Page 16 of Pretender

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, although I appreciate the love, brothers.” I lean my head back in my chair, avoiding their scrutinising stares.

Sebastian scoffs. “I mean it.”

“Me too,” I say, sitting up again to look at them both. “I’m the same as always. Just staying active. Still searching for love, you know—dating, letting Mum set me up.” And she’s been ramping that up lately. Jesus.

“But are you, though? You went on a date with Katrina Starre, for Christ’s sake,” Sebastian says.

I shrug, though I agree it was a waste of time, and I hate that the What Happens in Mayfair blogger has focused on it. And that it’s on Katrina’s page. She’s an influencer or socialite, whatever the official title is, which isn’t a negative thing on its own, but she collects stories from dates with rich or famous men like trophies. I’m not sure why I thought there’s a chance people had just misunderstood her, that there’d be more beneath the surface, but she was definitely only in it for the story and a free night out in an expensive club. And she’s one of many with that motivation. Seems I can’t find the right people. The right person.

“Just broadening my horizons. You would never have dated Rey if it wasn’t for the masquerade.” I direct the last part to Mark, and he shrugs. He knows it’s true.

“But taking Katrina Starre out…” Sebastian says, the disdain in his voice palpable. “I hope you wore protection,” he mutters.

“Hey, don’t be a twat.” I glare at him. “It’s the girls that need protection from you, right?”

Sebastian stills. His eyes on mine, but there’s no comeback. Maybe I’m the one who should ask if he’s okay.

“And no,” I add. “I mean, I didn’t have to.” I lean my elbows onto my knees, meeting Sebastian’s dark eyes. “You know I don’t sleep with everyone I go out with, right? I’m not a player like you,” I say, gesturing to him. I hide the shame at taking my issues out on him behind a smirk.

“Get off your high horse, Aiden. You have Le Lounge for your needs.” His voice is calm, but the implication stings.

It’s not at all the same. He’s just jealous… He didn’t get through the membership process because of his frequent tasteless press appearances.

Sebastian glances at Mark. “And I don’t do that anymore, for the record.”

Mark raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t weigh in.

“Yeah, well.” I sigh. “Guys, just let me keep doing what I’m doing. I’m good.”

I take the last sip of my whiskey and push off my chair.

“On that lovely note—arrivederci, gentlemen. I’m off to someone who thinks better of me than you two arseholes.” I do an exaggerated bow and wave before I head out.

“Say hi to your mum,” Mark shouts after me.

“Gioia mia, you made it,” Mum croons.

My joy. Ever since I was little, she’s called me this.

She kisses both my cheeks, leaving wet patches on my skin that turn cold in the evening breeze. I step into the hallway, and she studies me, her smile widening. “You look so like your father.” She pats my cheek. “My handsome boy.”

Every time…

I’ve not had the heart to tell her I don’t like to hear it. The only reason I endure it is knowing that she means it in the best way.

Mum moves down the hall towards the kitchen. “Come through, we’re all in the garden.”

“All?” Her partner, Will, moved in earlier this year, but I can hear other voices too, and it doesn’t take long to realise…

“Mum,” I whisper-shout and stop her in the kitchen before we make it outside. “Are you setting me up again?” I ask, in Italian this time.

“What? Well… I—She’s just so beautiful, Aiden.” Bellissima, she says.

“Mamma.” She gets my narrowest of angry eyes.

“I know I said I wouldn’t do it after last time,” she says, in English now.

“Three last times, Mum.” Fuck, I hate how hard she’s trying, and it’s not working. Mum’s idea of who I should be with is just not the same as mine. “Aren’t you worried about losing your friends at one point? That one girl was quite sad.”