He scoffs. ‘Liar.’
‘I haven’t since you dared me not to.’
‘Well, I do.’ He jumps out of bed. ‘Andyoudared me to stick to it. So, we need to go!’
I don’t know what’s worse– how determined he is to stay organised or just how sexy I seem to find it. I have no energy left to be mad at the cold space between us, I’m too busy resisting theurge to jump on him again. I need to cool down– it’s ridiculous. I’m like a cat in heat. One look at him and I lose every ounce of sense I have.
‘You OK?’ he asks, smirking far too much for my liking.
‘Mmhmm.’ It’s not remotely believable.
‘Sure. . . Well, I’m gonna shower. You coming?’ he asks, hand reaching down to the bed.
‘I fear for our time management if I do,’ I sulk, slapping his hand away.
He laughs wholeheartedly and leans in for one last kiss before heading to my ensuite.
I lie flat on my back, my hair bonnet rustling against the silk pillow as I replay the events of the weekend in my head. They burn in vivid colour, as rich and vibrant as they were when they happened, drowning out the water that runs faintly in the distance. Me and Aiden. Aiden and me. It’s something I never dared dream of and somehow everything I’ve ever needed.
It feels too much like a dream– something that could only exist between Evie’s tall walls. My heart murmurs slightly, in time with the thought of what happens when we leave– when the bubble bursts and we’re back to who we were before we got here.
Will he still like me?
My stomach drops. The thought grows with each passing second.
You’re being stupid. It’s been five minutes.
I try to shake it off, but it’s no use. The pit in my stomach is too deep and there’s only one cure for it, or rather three cures waiting for me in our group chat.
I reach across the bed for my phone, stretching as far as I can without moving. It feels foreign in my hand, the way I’ve ignored it for the past few days. But it’s time to get back to business andsoft launch reality, if you will. I need a second, third and fourth opinion before my head explodes on this expensive bedding.
I squint as it turns on, the lock screen aggressively shining back at me as I wait for my eyes to adjust. The wallpaper flashes to reveal a smiling girl, dressed in a full leotard and holding a trophy. It’s not my phone. A message lights up the screen, causing the previously stacked ones to unfurl. I drop it immediately, but not before I catch my name, multiple times.
I shouldn’t. I know that. It’s not good for me. Not good for us and whatever this is.
I trust him.
I don’t know him.
I need to know what it says.
The shower’s still running, the water echoing across the bathroom’s marble walls and mingling with whatever joyful tune he’s humming. He’s not leaving any time soon and I don’t plan to have a full look, just a peek to set my mind at ease.
It’s probably nothing.
I shouldn’t do it.
But what if it’s not?
I can’t start whatever this is on a foundation of distrust!
Fuck it. It is definitely better to know. It’ll be nothing, and I’ll feel stupid and will never need to look again.
I trust the gnaw in my gut and the shake in my hands. They wouldn’t do this over nothing. With one final glance at the bathroom door, I take a breath, reach out my hand and bring the screen closer.
MaddisonClarke? This has to be a joke. . .
NotMoany Maddy?!
