Fake (West Hollywood 1)

“Damn right I am.”

“Thank you for staying and keeping my mopey ass company tonight,” I said. “And for ordering all the ice cream.”

“Anytime, Norah.”

I couldn’t bring myself to go to sleep in his room. The scent of him lingered on the pillows and it made me miss him too much. In fact, I couldn’t bring myself to go to sleep at all for the longest time. Instead, I stared at the shadows on the ceiling and second-guessed just about every choice I’d made since birth. As you do.

But mostly I revisited the things I’d said and done since stepping foot inside this house. I couldn’t say I’d have done anything differently. My brain, however, regurgitated it all for my overthinking pleasure anyway.

For all of my good intentions to remain single and get my shit sorted, I’d ended up in a relationship. A bit of a failure on my part, though I’d been wildly attracted to him from the start. There was no way I wouldn’t have found myself in bed with the man having been given half the chance. Patrick Walsh naked and willing was always bound to blow my mind. How we’d wound up having a relationship above and beyond the contractual obligations and attempt at friendship was a doozy. I really hadn’t seen that coming. Yet now we were together even though he was on the other side of the world (or halfway there) and I had no idea what the future held. Or if we had a future at all.

This was the problem with me and relationships. I always fell too far, too fast. Long before I knew what I was doing, it was already too late and I was in over my head. At least I’d had the sense to pick someone who wanted me back this time. Thank goodness for that. And I wanted all of Paddy. Fake had been fine for a while, but real was light-years better. Being with him couldn’t come at the cost of me building a career for myself, however.

Sensible Norah would not allow it. Love-struck Norah might wail and gnash her teeth, but too bad. I could not afford to revert to thinking with my vagina and my heart alone. My brain must be allowed to have a say. The fact was, relationships weren’t always forever. I’d learned that from my earlier epic dating misadventures. I couldn’t exist solely for the benefit of a man. As tempting as that might be. It was time to seize the fucking day and get a life.

I would totally do that right after I cried myself to sleep.

My first morning without Patrick went like this: No messages from Angie for the first time in forever. No Patrick-centric timetable to be managed. My life was once more my own and I had all this time on my hands. Which was a slightly strange feeling after the past couple of weeks. There’d always been something nerve-inducing coming up on the schedule. Some huge public spectacle. But no more. Now that he was gone, there probably weren’t even any paparazzi up at the gate. I might be able to dump the bodyguard soon and be a free woman. How extraordinary to go back to blending in with the general public.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and applied approximately three tubes of concealer to cover the dark patches beneath my eyes. My teary pink-tinged eyeballs required eye drops, which I didn’t have. Maybe I could hide them behind big dark sunglasses in the meantime. I refused to be the sad lonely girl. I was a fully grown and capable woman. So even if I was dragging my somewhat despondent ass around town, I’d do it in style. I tied my hair back in a ponytail and donned a Carolina Herrera blue gingham summer dress. Made me kind of look like a quaint country picnic come to life, but it was cheerful, dammit.

This was the first day of the rest of my life. I could do this. I could be someone besides Patrick Walsh’s fiancée. It had only taken thirty years, but I would always be a work in progress, on the way to being the best possible version of me. Hell yes.

And I believed that right up until I walked into the kitchen to find Mei and Paddy sitting at the table drinking coffee. He was rumpled, his tee all creased and hair in disarray. The way it got when he’d been all restless and shoving his fingers through it over a prolonged period. Stubble lined his jaw and the bruising under his eyes was even more pronounced than mine. An impressive feat.

“What are you doing here?” Oh, dear. That was me screeching. Never a good look. “Paddy?”

Mei stood. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks,” he said.

She just nodded, giving me a quick smile.