Page 55

NOAH

I don’t brawl

This is wrong on every level.

In two seconds, the past three months play out like a movie in front of me, and I recoil, lifting my hands away from Sofia. “I don’t want to kiss you.”

Sofia jumps up. “I’m sorry!”

“You don’t need to apologise,” I assure her, standing to my feet. “It’s not you. It’s just, I only want to kiss Millie.”

The admission is liberating, like being battered beneath the waves and breaking through the surface, inhaling a heavenly gulp of oxygen. I’ve finally admitted to the world I want my fake girlfriend to be my real one. And it doesn’t terrify me. If anything, it injects new life into my veins.

“I know, I know!” Sofia says, panicked. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Sofia, breathe,” I assure her.

She covers her face with her hands, peeking at me through her fingers. “Could I stoop any lower, or what?”

I roll my eyes. “I would beat you on every front on stooping low. Trust me.”

She gives a sheepish smile, and as if she remembers where she is, pushes her hair back off her shoulders. “I know it’s not an excuse, but the truth is . . . I’m lonely.” She scoops up her champagne flute. “I don’t mind being alone, but loneliness? It’s crippling. God, I need therapy, don’t I?”

I chortle, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Nothing wrong with therapy. Especially if it can help you overcome some of this stuff you’re going through. Mack’s setting me up with a sports psychologist for this year.”

“That’s great,” she says, and I know she means it. She rolls her shoulders back. “Can we forget this happened?”

“Forget what happened?”

She grins. “Thanks, Noah.”

Sofia’s not vindictive or malicious. Some of the things I loved about her were her kindness and vulnerability, and the way she tries to see the good in everybody.

We had a wonderful relationship, even with its low points, and that we can both stand here and have this conversation (and awkward moment) is a testament to that.

But standing here in proximity, with good memories and the feel of her lips on mine?

The only thing I can think of is Millie.

Her cute smile and her wild, dark hair always falling in her eyes.

Her awkwardness when she held my hand for the first time, or the look of pride on her face when she stood up on a surfboard.

The way her shoulders drop, and her face relaxes when she’s behind a camera.

The way she opens up when it’s just the two of us and how she looks at me like I’m more than a contract or an old school acquaintance.

My feelings for Sofia are purely platonic and though she might miss my companionship and the familiarity of what we had, she’s not in love with me anymore, and I’m not in love with her.

I’m in love with someone else.

Whoa. I’ve spent a few months stressing over my feelings and emotions, but now I’ve accepted them, excitement and anticipation have replaced the fear. Complete clarity washes over me, and everything until this point has led me to realise how much Millie means to me.

“We’re not about to witness a brawl, are we?”

Sofia and I turn to see Callum approaching, with Sam and Toby in tow.

“I don’t brawl,” Sofia says dryly. “Plus, we’d never do that to Sam and Toby. Right, Noah?”

“Right.” I smile as I make room for our additional guests. “My brawling days are behind me.”

Sam and Toby chuckle and greet Sofia with familiarity. It’s not surprising. She probably met them for the first time half an hour ago, but that’s Sofia. She has a way of connecting with everyone in a matter of seconds.

“We’re invited to the unofficial afterparty.” Callum winks at me before sitting down.

“You’re having an afterparty for your party?” Sofia asks.

Sam grins. “Of course.”

She looks thoughtful. “Where is it?”

“A speakeasy in Burleigh Heads,” Toby replies. “A friend of ours owns it and is letting us have a private event. You guys in?”

I glance at my watch. Millie’s show has started. “When are you guys heading there?”

“Soon. Our PR guy told us to stay here max three hours.” Toby shrugs. “I don’t get the rules, but those are our orders. Anyway, you guys should come.” Toby turns to me and slaps me on the shoulder. “We’d love to chat with you properly about your plans for this year.”

Hope swells in my chest. This couldn’t have gone any better if I tried. I can go to the afterparty, have a chat for half an hour and should be able to make it back for the end of Millie’s show.

“We’re down.” I look to Callum for confirmation, who’s already accepting an alcoholic beverage from Sam. “Hey, I thought we said no drinking?”

Callum holds his arms out in surrender. “I’m only going to have a couple. I’m not the one who needs to keep his fitness up.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m counting your drinks.”

Callum grins and downs his beer, sighing with satisfaction after he takes a big swig. “Delicious.”

We arrive at the speakeasy as the darkest storm clouds of the season blanket the southeastern coast. Thick droplets fall as we exit the shuttle bus which drove us from the warehouse to the afterparty.

As we huddle inside the foyer, I fish out my phone to fire another text to Millie.

Me

Hope it’s going well. The set-up looks great. Having a chat with the boys from Salt Skin but will be there before it finishes (and hopefully in time for your amazing speech) x

Millie

I’m not doing a speech.

Me

We’ll see.

Millie

Got to go. People keep showing up?? And what did the boys from Salt Skin say? I knew you could do it.

“No phones.”

I lift my gaze to see a giant, brick shithouse of a man standing in front of me. A woman donning a black corset, smiles at me as she snatches my phone out of my hand and locks it in a security box.

“I was messaging somebody,” I grit out.

“You can collect these when you leave,” she tells me, handing me a slip of paper. “Don’t lose your ticket.”

Everyone else does the same, handing over their phones to the staff who bag and tag them.

I’m not surprised. This is a private event, where no photos are allowed, and NDAs are at the ready.

I’ve been to plenty of parties like this and even hosted some myself.

But I would’ve appreciated being able to finish my conversation with Millie.

Callum hooks his arm around my neck and presses his thumb in between my eyes. “I can see that frown from space. Don’t stress. We won’t stay long. Just long enough for you to lock this deal in and for me to try the most expensive whiskey on the menu.”

Callum’s right. I need to stay focused and do what I came here to do. This is my career, what I’ve been chasing all summer, and it’s at my fingertips.

I won’t be long, anyway.