Page 96 of Try Hard

I pulled her face closer to mine, glad when she let more of her body press down into me.

Our noses brushed, her breath coming every bit as fast as mine.

“You should have been my first kiss, Eve Archer,” I whispered, our lips so close together they were almost touching. “I should have been braver.”

“I should have too. But I’m not going anywhere now, Ophelia.”

I looked into her eyes as best I could when we were so close. “I want to be brave now.”

“You already have been. There’s no pressure for anything more yet.”

“But I want to.”

“You will. When every part of you is ready.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Eve

Anight with Ophelia, sleeping beside her, waking up to her in my arms, her glorious hair fanned across my pillows, a whole morning watching planes with her while pretending we weren’t exhausted from last night… and I still missed her in the few hours we were apart.

I was also ridiculously nervous. Sure, last night we’d both admitted we like each other, that we’re trying something more than friends, but this dinnermattered. Ophelia was carrying a lot of damage from her past relationships, she needed and deserved so much time and space and care, and I so badly wanted to get it right. But, we were having dinner with my family and I had no control over how that was going to go. And we weren’t doing it as a couple. We were doing it as friends.

I looked in the mirror one more time, straightening clothes that had already been adjusted to within an inch of their lives, and headed downstairs.

“You dressed up,” Soph accused as soon as she caught sight of me.

I eyed her outfit, trying to fight against the clenching in my stomach. “So did you.”

Terrance laughed from the kitchen. “Don’t worry, Hercules is out-dressing us all tonight.”

I leaned around the door to see into the living room. Sure enough, Mum was in there, brushing Herc’s fur into a sleek side part. She’d put him in a little waistcoat and bow tie too. I couldn’t help but laugh. At least any initial tension could be eased with the world’s most stylish dog. He hadn’t spent much time with Ophelia yesterday—already tucked up in Mum’s bed long before we got home—and we’d been rushing out the door again this morning, but he’d liked her, and I was sure she’d appreciate his outfit.

“He’s definitely going to woo a pretty lady tonight, aren’t you, Hercules?” Mum asked him as she stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Tension shot through me again. “Yeah, about that. Can we all refrain from calling Fia pretty or beautiful or whatever tonight?”

Mum looked at me consideringly, clearly hearing something important in my tone and attempting to figure out whether that was coming from me or Ophelia. “Of course.”

“No comments from me,” Terrance called from the kitchen. Not that I’d been imagining any from him.

Soph eyed me. “But sheisgorgeous. What’s the harm in naming that?”

I sighed. “She’s coming to dinner to have a nice time, not to be treated like a piece of meat with nothing to offer but a pretty face.”

“I love it when people tell me I’m a pretty face.”

I stared at her, deadpan. “You’re a pretty face.”

“Thank you.”

“Not everyone wants to hear that, though. So, please, around Fia, keep it under wraps.”

Soph smirked knowingly, but I wasn’t sure she actually was in the know. “You’re just worried she’s going to realise I’m way cooler than you are and she’ll stop spending so much time with you.”

“Sure, Soph. That’s what I’m worried about. Whatever you want.”

Hearing my underlying frustration, Mum stepped up and put a hand on Soph’s arm. “No comments. We’re all going to have a lovely evening with Fia and not ruin it by making comments about how beautiful she is.”