Page 62 of Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)
And our fake-dating, friends-with-benefits arrangement ends.
Except I’m not ready to let her go yet.
Chapter Eighteen
Will
“It just doesn’t feel right, Margo making plans for the family.I’mthe one who does that.”
I tug Mac closer and kiss her cheek. She met me from work, and we’re walking home across the park. “Did you make plans for tomorrow, then?”
It never crossed my mind she’d want to spend the day with her dad rather than me. I’ve got so used to her being around, I assumed she wouldn’t have anything else planned. How insane is that? Just as well I didn’t book a surprise getaway.
She shoots me an exasperated frown. “That’s not thepoint. If wearedoing a family thing to wave me off to Uni, it should be up to me to plan it.”
“You didn’t organize anything?”
She pulls a face. “Will. You’retotallymissing the point of this conversation.”
I grin, which obviously isn’t the right reaction since she fake punches my shoulder. “Did you tell her you can’t make it?”
“I didn’t get the chance.Apparently, Harry and Alice have already said they’re going.”
My amusement fades. “Right.”
She pokes me in the ribs. “You haven’t heard the best bit yet. She asked if I wanted you to come, too. Now, why would she ask that? It’s just weird.”
It’s my turn to frown. Although I often turn up at Carter get-togethers, it doesn’t make sense to be invited to this. “Lucas must be going.” Strange he didn’t mention it, though.
“What?” She gives me ahave you lost your mindlook. “How can he be going when he’s in Spain? Why would you even say that?”
That’s my cue to tell her about tomorrow night. “Because—”
“God, that’d be a nightmare.” She gives a theatrical shudder. “Can you imagine it?”
Unfortunately, yes. “What did you tell her?”
“I couldn’t say no without sounding like a bitch, could I? The thing is…” She hesitates and bites her lip, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable. I have the crazy urge to wrap her in my arms and tell her everything’s going to be fine.
It’s only a bloody family lunch.
“What?” I prompt, when it appears she’s not going to finish.
She heaves a sigh. “I don’t know.” She shoots me a strangely furtive glance. “You don’t think she’s guessed about us, do you?”
Jesus. That’d be fun. “Why would she?”
“I’m probably overthinking it. There’s no reason why she would.”
She’s got me overthinking it, now. “Where does your dad think you’ve been all this week?”
“With friends,” she says vaguely. “I mean, I see him during the day when he’s around. Actually, since it’s all come out into the open with Margo, he’s been going out more than he used to.” She pauses. “Or maybe he’s been doing that for a while? How would I know, when I’ve been at Uni?”
“Do you want me to come?”
“You can if you want.”
Not the reply I was hoping for.
