“Yes,” I admit reluctantly.
“So, is she your forever girl, or what?”
I sit forward, my eyes wide. “Definitelyor what. There is no forever girl for me. I don’t sign on to that shit.”
“That’s what we all say, until she sucks you in and never lets go.”
I think about just how tight she sucked me in on Saturday night. She definitely made her mark on me, that’s for sure.
“Anyway, what’s she like? Is she a party-all-night kinda girl or a quiet, romantic dinner and stroll on the beach kind?”
“Dinner and beach,” I say without even having to think about it. I might have met her twice in a club, but anyone with eyes could tell it’s not her ideal night out.
“Find a nice restaurant, something fancy. Treat her. Then take her to the beach once the sun is setting and see what you can get in the dunes.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“Is that how you got JJ?”
He barks out a laugh. “No, that girl wouldn’t know romance if it hit her in the face.”
I can’t really say I’m surprised; she definitely isn’t the kind who’d expect flowers every Friday night. “Glad I didn’t ask her, then.”
“You’d get nowhere, man.”
The door chimes and Oz’s next client walks in.
“You need any more help, just shout.” I nod as he walks off to his room, trailing behind his client.
My head falls back on the cushion. I feel totally out of my depth right now. If it were anyone else, I’d have bailed, but there’s something about Harlow. Even after not seeing her for four days, my skin still tingles with awareness when I think about our parting kiss. There’s no question in my mind that I want to spend more time with her. I just somehow need to figure out a way to not let her get the wrong idea about what I want.I’m all for enjoying ourselves, but there will be no serious future between us.
I don’t do promises, and I certainly don’t do forevers.
I’m stillin the dark as to what to do when evening rolls around, and if I weren’t so desperate to see her again then I’d have cancelled already. Oz texted me some restaurants to check out after his client left, and when I looked them up, my eyes almost popped out of my head at the prices. I can’t afford shit like that, no matter how incredible Harlow might be. By the time I finish up for the night, I’m not exactly in the mood to head to my aunt and uncle’s for a family dinner I agreed to weeks ago.
I call myself an Uber and head to their side of town. They live in the picture-perfect house with a wraparound porch and swing seat out the front. White picket fence and all. It’s the exact kind of upbringing I’m sure I’d have loved. My aunt and uncle are both incredibly kind and gentle people—unlike my father who’s an uptight, controlling arsehole.
I walk up their driveway to find my uncle’s arse sticking out from their campervan.
“Corey, there you are. Sandy was starting to think you’d bailed on her lasagne.”
“Never,” I say with a laugh, thinking of the home-cooked food I’m desperate for.
He pulls me in for a one-armed man hug, allowing me to see the inside of the camper. It’s almost in its original state. It’s like a time-warp.
“Whoa, this is impressive,” I say, continuing to look around.
“Yep, she’s a beaut all right.”
“You getting ready to take her out?”
“I wish. We haven’t had a chance to get away in months. I feel guilty she hasn’t moved an inch off the drive.”
Ideas start popping up in my head, but when my aunt spots me from the kitchen window and comes running from the house to pull me into her arms, I soon get distracted.
“It’s so good to see you,” she cries as she flies at me.
She’s a petite woman, and her arms barely close around my middle as she holds me.
“The LA sun looks good on you, boy.”
