Page 9

MILLIE

Your new life is with me

Noah’s home is beautiful.

A long driveway snakes away from the main road into a lush space surrounded by trees. The house is a combination of wood and stone, with a slanted charcoal roof and a chimney rising from the centre. I’m admiring the panelling on the heavy timber door when it swings open.

Noah’s tan, defined torso pops against the waistline of his neon pink surf shorts, dotted with bright yellow pineapples.

The vivid pattern clings to the muscles of his thighs.

His curls fall into his eyes, and he pushes them lazily away as he leans against the door, his stomach contorting. “Hey, babe.”

My body jerks backwards. “Please don’t call me that. Why don’t you have clothes on?”

Noah glances at his half-naked body. “Trust me, this is a lot of clothing for me. Especially in my own house.”

I release a slow, deliberate exhale. “Let’s get this over with.”

Noah chuckles. “We’re about to be spending a whole lot more time together. Might as well get used to it.”

“There are no cameras here,” I point out. “I don’t need to do anything.”

“Cameras can show up anywhere, you can trust me on that.” Noah holds the door open wider. “And by all means, make this more painful for yourself. Come in.”

I do my best to ignore the amount of flesh on display as I step across the threshold.

The interior is as breathtaking as the outside.

Wooden beams line the high ceilings, the entry hallway leading to an enormous open living space with a giant television and fireplace.

The spotless kitchen to the right is a mix of titanium and steel, but most breathtaking element to the home is the floor to ceiling glass wall that overlooks the ocean below.

“Wow.” My nose nearly touches the glass. I’d never get sick of this view.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Your home is stunning,” I agree, turning to see Noah staring out the window.

His gaze flicks to me. “Thanks, but I meant that .”

He looks out at the rolling waves, awe etched on his face. It’s clear he hasn’t got sick of this view either, that even though he’s in the water every day, he still appreciates it, still admires it.

My gaze falls to a series of photographs on the far wall, and I pad over to them. Noah wasn’t lying when he said I’d love the big wave photos in his home. They’re breathtaking.

“They’re from?—”

“Nazaré.” I narrow my eyes at the tiny surfer against a wall of thunderous water.

“I’d recognise this spot anywhere.” The ocean is one of my favourite subjects to capture through my lens, and I’ve always been drawn to anything sea-related by other photographers.

Maybe it’s because I lost my parents to the ocean or have some other connection to it, but I’ve always admired big waves.

When I turn back to Noah, he’s watching me across the room with surprise. “Right. Can I get you a drink?”

I shake my head. “I’m good, thanks. Let’s get down to business.”

Noah pauses, a smirk on his lips. “I appreciate a straight-talking woman.”

“This is going to be torture.”

Noah chuckles. He’s much more relaxed today, which makes me nervous. Maybe it’s because I’m on his turf that he feels more at ease.

He motions for me to take a seat on his enormous brown leather sofa and slides a stack of papers across the low coffee table. He clears his throat, pacing around the living room with casual grace, his own papers in his hands. Sunlight bounces off his torso, accentuating his ripped body.

My gaze falls to the first page of my stack, and my jaw drops. “You had this legally drawn up?”

“I’m a professional athlete,” Noah replies, stopping across from me. “I don’t fuck around with contracts.”

“Who said anything about a legally binding contract?” I cry. “I thought we were writing down boundaries and coming to an agreement like normal people.”

“You were wrong.” Noah seems unfazed by my outburst. “If you want to be paid a healthy sum of money at the end of this, then I want the agreement in writing, with your pretty signature underneath. You want to bow out? There’s the door.”

I stay planted on the sofa. Noah might be cocky and brazen, but the fact he’s thinking of risks and fall-out is smart . It’s something I’d consider if I had a high-profile career like him.

I twist my hands together. “Let’s get started.”

“Alright, then.” Noah starts pacing again. “This relationship contract, hereby known as ‘agreement’, is written for the mutual benefit of the Couple. That’s you and me.”

