Page 7 of Because of Me

This was not part of the plan.

Fakedating, Amira. Fake.

But I can’t look at him without wondering why I never thought to date him for real. I try to remind myself of all the reasons I brushed off the idea of him, but they seem inconsequential compared to this.

The heat of a blush creeps over my collarbones and up my neck and I’m about to turn back into the bathroom to splash cold water over my face when Noah turns his body towards me. His lips curl up in a smirk and he winks. He mouths something over the sea of heads now finding their seats, and I’ve never been any good at reading lips but given the way his shoulders shake afterwards, I’d bet he calls me ‘Cupcake’.

Soft piano music begins to chime, signalling the start of the ceremony, and Ella calls me over to my place in front of the crowd. There are easily over one hundred people here, but only one set of eyes are on me. Noah’s gaze never breaks. It leaves goosebumps over my skin, like the cool air and warm sun when you step out of the waves on the beach. I shift on my feet, thankful when the ceremony nears its end. Standing in line, I clap politely when the celebrant proudly announces the married couple.

I watch with a smile as my cousin kisses her husband, but relief floods over me when they walk through their guests and everyone turns their backs to watch them go. They stop for another kiss at the back of the crowd and everyone awes. Everyone except Noah. Who still has his eyes on me.

“Introduce me to him.” Ella’s elbow hits my ribcage in what I think wasmeantto be a friendly jab. But it hurts, and I wince at her unintentional strength.

“I’d rather take a bite out of the cake before Kaya gets to cut it.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

I snatch two glasses of sparkling wine from a roving waiter and pass one to my cousin. “A few more of these and I might.”

After we sip our drinks, I shift a little to the side to look through the crowd. We’re standing on the outskirts of the dancefloor, but I find Noah instantly. He’s like a beacon of light in the dark sea and I try to tell myself it’s only because of how tall he is, but I know it’s something more. Maybe it was a coincidence that I looked right at him without having to scan the crowd, but maybe, wishfully, I wonder if it’s more.

He has seamlessly, by the look of it, inserted himself into a small group of people. They talk and laugh, and you’d never know that before tonight he’d never met anyone in this room. I’m glad he’s mingling, glad he’s comfortable enough to not cling to me the second he had a chance, glad I have a few more moments to figure out what I’m going to say when I introduce him to my family. I can almost hear my father’s disapproving questions already.

This time, Noah hasn’t seen me watching, so I shift my gaze before he does. Near the centre of the crowd, my parents converse with another couple and a young man. My father looks almost sorrowful. His shoulders are hunched and he bows his head as he shakes the young man’s hand. Although they seem occupied now, it’s only a matter of time before my father struts over demanding to meet my so-called boyfriend.

I probably should have given Noah more of a heads-up. He’s a smart enough man—he’d have to have at least a few wits to run the events at the winery after all—so he’s probably figured out that my parents have some rather … traditional … views on relationships and women. But he may not have been expecting the sheer mass of overprotectiveness that’s about to head his way.

“Does your dad like him?” Ella changes the subject ever so slightly. Only I don’t think it’s any better.

I finish my cheap wine before I answer. It’s acidic and crisp, and the bubbles feel sharp against my tongue even after I swallow. Nothing like the fancy wine I’ve come to appreciate from Noah’s winery. I started drinking those because they came cheap or sometimes free, with uneven or torn labels. But apparently, the Mornington Peninsula’s best winery has ruined my palate for anything else.

“Dad hasn’t met him yet.”

Ella’s eyes widen briefly, and she throws her free hand across her chest. “You really threw him in the deep end, didn’t you?”

“I suppose I did. He’ll be alright though. I’ll introduce them as soon as I can find another glass. I need all the liquid courage I can get for that conversation.”

Her laugh is petite and refined, and almost as soon as she starts she snaps her mouth shut again. If she knew the extent of why I wanted to be a little buzzed before facing my father, she’d throw her head back with a large chuckle instead.

“Speaking of,” she says, “I think your father may have found him.”

I look over my shoulder, and sure enough, my dad is now making a beeline for Noah. I can only assume he’s figured out Noah is my date and is on his way to berate him for not introducing himself first. Or to question Noah’s intentions with his daughter. Me; I’m the daughter and I hate that my father still thinks he deserves some kind of say in the people I date. But there’s no time to fret over my mild family trauma. I need to save Noah from the firing line.

He signed up to be my date for this wedding. My fake boyfriend. Not my father’s metaphorical punching bag. I leave Ella behind and race across the room.

“Dad!” I call out when I realise I have no chance of getting to Noah first.

Freezing mid-step, he turns his head when he hears me calling. The rough, greying ends of his overgrown beard catch on his tailored vest. As I rush towards him, weaving around other guests, his eyebrows pinch together. Over his shoulder, I see Noah break away from the people he was mingling with. He steps into the crowd, but before I can call him over my father places a firm hand on my arm.

“My princess.” His voice is slick with the kind of cutesy adoration one holds for their only daughter, but it churns my stomach.

I search for a waiter, for another glass of the wine—although I’d take anything with an alcohol per cent higher than two right now. We’re too close to the centre of the crowd though, and none of the waiters even try to get close enough for me to swipe a drink. All the guests still crowd around the dance floor, as though waiting for permission to spread out between the high tables.

“So.” My father squeezes my arm as he draws out the word. “I had a date lined up for you, and instead you chose to bring a blond Australian boy, and you haven’t even had the nerve to introduce us.”

NOAH

Iknew, long before I helped Amira out of the car earlier today that I was not going to like her father. Knew their relationship was strained at best. That he wants things for her she doesn’t want for herself, and that he is so pushy he led her to faking a relationship just to escape his scrutiny for one evening.

---