‘I can’t believe you’re together,’ Todd mutters, clearly deeply unhappy about it.
‘Well, you pushed us together,’ I tell him sweetly. ‘At the wedding. So thank you. Both of you.’
Brody glances at me again, one eyebrow raised like he’s tryingto decide whether he’s impressed or bemused or what. I can’t tell if I’m enjoying this or freaking out. Maybe it’s a bit of both.
I jump as a voice booms through the room – presumably from a speaker somewhere – interrupting our epically awkward moment for us.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, please report to your designated muster stations for the mandatory safety drill.’
‘Come on, Nikki, let’s go,’ Todd says as he offers her his hand.
‘This is literally horrendous,’ she tells him – not at all in hushed tones.
Brody and I hang back a second, until it’s just the two of us.
‘Erm, right… so what exactly is happening?’ Brody asks me, still oh-so cool about it.
‘It would seem that, given our situation, the wedding planner has had to shove us all in here, to figure out sleeping arrangements for ourselves,’ I inform him.
‘How thoughtful of her,’ he replies. ‘I had to speak to her – she didn’t seem like a happy person.’
‘No, she didn’t, did she?’ I reply. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Not just in this suite – at the wedding. I didn’t connect the dots.’
‘I’m the best man,’ he says, holding his hands out, ta-da style.
‘Yeah, in hindsight, I remember Kelsey saying Neil’s best man was one of his old friends,’ I reply. ‘Because I was surprised it wasn’t…’
‘Todd?’ he replies. ‘Not surprised now, are you? He’s a tool, I’m a delight.’
I can’t help but laugh, just a little.
‘So we’re sharing a room?’ he checks.
‘Unless we get off the ship,’ I reply.
‘There’s no getting off now,’ he replies. ‘I was one of the last to board. They’ve shut the door or whatever. No turning back now.’
‘Then yep, we’re sharing a room,’ I tell him.
‘Unless we go boys in one, girls in another,’ he suggests – presumably joking.
‘I’d sooner swim back to shore,’ I reply. ‘So, you’re just down for this? This whole weird situation, telling people we’re a couple, sharing a room – and sharing a living space with our exes. You’re the kind of guy who just puts his name down for shit like that?’
‘Well, I didn’t want to embarrass my girlfriend in front of her ex,’ he jokes. ‘And you didn’t seem like you weren’t up for it – for pretending, I mean.’
‘Yeah, obviously, because I don’t want to look like a loser in front of them,’ I reply. ‘Not because I’m so keen to share a room with you again.’
‘You could have fooled me,’ he replies.
God, he’s infuriating. He strolls to the kitchenette like he owns the place, running his hand over the sleek worktops.
‘You started this,’ he tells me.
‘Erm, how do you reckon?’ I reply.
‘Showing up for breakfast in my clothes was always going to get tongues wagging,’ he says.
‘You gave me the clothes,’ I snap back.
