Page 34 of Rafferty's Rules
There really were none of that.
And, hell, those kinds of things I’d like to remember!
‘We’d... slept together,’ he answers succinctly. ‘End of story. Shared a bed, nothing else.’
I feel the tension rush from my body. No one wants to think they lost their virginity yet missed the experience. Because that would be rape, my mind oh, so helpfully supplies. And that’s so not him. Not the man who’d protected me, who’d taken me in, fed me, and made me laugh until my sides ache.
‘Same side as last night?’ he asks, making his way to the other side of the bed, his thumb tucked inside the knot of the towel.
‘Wait!’ He pauses, and I gather myself, aiming to deliver my question in a bright tone. Even though the words seem to have a mind of their own and come out as slightly hysterical instead. ‘Why did you tell Roman we were dating?’
From across the room, I can see him weighing his response.
‘I didn’t want him thinking you were just some casual fuck.’
‘Why? He wouldn’t have been rude to me, would he?’ He didn’t seem the type to go out of his way to spoil someone’s evening, let alone be offensive.
‘No. Look, I don’t know.’ He runs his hand through his hair, and I think the bottom of my jaw just dropped from the action. A bicep tautening, a ripple of muscle from those chocolate block abs, and all cognisance is gone—kaput!
‘It was on a whim, on instinct. I just opened my mouth, and the words flew out.’ His hands find his hips, and he just looks disturbed. ‘I like you, Lis. I just didn’t want him thinking shit about you, which is why I didn’t tell him the truth.’
He was protecting me? Wow. The supposed love of my life takes me for a fool, and I swear on all that is holy, I’ll never cry over a man again. Yet a stranger can unarm me with kindness and just a few words. Gammie always said the Bible got it wrong when it said all men were created equal. For the first time, I know where she was coming from.
‘I know what it’s like to fuck up,’ he continues, ‘and I know what it feels like to be judged. And I just, I suppose that wasn’t happening on my watch.’
‘That’s very sweet of you, but haven’t you sort of cornered yourself now, what with your brother’s wedding and all?’
‘Actually, I reckon I’ve done the opposite. I could do with a mate, and you need somewhere to stay.’
‘A mate? Like a friend? In exchange for me staying here?’ I point my index finger to the floor to be sure I’m getting this straight.
‘Well, I’d like to think we could be friends without any kind of inducement on my part.’ He smiles so sweetly I feel my blood sugar spike, but I still feel like I’m missing something. ‘Mates help each other out, don’t they? And I need a date. A date to the wedding.’
‘But you’ve already told Roman we’re dating. So that means we can’t go as friends.’
‘We go as real friends, but I was thinking you could be my girlfriend for the day. My fake girlfriend. What do you say?’
‘I say... ’ Why? Why does this man need afakegirlfriend? How?
‘Free accommodation, no need to join a cruise you’re clearly not into. That’ll leave you with cash to spend. Maybe even enough for a flight home. Plus, I’ll even chuck in a local tour guide to show you around Sydney when I’m around. Not to mention attending the wedding of the century, according to my mother, at the most beautiful winery in New South Wales.’
‘You’re really trying to sell this to me. But why?’
He pauses, and his smiling façade drops away. ‘I fucked up, Lissa, last time I was home. I’ve spent my life living up to my place in my family—the one who’ll find trouble, and if there wasn’t trouble to be found, I was the cause of it. My family looks at me and thinks I’m not able to put one foot in front of the other without screwing up. I’ve spent more than a year away from home fixing my mistakes, and I need a friend for this trip back. Someone who’ll hold my hand.’
His words hit me viscerally. Even though I feel like I was never meant to be this person, when my life went to hell in a handbasket, my family accused me of “acting out”. I know what it feels like to be judged. And I know what it feels like to be a little crazy. And I want to stay in Sydney, and more than that, I want to help my new friend in repayment for him helping me.
‘I’ll throw in a flight to the States, if it’ll help. This really would mean a lot to me.’
‘Rafferty,’ I almost whisper, my butt still in the chair. ‘You don’t have to pay me anything to be your friend. Friends help each other, and Lord knows you’ve helped me.’ His tentative smile grows into one of sheer relief. ‘I can’t say I understand why you need a fake girlfriend, unless it’s to warn off the swarms of single women looking to score a hookup or a new beau. But whatever the deal is,’ I add quickly. While his expression doesn’t falter, it somehow seems that his smile of relief looks like it’s been somehow frozen in place.Like a sketch or a painting that’s been sprayed with a chemical fixative. ‘Whatever the deal is, I’m your girl.’
Chapter 9
RAFFERTY
I’ve always been a good sleeper. I can sleep anywhere. Mum always said she could peg me to a washing line in my pyjamas, and I’d happily sleep the night there. But I’m not sleeping tonight. And I didn’t sleep well last night.
They say a gentleman never kisses and tells, but it’s not my mouth that’s seeking kisses, and it’s not my hands that seemed to have multiplied, sliding over my skin, touching me everywhere at once.
