The whole Isobelle mess didn’t even stop at looks. No, she was also on medication for both depression and anxiety and was prone to panic attacks.

As well as that she wrote. A lot.

Her messed-up brain kept churning out ideas for stories that she wrote down in hundreds of notepads because that’s how she flowed best. Of course, her brain never waits for one story to be completed before coming up with a new one. So at anytime she would be working on at least twenty WIPs.

Darren had finally convinced her to send off a couple of actually completed works to agents. But she couldn’t see anything taking off for her as she wasn’t that good.

Now Ben? Ben was the embodiment of not a mess.

His thick black hair, that always looked perfectly messy, flopped over his forehead into his ice blue eyes.

Coupled with his high cheekbones and perfect soft mouth he had women swooning all over the world, think Henry Cavill but better .

His geeky t-shirt accentuated his muscles, and the fit of his jeans was almost scandalous in how good he looked in them.

He was an unbelievably brilliant cook. Could knock up some of the best tasting meals with just a few ingredients.

He liked to sleep in too much, which was why he never wanted to become a professional chef.

Instead, he’d decided to film himself cooking wearing an apron – wearing only an apron and post it online.

Talk about a recipe for success. He was officially an influencer, had celebrity followers and after one best-selling cookbook he was about to publish a second. Along with a Hot n Bothered apron and cookware range.

“You could easily bag me.” Ben said. “Come on let me do this for you.”

“Why? Why would you even want to? You’ve heard us talk about our family. You know what a shit show they are. Why would you want to subject yourself to them?”

“Because I told him exactly how they are with you Iz, and I told him how worried I was about you going out there alone with them.” Darren said.

“So why can’t I do the original plan of cancelling and turning off my phone? It’s a good solid plan.”

Darren grimaced. “Because the tickets are non-refundable, and dad will demand you pay him in full. He already threatened me with it. Another reason why Ben is the perfect choice.”

“Fuck.” Isobelle muttered chewing on her nail. There was no way she could afford to pay for her ticket, especially now.

“Come on Belle, it’ll be fun.” Ben said. “We can chill by the pool, work on our tans, see some sights. I can get some new recipe ideas and you can fill more notepads. And better than that you can rub it in their faces that I’m your man.”

“It’s Ben, or I have to pay dad for both of us Iz.” Darren was grinning because he could see she was struggling to come up with a good enough reason to say no.

“Urgh! Fine. But when this goes tits up I get to say I told you so and I get to do the dance.”