Page 31 of The Wedding Pact
‘Oh. Maybe tonight, then.’
‘You know what else we should do tonight?’ Flynn asked. His eyes flicked towards the bed, and then he slapped his forehead, as if he immediately regretted what he’d said. ‘Not that! Oh God, I’m not a sex pest, I promise!’
Sleeping with her flatmate would be a b-a-d idea: August did not want him to run a mile, which was her current MO when it came to mixing housing and boyfriends. But right now if he suggested sheliterallyslept next to him in this heavenly cloud of a bed, August would seriously consider it. ‘What?’ she asked.
‘Have a strategy meeting.’
‘Oh,’ she crinkled her nose. ‘That sounds dull. Can’t we just agree you’ll always do the bins if I always clean the toilet?’
‘Not that kind of strategy, I think we need to figure out us, in relation to them,’ he pointed above and below, indicating that he meant their neighbours.
August nodded. ‘I see. We need to bump uglies to decide what we tell people in the building about us being married.’
Flynn looked very surprised. ‘We need to dowhatnow?’
‘Bump uglies.’
‘Um … ’
‘You know, Flynn, bump uglies,’ she tapped the side of her temple. ‘Like, put our heads together.’
He started to chuckle. ‘I don’t think you know what bumping uglies means.’
‘Okay, don’t give me your mansplaining bull—’
‘This is not mansplaining, this is just … friend-splaining. Bumping uglies means … ’ he paused, a dryness seeming to take over his mouth. Flynn was clearly feeling awkward, and in the end mimed it with his fingers like a school boy and mouthed ‘Sex.’
‘No.’ August said firmly, shaking her head. ‘No it doesn’t.’ She stood up and walked to the door, then turned back to look at him. ‘No it doesn’t.’ Grabbing the box of ‘bras’ (dandruff shampoos) from the floor she walked them into her room, pausing briefly to say again, ‘No it doesn’t.’
August reappeared at Flynn’s bedroom door. ‘Does it?’
‘It does,’ he nodded.
‘Well, that explains why I didn’t get called for a second interview for an office job a while ago.’ She shuddered, remembering telling the interviewer that she and he ought to ‘bump uglies’ as soon as she joined the company in order to explore the full potential of his … upward trend. Oh God.
‘Anyway,’ August pressed on, never one to be deterred by past mistakes for long. ‘Yes, let’s have a strategy meeting over some wine tonight. No, let’s not bump uglies, no need to complicate things. Yes, you’re taking the bed, and the bedroom, because I’ve already been plotting how to decorate my space anyway. And do you want anything from Ikea?’
‘I don’t know,’ he stood up, letting any embarrassment slide away. ‘Shall we unpack and see where we are?’
‘Good idea. And Flynn?’ August picked up another box, and Flynn leaned against his doorframe to listen to her. She took in his form for a moment, assessing his kind face, his tall physique, his dark hair and his at-home posture. ‘Thank you for moving in with me. I think we’re going to get along just fine.’
He appeared to take her in for a moment too, so she flashed him a sunny smile which he returned. ‘Thank you for convincing me. I think we’ll have a lot of fun.’
Chapter 22
Flynn
Three hours later, August walked through the door of the apartment and lobbed a tube of tin foil at Flynn. He caught it reflexively with one hand, and then realised it was a tightly wrapped baguette sandwich.
He looked from her to her closed bedroom door. ‘What’s this? I thought you were in your room!’
‘This is lunch, because I know all the best places to eat around here and you know nothing.’
‘Thank you, I think.’
August pulled two cans of Fanta from her handbag and cracked them open, sitting down at the round table in the centre of the living room and beckoning Flynn to join her. ‘I didn’t know what you like, apart from pizza, so I asked for yours to be cheese, pepperoni and peppers. Is that okay?’
‘It sounds delicious.’
