Page 55 of The Match Faker

After Mia told him where she lived, she shuffled in her seat. She seemed uncomfortable.

‘You okay?’ I whispered.

‘Yeah,’ she murmured.

There was a long pause. She wasn’t okay, but it didn’t feel like it was my place to probe her.

Bad word choice. The sooner I dropped Mia home and pushed these thoughts out of my head, the better.

‘It’s just…’ She paused. ‘The place I’m renting. It’s temporary. It’s…’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ I said quickly. ‘No judgement. Okay?’ She nodded.

As we pulled up outside her block of flats, I admit, I could understand why she was apprehensive bringing me here.

The streets were covered with litter, there were a group of rowdy teenagers loitering, holding beer cans, and the downstairs window of the ground floor flat was boarded up like it’d been smashed.

Was this place even safe for her to stay in? I ground my jaw. I knew it wasn’t my business, but I didn’t like the thought of her staying here.

Never in a million years would I have pictured Mia living somewhere like this. Not because I was judging her. We were both from the same working-class background.

It was strange because Mia was always so careful with money, so I was surprised she was renting. Having a mortgage was more her style.

She was also a clean freak. She’d be the type to have plastic covering her sofas to stop them getting dirty. I’d always imagined her living somewhere immaculate, so to be living here, things needed to be pretty bad.

And I wondered why, if she needed money, she didn’t get a bank loan.

Something told me there was more to her story than she was letting on, but it was Mia’s business, not mine.

‘Thanks for tonight.’ She unbuckled her seat belt, avoiding my gaze.

As she went to open the car door, I grabbed her arm.

‘Wait. Let me walk you up to your flat.’

‘No,’ she jumped in. ‘Thanks, but it’s better if you don’t. This car already stands out. Someone might recognise you and we’ll be drawing the wrong kind of attention. Like I said, I’ll be fine.’

‘Okay, but text me as soon as you’re inside.’

‘Will do.’ She looked up, her gaze finally meeting mine. I couldn’t put my finger on what was behind her eyes. Maybe vulnerability? Like she was apprehensive about me seeing what her life was really like.

This building was worlds apart from the polished office that she rented and the immaculate image she presented. But to me it didn’t matter. I knew who she really was. I wished she remembered that.

‘Well.’ She paused. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ I replied, wondering what to do next. Normally, it was clear. Once I went home with a woman, the night was only headed in one direction: straight to Sexville. But what did you do at the end of a fake date?

We’d discussed how long this would last, the number of dates, and agreed not to see other people, but not talked about moments like this. Like whether we’d pretend to kiss or what level of physical contact was allowed.

We hadn’t even discussed sex. That was because as far as I was concerned, it was implied that it was never going to happen. But for some reason, now it felt like something that we might need to address…

‘So, I’m going now,’ Mia said.

For a second, I wondered if she was thinking the same. Whether she was waiting for me to kiss her.

Did I want to kiss her?

It wasn’t the worst idea. Better that we had our first kiss now instead of in front of the cameras. Less pressure.

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