“I got that part.”

“Furthermore, this agreement is solely meant to establish rules and boundaries for a loving and fulfilling relationship?—”

“This isn’t a real relationship,” I cut in, panic lacing my tone. “Let’s take that out.”

“Agreed.” Noah snatches a pen from the table and scribbles on the paper.

“Exclusivity. The Couple agrees to be faithful sexually and emotionally for all intents and purposes as outlined in the contract. No other partners are allowed.” Noah peers at me over his papers and I shift under his gaze.

“I can’t have you snapped sleeping around behind my back.

But given the way you reacted to my comments about your lack of sexual activity, I’m guessing that won’t be a problem. ”

I plaster on a fake smile. “You’re hilarious.”

Noah’s rakish grin sends an unexpected shiver through my body. “Personal needs. The Couple agrees to hang out?—”

“ Five times per week?” I cry, running my gaze over the detailed paper. “Three of those in public and, or around other people.”

“I need people to believe we’re obsessed,” Noah says, plopping down opposite me and kicking his feet up onto the table. “That means we have to spend lots of time together in a small amount of time. And at some point, overnight. On the non-public days, we can stay in separate rooms here.”

“Not all of us have this much spare time,” I argue. “I’m in the café nearly every day and I’d like to have a life outside of that.”

“Your new life is with me.”

My breath catches for a split-second, before I clear my throat. “How about four times per week?”

“Fine.” Noah makes a mark on his copy. “Romantic activity and physical touch.”

I close my eyes. “This is insane.”

“And yet, here you are.” I snap my eyes open as Noah lowers the file.

“Millie, this contract is to protect both of us. I want to make sure you help me out, and you want to make sure you get paid. This is so we’re both on the same page.

Literally . That no one crosses a line they shouldn’t and you’re comfortable with everything. Say the word, and we’ll can it.”

I hate that he’s right. This entire scenario is insane, but I agreed to the idea. I came to his house. I’m going through the paperwork. I need the payment at the end of this.

“Keep going,” I sigh.

“We’ve got to go through what we’re both comfortable with ensuring neither of us feels violated or at risk,” Noah explains.

I scan the page in front of me. “Handholding? What does that mean?”

Noah’s mouth lifts. “Sometimes, when people care about each other, they hold hands.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished his sentence, and he lets out an exasperated grunt. “Jesus, if I can’t even hold your hand, we’re going to be in strife.”

I exhale a slow, deliberate breath. You can cope with handholding, Millie. “Handholding is acceptable.”

“Embracing. Can I hug you? Touch your body on your lower back, around your shoulders, etcetera?” The fact Noah looks sincere, waiting patiently for my response, is unsettling.

I bite in the inside of my cheek. “I guess so?”

“I guess so isn’t an option.” Noah flicks his curls out of his eyes. “Yes, or no? Bear in mind, we’re meant to be a couple obsessed with each other.”

“Yes,” I agree reluctantly. “Try to give me a heads up before you do it.”

Noah nods, ticking the box on his paper. “Kissing.”

“No way.”

“You mean, no tongue?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I mean, no kissing my mouth at all.”

Noah’s smile is about to break his face. “What about on the cheek? On the head?”

“You really think we’re going to be in these situations?”

Noah shrugs. “You never know. I’m an affectionate guy. No one’s going to buy it if I can’t kiss my missus when I want.”

The way he refers to me as ‘his missus’ makes me shift in my seat.

“How about I promise to never kiss you on the lips unless you give the go ahead?” he offers.

“It won’t happen, but fine.”

Noah scribbles on his paper, his tongue peeking out the side.

“What about you?” I ask.

Noah looks up. “What about me?”

“What are your limits?”

Noah’s eyes flash with humour. “No limits for me, Millie. You want to grind me in public whilst sucking on my neck? I’m down for it.”

I know he says it to get under my skin, so I bite down on my tongue to deflect the image in my head. But I don’t do it fast enough. The image of me doing that to him creeps in anyway and my temperature rises. “You’re an idiot.”

