Page 75 of Never With You
I roll my shoulder, trying to get him off me. “Do you really have to put your arm around me all the time? I think we can get the point across without it.”
“If you’re this charming for all your boyfriends, I can’t imagine why you’re still single.”
My elbow jabs into his ribs, causing him to hunch over in pain.
From the corner of my eye, I see Isaac’s brows twitch under the rim of his sunglasses.Crap, he saw that.I’ll have to spend the next half hour making up for it.
I reluctantly nuzzle my body back into Nate’s—for optics—and look out the window.
“I think you punctured a rib.” Nate rubs his stomach.
“Let’s hope, if it means you’ll die a slow death.”
He chuckles into my ear, and although he’s not whispering directly into it, I still feel the shiver down my back. Now, I’m the one dying a slow death.
“Try to control your temper and act normal for a few minutes because my aunts are watching us right now.”
His aunts?
I discreetly glance around and spot the two women next to Connie Farnsworth. This fabricated relationship is a mutual bargain, a win-win for both of us, meaning we both need to benefit.
“I can behave,” I say.
“Thank you.” His tone is more exasperated than appreciative, but it’s a truce, nonetheless. “You’re going to love the market,” he says in what I guess is an effort to act like a normal couple. “The coolest part is seeing how close the train comes to the vendors’ stalls. They literally have to pull back their awnings and clear their goods off the tracks to make way for the train.”
“How many times a day does the train come through here?” My words are tenser than what’s natural, but I’m easing into my role.
“Something like eight to ten times. Once the train passes, they set their goods back up on the trackside and continue doing business as usual. It’s one of the coolest places I’ve been to in the world, a glimpse of how daily life and transportation come together in the Thai culture.”
There’s a reverent tone to Nate’s words that makes me pause. For all the time I’ve worked with him and all the trips and tours we’ve planned together, I’ve never considered that we share the same love of travel. I always viewed him as just being here for the money, not for the love of the experiences. I might have misjudged him on that. The thought takes the edge off my dislike. Just a little bit. And I hate it.
Beside me, Nate stands, stretching to see out the window. “Here comes the market. Up ahead.” He pulls me to my feet and places his hands on my shoulders, positioning me in front of the window. “That’s the perfect spot for you to see everything.”
I turn over my shoulder. “What about you? Don’t you want to see?”
“I’ve been here before. I just want you to enjoy it.”
Honestly, I just want to enjoy it too. I’ve been dreaming of traveling to Thailand for years. I’m pushing pause on the fake-relationship thing and living in the moment.
“Thanks.” I offer a small smile in appreciation.
“I’m not always the villain you make me out to be.”
“I don’t know about that.” I laugh as I turn back to the window.
The train slows, and suddenly, a crowd of people and shops are outside my window. Some hold cameras, filming as we pass by, while others wave at the train or even try to give high-fives to the passengers.
I love it.
It’s exactly how Nate described it—this perfect glimpse of daily market life and bustling transportation.
Joy bubbles out of me, and I turn to him with wide eyes, giggling. “This is incredible!”
“I told you.” His smile is just as big as mine. “Give me your phone, and I’ll take pictures of you.”
Grabbing the device out of my back pocket, I hand it to him and then look out the window again. “Hi! Hello!” I wave with a smile at all the people below.
“Carly, look here.”
