Page 107 of The Home Grown
“I’m not sure your plan is going to work,” Hutch says. “Because who gets married that quickly? Though … I think people will buy it. Because if there’s any one of us who’d get married on a whim, it’d be you. Hands down. People would definitely believe that. Maybe not Johnny, but at least you have Kelly on your side there—shit, does your sister know?”
God, this keeps getting worse. Because of course I’ll have to tell my sister. And I know she’ll probably force me to tell my mam—assuming she doesn’t already know. Although, I am supposed to be telling her anyway and—fuck. This is a complete nightmare.
“I told you the score,” I say to Hutch. “Kelly doesn’t know.” I bury my head in my hands before looking back towards Ellie. “Kitch, this is?—”
“Don’t worry,” she says, cutting me off. “We just need to work out a timeline. Besides, what we’re doing shouldn’tbe anyone else’s business. All you need to say is that our relationship is private, and you want to keep it that way.”
Okay, well, that makes sense. She’s smart, and that’s exactly what I need in this situation. Someone with their head on straight.
“Or…” Hutch butts in, “now hear me out … you could tell Coach you lied and forfeit your spot.” His voice is playful, but I know there’s a small speck of realism in there. “Maybe he’ll take pity on you, with all that stuff online. Just like that ‘justice for Bettsy’ person.”
“He’s absolutely not giving up his spot,” Ellie says.
“Well, maybe?—”
“Stop it. Please, Hutch,” I say and his eyes meet mine, the desperation I’m feeling hitting him square in the chest as he nods.
“Okay, I won’t say anything. You know that. And neither will Danny. So just keep it that way. Everyone else, well, they can think it’s legit.”
But I know there’s no way in hell I can lie to Johnny. And it’s his reaction that I’m worried about the most.
Chapter Twenty-Two
ELLIE
Well,this is different. The buzz of excitement I was never expecting. It warms my skin. It warms my heart. It … it’s happening.
Was it the sex I didn’t realise I needed? Sex withMike,I didn’t realise I needed. Or was it the freedom to choose my own path? Making itmydecision to go along with Mike’s narrative.
Whatever it is, it feels oddly satisfying. Like this is the way I was heading all along and, for some reason, fate forced me to take the scenic route, just to make sure I’d appreciate the destination.
And as I sit on the sofa with Mike—the same sofa we had sex on, an hour ago—I realise my life will never be the same.
And I’m okay with that, because Mike is here and there’s no pressure. No expectation of anything now. We’re simply two people who have an unwavering connection that has somehow pulled us back together after years apart, watching an old episode of a TV game show like we’ve been doing it for years. Though I’m convinced he’s seen this one before because heanswers every single question in fluid certainty, and he’s only been wrong once. Once.
“How many times have you seen this episode?” I ask.
“I haven’t,” he says, his eyes flicking towards me for a second before he looks back at the screen.
“Really?”
“Damselfly,” he says, answering the next question before the multiple-choice answers pop up.
“Huh,” I say. “How did you know that?”
“Damselflies have more flexible wings than dragonflies,” he says, matter-of-fact. “That’s why they fold them in when they land.” He points at the screen, considering the other options. “And it’s definitely not a horsefly or a mayfly—unless either of those suddenly learned grace.”
I stare at him. Blinking several times before asking, “and how did you knowthat?”
“Saw it on a documentary,” he shrugs.
I reach for my phone and tap ‘damselfly’ into the search engine, looking through the image results.
“I can’t say I’ve ever seen a damselfly before.”
“Well, they’re abundant near freshwater so maybe we need to go damsel-watching.” He grins at me, a smile that sends a wave of flutters to my stomach.
“I—that’s interesting.”
