Page 44 of From Best Friend to Bride
“Just take me home, then,” I said with a sigh. “Mum can bring me to get my car in the morning.”
“No, it’s fine, it’s just… Everyone thinks we’re in a relationship, Deli.”
“Yeah, and?”
He half-laughed, half-sighed. “Do you think two people of our age would sleep in separate bedrooms if we were spending the night together?”
Oh. Was that it?
“No, but it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed,” I replied. “We did it just three months ago when you messed up that booking for that engagement party I went to with you.”
He glanced at me. “All right. But if you wake me up after your shower, don’t get mad if I kick you out.”
“How did you know I was going to shower?”
“You shower after every shift, and you keep picking at your arm, which means you have something on it that you can’t get off.” His lips twitched up. “There’s a little packet of wet wipes in the centre console.”
“Oh. First a hairband, now wet wipes. Is there anything you don’t have in this car?” I rummaged through the little storage spot and pulled out a travel-size packet of wipes.
Score.
“With you around? No, there’s probably everything you could possibly need. I think there’s even some pads or tampons in the first aid kit in the back seat.”
I scrubbed at my arm, and the wipes got the worst of the stickiness off. I scrunched it into a ball and reached into the back of his chair for the first aid kit, then unzipped it for a quick nosy.
There were four pads in there—two daytime, two nighttime.
“Wow. I’m starting to understand why nobody is surprised we’re supposedly dating,” I said, zipping it again to put it back where it belonged. “That’s not normal to do for your best friend, do you know that?”
“Our friendship isn’t normal,” he said dryly. “Never has been. Is it any wonder neither of us have been able to have a proper long-term relationship?”
“Hey, that’s not fair. You were with Charlotte for years, and we didn’t act like this then. We’ve always distanced ourselves and been respectful of each other’s partners.”
“Yes, but I spent most of those years with her accusing me of cheating on her,” he reminded me.
“Excuse you, I remember there was one point where we went six months with barely seeing one another. I was ready to dump you as my best friend for good then.”
“Yes, yes, I remember. You know, sometimes I think I should have married her, if only for some peace from you.”
I smacked his arm. “You would have traded my chaos for hers, ended up divorced, and come running back to me.”
He looked over at me with a wry smile as the gates to Hawthorne House creaked open. “How ironic, then, that I’m willingly walking into your chaos only to end up divorced.”
“Wrong. You said we’d get an annulment. It’s not the same thing.”
“I said we’d try.”
“No, you said we’d get an annulment, so I’ll have to remind you to keep your hands to yourself, Lord Frederick.” I sniffed, pushing my hair behind my ears. “I understand that I’m irresistible, but it wouldn’t do for you to defile me.”
“Who wants to defile you?” he shot back and parked the car. “I’d rather sleep with my grandmother’s fluffy cows.”
That wasn’t entirely impossible—Granny did keep bringing them in the hopes he’d agree to let one be a house cow, after all. “Excellent—then I’ll take your bed, and you can go and join them tonight.”
He sighed heavily and dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. “I’m too tired for this.”
I laughed and opened the car door. “Come on, sleepyhead. I’ll take a quick shower, plait my hair, and then read you a bedtime story, all right?”
“Jesus bloody Christ,” he muttered, getting out of the car. “It’s like all my nightmares coming to life at the same time.”
