Page 53 of Pretender

This is what I spent most of my life believing my parents had. The stories Dad told me about when he met Mum. The ‘it’ Mum has been feeding me through rom-coms and her optimism all these years. Even after learning more about my dad, I wanted that part to be true, wanted to find it for myself.

“It’s nothing to get worked up about,” I say while untying the hand wraps, but Mark raises his brows at me with a smirk. He doesn’t believe me any more than I do.

“You’ve always wanted her.” Mark punches the bag, and the chain rattles loudly.

“What makes you say that?”

“Putting it all together now.”

He lands a decent uppercut and another right hook.

“Yeah, well,” I start once he’s finished. “I wanted a woman who was married. I guess I didn’t look at it too closely.”

“She’s not married anymore, so what’s the problem? Did you tell her?” Mark unties his hand wraps as well. We’re done for the morning.

I let out a long breath. “No. It kind of came up. And it … kind of came up, so we talked about attraction briefly.”

“You got a hard-on when she kissed you and she questioned it?”

“Sort of.”

Mark chuckles, wiping his face with his towel. “Sauna?”

“Sounds good.”

We head into Mark’s wooden sauna, and he switches on the infrared light for muscle therapy while we’re in here.

“So,” Mark continues. “What did she say when you talked about it?”

“She wouldn’t have entered a fake dating arrangement with a client if there was a risk she’d fall for me.” And I’ll never tell her this, but she might as well have kicked me in the solar plexus because that comment made me struggle to breathe.

“Ouch.” Mark winces.

“Yes, a bit of Norwegian bluntness right there, I guess.” I lean my head back and close my eyes, focusing on the damp heat rolling down the back of my nose and into my lungs as I drag in a long breath.

“Charming.”

“She didn’t say it to be hurtful. I appreciate she’s trying to be clear with me.”

Oh, but she did not agree when I said she’s a good kisser. Another gut punch.

She just went ‘uh’ like she wanted to laugh, but held it back. The kiss was nothing to her. Fuck, that stung. Stings again now when I think of it.

“So now what? Are you just going to pine after her while she’s pretending to like you in front of your mum?” Mark asks.

“I guess.”

“It sounds like torture.”

“Yeah.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes, the heat enveloping us in the small wooden room.

Mark sighs. “I’m sorry. I told her she should be more handsy with you, but I didn’t realise you felt like that.”

I shake my head, but his eyes are closed.

“Nah, it’s cool, man. I’ll take her fake touch over no touch at all.”