“This is going to be so much fun.” Noah removes his feet from the table and leans forward, shuffling the stack of papers.

“Mutual respect. To maintain a fair and transparent relationship, the Couple agrees to the following: Honesty. The Couple agrees to maintain a radically honest relationship and to always say what is on their mind.”

I lean back against the sofa. “Why must we be radically honest?”

“If we’re lying to everyone else, I need someone to be honest with.”

His answer surprises me. “You won’t be lying to Dan. He knows about this arrangement.”

“Yes, and he’s made it very clear he wants nothing to do with it.” Noah frowns, as if he’s confused as to why his best friend isn’t onboard. “He said something like dig your own grave and jump in, dipshit. ”

“Dan seems sensible.”

“Judgement-free,” he continues. “Each partner agrees to listen and give advice that is in the best interest of the other partner. Especially in public settings, each partner agrees to make comments that present the other in a good and positive manner and free of embarrassment or negativity.” He looks up at me.

“You can do whatever when we’re alone, but out there, you’d better pretend you like me. You’d better act like my girlfriend.”

“Yes, sir.”

Noah’s eyes light up at those words and the heat racing up my neck to my cheeks makes me want to dunk my head in cold water.

“Family.” He tilts his head from side to side and a crack releases. My gaze darts away from the veins in his neck. “The Couple agrees to spend time with each partner’s respective family. Preferably around Christmas time.” He looks over at me. “It’s always a good story when the family is involved.”

“You’re okay with lying to your family?”

“Not exactly, but it’ll make my mum happy seeing me happy. That’s more important.”

“Okay,” I sigh.

“What about your family?”

I swallow. “Ellis is my family.”

Noah’s face softens, as if he’d forgotten I only have Ellis left.

He stares at me for a few beats, and I fidget under his gaze.

I’ve long since come to grips with my life and status.

An only child who lost her parents a long time ago.

Donna was my stand-in parent, and I adored her.

Ellis is the sister I never had. Winston is my bundle of fur and unconditional love.

I might have been through a lot, but I like what I’ve got.

Noah doesn’t press the issue.

“Disputes,” he continues. “Each partner promises to make a good-faith effort to resolve any dispute or issue in an amicable manner. Either partner has the option to take a time out and remove themselves from the situation. If a time out occurs, each partner agrees to be quiet and give the other their personal space.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, a laugh escapes my mouth. “This is ridiculous. Does this really need to be written into a contract? Can’t we, I don’t know, be adults?”

“No.”

Noah goes through the rest of the contract like it’s the easiest thing in the world, from financial obligations and liabilities to the final page, which discusses the execution of the agreement.

“This agreement shall continue until one partner gives notice to the other of breaking up and, therefore, this agreement’s termination,” Noah recites.

He glances at me. “You can bow out at any time. I’m not a demon.

However, in the event of a breakup instigated by you, financial obligations will cease. ”

“Seems fair,” I agree.

“The contract is complete when Party A, that’s me, has secured a sponsor or the date of twenty-second of January is reached, whichever comes first. That’s when I’ll leave for the Pipe Pro.” Noah looks up. “You good with that?”

The twenty-second of January is a little over three months away. Three months of lying, faking and pretending. Three months of being someone I’m not, for a guy I don’t like, to get some cash I desperately need.

I nod. “I’m good with that.”

Noah whips out his phone and makes a call to his lawyer, who updates the paperwork with our suggestions in a matter of minutes. When Noah returns with a fresh copy for us both to sign, I swallow my nerves.

“Each partner agrees they have read and understood this agreement in its entirety and have executed on the undersigned date,” Noah recites after going through the changes.

He signs his name at the bottom and initials in places indicated by his lawyer.

He turns the paperwork to me. “If you’re still in, sign here. ”

Is this the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever been a part of? Yes.

Do I need the money? Absolutely.

“Give me that pen.”