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“Honestly!” Evie twisted the cap open and closed on her juice. “Someone’s starved for attention.”
She’s so cute when she’s flustered. Nick laughed. “You like me,” he sang back.
“Would I be friends with you if I didn’t?”
“Okay, but this like, is it—”
“Nikolai Crispin Balfour!” Evie pointed her juice at him. “Keep going and you’ll be wearing this!” She bit her lip like she was quashing a grin.
“Yeah, I saw how you gawked. You want me shirtless again—admit it!” Nick bounced his brows as Evie stared back, her mouth agape.
“Okay. Fine.” A pinkish hue brightened her cheeks. “Yes. Yes, I would. I mean, who doesn’t appreciate—” She halted, slipping into an eye-scrunched headshake. “GOD! Shut up, Evie!” Blinking, she dropped the juice in her bag. “Please don’t tell Bree I said that. Shit, I haven’t even met her and I’m…” Evie dissolved into a mumble and fussed with her purse’s zipper.
Fretting over nothing. Nick scratched his jaw. “Listen, Evie—”
“How is she?” Smiling tightly, Evie looked up. “Bree?”
“She’s good.” They ambled around the corner, a red, rectangular post box imbedded in its stone wall. “Last I heard.”
Evie gasped. “You…you broke up?”
“If you could call it that. The truth is, we were never really together.”
Her expression wavered between gobsmacked and elated. “Oh! Nick, I’m so sorry. Long distance sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, but Bree and I weren’t together-together. We weren’t a real couple. The whole thing was fake.”
Confusion clouded Evie’s gaze. “Fake? But I saw—”
“Stories? Photos?” Nick interjected. “Heading to the cinema, hanging at Wimbledon, walking Ross?”
“Holding hands, cuddling, kissing!” Evie added.
“All acting, all the time.” Nick peeked over a bushy hedge as they strolled past, the house behind it cloaked in darkness. “We’d go out and the Dalston PR team would ring up the papers, tell them where to find us.”
“But…why go to all the trouble?”
“Money and exposure. If people thought Bree and I were a real-life couple, more might tune in. The more people tuning in, the higher the ratings. The higher the ratings, the higher the advertising revenue. Everyone benefits.”
Evie hugged her waist. “By lying to everyone.”
“It wasn’t done maliciously. Fake relationships happen all the time in our industry. Bree and I weren’t the first, and we definitely won’t be the last.”
“How long were you…?”
“A year and a half. It started when I was sixteen, just before Jake and Amanda slept together, and ended when the Dalston Christmas special aired.”
Easing into a squint, Evie’s lips puckered like she was trying to figure something out. “So, it ended around the time of your Ba’ visit?”
“Give or take a week, yeah. It wasn’t a big ask. Bree and I were—are—good mates. We hung out a lot, weren’t dating anyone. Neither of us could think of a downside.”
“But you had to put your private life on hold,” said Evie. “That’s massive.”
“To be honest it wasn’t completely on hold. We could date if we wanted.” Approaching a pair of forgotten recycling bins, both Nick and Evie swerved. “Provided we kept all activities behind closed doors and had the person sign an airtight non-disclosure agreement. Bree tried it for a while but eventually gave up. Was a total hassle.”
“So, you’ve never had a real relationship, then?”
Brows knotting briefly, he flashed a smile. “I’m twenty years old, Evie. What do you think?”
