“O-kay.” The uncertainty in his voice has me fearing he’s ready to bolt from the crazy woman propositioning him. “Is he an ex-boyfriend or something?”
“Or something. So, is that a yes?” I’m still worried that my friends would come over before we can get our story straight.
“What exactly do you need me to do?” He says this with a small smile that reassures me he doesn’t think I’m barking mad.
“Just look like you and I are together.”
He surprises me by standing up, his eyes flicking over to our captive audience across the room. “He likes you,” Neil tells me before he leans in and brushes his lips to mine.
My knees wobble, brain freezing, unable to process his words and his actions at the same time. Luckily, he has a hand at my hip, reminding my body to stay still or risk losing contact.
“I wouldn’t mind more of this, Jess, but”—Neil checks his watch—“I’ve gotta get back to the office. But, hey, you haven’t asked me how I like my coffee.”
I nod, my ability to speak still AWOL while my lips continue to tingle at the remembered touch of his mouth. It takes me another second to get words out. “How…um, do you like your coffee?”
“In bed.”
My jaw drops, making Neil laugh—a nice, easy sound I can get used to.
“I’m kidding. I’ll see you at work when you get back. We can work out a time you can tell me that long story. Maybe over coffee?”
I nod again, glad that my back is to Keats and Isabella.
Neil gives them a final wave, grins at me, then leaves the café.
Now that’s what I call a friend with benefits.
Chapter 21
Late-September
Isabella is already outside the public swimming pool by the time I get there. She’s in jeans, a warm knit top and a scarf. It’s late September now but it still feels like winter as soon as the sun goes down. Tonight, Isabella has her frizzy brown hair in a ponytail, ready to do some serious swimming. I told her last year to let her artificially straightened, newly blonde hair grow back to its natural state to test whether Keats would still like her. It seems he still does.
I’m fifteen minutes late, but instead of the usual frown that my anal-retentive friend used to greet me for my tardiness, Isabella just looks relieved.
“Hi, Jess. Thanks for coming,” she says, getting off the eatery seat where she was waiting for me. She shoulders her gear bag and we make our way down to the entrance of the Olympic-sized indoor pool. “It would have been way too weird going by myself with Keats. Thank goodness he’s running late, too.”
I got the call from her last night about swimming after work tonight. I cancelled watching a movie with Neil to make it here, which is a big sacrifice because coffee with him the other week had been fun. That had been followed by lunch last week, which ended with the movie date invitation for tonight.
But there’s no way I was going to let Keats be alone with Isabella. They had chemistry once after all. Oh, and there is the wedding to save, of course. Besides, I have inside info that he’s horny as hell. That whole celibacy thing.
Isabella texts Keats that we’re inside, puts her bag down on a seat along the long edge of the Olympic-length pool and strips off her top and shorts, until only black bikini bottoms and a royal blue tankini remains. She looks like she’s gained weight in the month she’s been back living with her folks, and is now back to an Australian size 8—a size I would kill for—but her gown is a size 6.
“The dress doesn’t fit me again. I swear, my mother has no concept of a pre-wedding diet,” she complains.
I wish I had a parent who cooked me meals.
“She wants you to come over, by the way,” she continues. “Her plans to fatten people up doesn’t stop with me. You swimming tonight?”
I look at her tight body again. There’s no way I’m standing in swimwear next to that.
“No. Just here to chaperone.”
She winces. “Please don’t make it obvious though, okay? It was weird to say yes to tonight, but I thought it would be weirder to say no. Byron said he was okay with me going swimming with his brother. But, he’s so trusting.”
I nod with a thoughtful expression.
“I mean, Keats and I are over so it should be fine?” Isabella looks at me for confirmation. “People do stuff with their brothers-in-law, right? I didn’t want to read too much into this invitation.”
“Husbands do things with their brothers-in-law. Not wives with their brothers-in-law.”
Isabella nods, mouth tight with consternation. She exhales a slow breath as if to destress. “So, how was your lunch date with Neil?”
I shrug, unsure how much to tell her. Isabella had lived in England for five years before coming back to Australia for a few months last year. We might’ve shared (most of) our crushes and boy angst in high school, but she and I had never discussed our relationships before—we hadn’t had any till after she left Brisbane after uni.
“It was fine,” I say. I’d told Jillie more, like how flirty Neil had been. “But we’re going to have Friday night drinks tomorrow.”
“Oh, that sounds promising.” She gives my hand a squeeze, but her smile freezes a second later. “Oh crap, he’s here,” Isabella says under her breath. “Hi, Keats!” A big smile that looks genuine. I wonder what else she fakes if she can be this convincing.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late,” he says, walking up to her with a wry smile. He leans in and gives her a kiss on the cheek before he looks up and notices me. “Hey, Jess. You swimming?”
“Hell, no,” I say.
He raises a brow at me, probably wondering what I’m doing here if I’m not participating. I hate the fact he looks hot in tracksuit pants and a T-shirt, his nicely muscled
