Page 38 of Kicking it with my Fake Fiancé
Soon enough, my bags were unpacked, we’d showered—without attacking each other’s bodies—we’d eaten breakfast, and we’d even cleaned up. Just as we were about to sit down and relax, the doorbell rang. Matty sprang to his feet and opened the door to Charlie and Heidi standing on the other side.
“Matt, hi,” Charlie said, pulling him into a big hug. From behind her, Heidi waved, a smile on her face.
I glanced at Matty and repeated what Charlie had said wordlessly.Matt?He just shrugged in response.
“It’s good to see you both again. This is Jared.”
“Yes, of course!” She bustled past him and wrapped me in a warm hug as well, squeezing me against her shoulders. “Now, let’s not waste any time getting started.”
Charlie planted us on the couch and interviewed us extensively about our wedding plans—of which we had none so far. She drew out of us what kind of wedding we both wanted, including guests, scale, location, themes, all boring things that I had absolutely zero interest in, and it seemed that Matty felt much the same.
After it became apparent that we were going to be typical, useless grooms in the wedding planning department, she changed gears and quizzed us about the past month, the time we’d spent apart.
“What was the hardest part?” Charlie leaned in, as if we were dishing secrets.
“Not being able to develop our—” Matty started.
“Physical relationship,” I interjected. His gaze whipped in my direction and his cheeks turned a bright red, much the same as they’d done earlier in the morning. I looked at him as innocently as possible, batting my eyelashes. “Right, min kjæreste?”
The blush that had been localized in his cheeks spread rapidly from the tips of his ears to his throat. “Right,” he mumbled, squeezing my hand.
Charlie didn’t miss a beat, grinning widely. “I can imagine. After being apart for half of your lives, it must be nice to have the freedom to explore that dynamic.”
“Something like that,” Matty murmured, looking mostly at his lap. His blush still hadn’t died down.
“I certainly appreciate it,” I said with a smirk.
“Speaking of appreciating things…” Charlie cleared her throat. “Jared, have you told Young Spades management how much you appreciate their new offer?”
My stomach went cold, my expression freezing on my face. “New offer?”
“Oh, I was sure you’d heard by now. Their manager called yours after your last show on the tour. They want to bring you back for the rest of the tour, the whole Canadian leg. Another three months. Congratulations!”
“Are you serious?” Acid flooded my throat.
“Of course. Your manager let us know yesterday. How do you think you’ll handle this new challenge in your relationship, especially with Matty not being allowed to travel outside of the US for now?”
I glanced at Matty, my eyes wide. His expression was a mirror of my own—panic—except with tears pooling in his eyes. He slid his hand out of mine and stood before rushing to the bedroom and shutting the door loudly behind him.
Chapter Twenty
Matty
Matty
With the door shut firmly behind me, I leaned heavily against it for a moment, fighting the tears that threatened to spill out. My mind was reeling.
I knew that it was huge news for Jared to be invited back on tour, but another three months? There was no way I’d survive it. No waywe’dsurvive it. Our chances of getting married were vanishingly slim if he accepted the offer, and ofcoursehe’d accept the offer. He’d be crazy not to. Turning down this offer would end his career, squash his dreams of being a professional musician. I couldn’t let him say no. It meant too much to him. And if he did return to the tour, well… it would be back to Norway for me.
I wanted—needed—to rip off the bandage. If I was going to be sent packing, I needed to do it immediately. I didn’t want to sit around waiting to be deported. I pushed myself off the door and rummaged for my passport in the drawers of the dresser I’d taken over. It was tucked in next to my socks and boxers, and I pulled it out and placed it on the top of the dresser. The next thing I needed to do was pack, I supposed. I grabbed a suitcase from under the bed and tossed it on the duvet before haphazardly dumping my socks and underwear inside.
The door behind me creaked open, and the dam burst, tears coursing down my cheeks. I hated that I was crying, hated that it had all meant so much to me only to get yanked away, and I hated that Jared was going to have to witness my overflow of emotion. I didn’t bother looking behind me, just busied myself with staring hard into my suitcase and moving my hands to fold the clothes.
He took a few quiet steps to me and put his hands on my biceps, pulling me close to him, his chest pressed against my back. “Hey. What are you doing?” His voice was low and quiet in my ear. I shook my head and squirmed away from him. Jared moved to my side and took my hand in his, stilling me from my frantic folding. “Min kjæreste. Talk to me.”
Hearing the Norwegian expression come from his mouth broke something inside me. I dropped the socks I’d been matching and turned to him, my stomach churning with acid. My chin quivered as I spoke, but at least the tears had slowed. “I’m packing.”
“But why?”
