Try hard, p.19
Try Hard, page 19
“You deserve the world, Ophelia,” Eve said softly.
I didn’t know about that, but I would forever be grateful at getting a second shot at the world she existed in.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “So, yeah, when all of that was happening, the stubborn part of me kicked in, and I decided I was taking my body back. From both my ex and the doctor—and, in a way, from myself too. I couldn’t decide what happened with the whole… vaginismus thing, but I could own every other part of my body. So I did. And I ended up liking swimming. I took it a little far at one point, but I have a healthier relationship with the whole thing these days. Not the… vaginismus, obviously, but the other stuff. And nobody ever gets to tell me it’s because I’m chubby again.”
“You’re so strong,” Eve said, and she sounded like she meant it. “You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here, still strong and perfect—which, just for the record and the people who apparently need to hear it, you always have been. And I’m so grateful to you for letting me in.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal.”
“It is, and I know that. And I’m here for you.”
I squeezed her tightly, though I wondered if it felt like nothing compared to her. “Guess I’m glad I was stubborn enough to survive it all then.”
“I like that you’re stubborn,” she replied, apparently picking up on the fact that stubbornness was another thing I’d been told was wrong about me.
Was it possible that there was someone who could like all the things about you that other people hated? It felt ridiculous and impossible that, for me, that person could be Eve Archer. But here she was.
I squeezed her tighter again, trying to put all of my feelings into it. “Just for your record, while we’re on it, I meant what I said at brunch. You’ve always been perfect too, and anyone who has ever said otherwise is wrong.”
She laughed, and I was almost certain she pressed a quick kiss to my shoulder.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Eve
“What’s with the face?” Soph asked when she let herself into Mum’s place and found me lying on the floor, covered in Hercules.
“Rude,” I shot back, working to look less murderous than I felt.
I hadn’t been able to shake the conversation with Ophelia all day, even once I’d dropped her back home. She was so good, so impossibly perfect, and I hated that anyone—let alone multiple people—had taken the gift of her being in their lives as an opportunity to destroy her. Of course, she was fighting back, but the scars they’d left, the things they’d said to her, the damage they’d done—none of that was okay.
I was no stranger to cruel or unsolicited opinions about people’s bodies, but Ophelia contending with someone who was supposed to love her—supposed to worship every inch of her—tearing her down with gross and unwarranted commentary on her body was already bad enough. To then abuse the privilege of her love to force her into things she didn’t want to do… I didn’t have words for how furious I was on her behalf. And that didn’t even begin to cover the doctor who was then supposed to help her, only to hand more weapons of torture to her ex. Disgusting.
But I wasn’t about to tell Soph about that and be yet another person betraying Ophelia. All I wanted in the world was for her to know she was safe with me.
Soph snorted and walked past me to sit on the couch. She moved like she couldn’t care less, but something about the controlled way she collapsed down into the seat and crossed one leg over the other felt less casual than she was going for. And that was when I noticed her outfit was just a little too nice for dinner with Mum and me on a random Wednesday.
“You look nice,” I said, wrestling Herc with me as I moved to sit up. The troublemaker was like a sack of uncooperative bricks.
“Don’t change the subject,” she said with a scowl. “Why are you staring at the ceiling like you want to tear it down?”
“Ugh. No reason.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fine. It’s just… righteous indignation on someone else’s behalf.”
“Fia’s?” she asked, immediately lighting up.
“No.”
She frowned, drumming her freshly-painted black nails against her knee. “I don’t believe you.”
I shot her an unbothered look. “That’s your prerogative, but it doesn’t change my answer.”
“It’s not fair for you to have secrets with her, you know? I knew her first.”
“No, you did not! You were still in primary school when I met her.”
She rolled her eyes and swept her long hair over her shoulder. “So, you admit it’s about her.”
“No,” I scoffed. “I told you it’s not.”
“Fine. So, where is she, then?”
I looked around, frowning. “At home, I assume.”
“And why isn’t she here? When are you inviting her over for dinner? I want to hang out with her.”
I fought against the uncomfortable wave of nausea. I really needed to get that under control. I still wasn’t sure whether Ophelia wanted anything romantic with me, but everyone had been right that it was me she was spending time with. Not Soph.
I swallowed hard and shrugged as nonchalantly as I could manage. “She’s a busy woman.”
Soph snorted. “And the fact that she’s spending so much of her precious time with a poor man’s American is, frankly, absurd.”
“A poor man’s American?” I stared at her, aghast. “What have I ever done to you? Jesus.”
She shot me a pointed look. “As if you’ve forgotten the time you took my Forever Friends flask.”
“That was my flask! It came with the lunchbox. You’re the one who stole it from me.”
Soph paused, looking mildly amused as the truth of the situation settled around her, the memory returning. She waved a hand in my direction. “Yeah, well, get over it. That was years ago.”
“You’re the one who brought it up!”
She laughed. “And, now, I’m telling you to move on. But make sure you bring Fia around while you’re moving on. Thanks.”
“You’re a menace,” I said, shaking my head and hugging Herc tightly.
“Thank you. I know.” She flashed me a grin, tilting her head in such a way that the light caught on her nose piercing and seemed impossibly like a sparkly special effect, like the whole universe was happy with how much she was winding me up.
The door opened again and Mum came in. Her smile became a little puzzled when she spotted Soph on the couch. I guessed she hadn’t been expecting her so early.
Soph sat up straighter, leaning towards our mum. “Ah, great. Now that you’re here, you can tell Eve that she should be inviting Fia round for dinner.”
Mum’s confusion cleared instantly and she looked at me with a mix of amusement and delight. “I think that sounds like a great idea.”
“I’m sure you do,” I shot back with a laugh.
“Is she free tonight?”
“No.”
She was, actually. Kind of. But I didn’t think being quizzed by my thirsty sister and my expectant mother was what Ophelia needed tonight.
“Apparently,” Soph said, sounding entirely exasperated, “she’s a busy woman.”
Mum smiled at her. “I believe it. Quite the jet-setting young lady.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I was certain that there were any number of people with whom Ophelia would take issue at being addressed like that. I wasn’t sure whether Mum was one of them, but I found myself desperately wanting to know the answer.
“Right,” Soph agreed readily. “So, don’t you think it’s weird that she’s spending so much time with this tryhard?”
“Sophie, be nice,” Mum said with a frown. “Eve is also very well travelled. I’m sure they have lots of things to talk about.”
I could hear the unspoken excitement and hope in my mum’s voice, but, if Soph could, she didn’t show any sign of it.
Instead, she groaned. “At this rate, she’ll be leaving again and I won’t have gotten to spend any time at all with her.”
Mum hummed. “Well, maybe it would be a good idea to have her over for dinner. You know, so the whole family can spend some more time with her before she’s jetting off again.”
My stomach twisted like I’d been stabbed at the reminder we were on something of a clock here. Sure, Ophelia and I both had homes in London, but, once the wedding was over, I’d be heading back there and she’d be off travelling again. That, more than anything, had me actually wanting to invite her to dinner with my whole family.
“Yeah,” Soph agreed excitedly. “Text her right now and ask her to come over for dinner.”
“Oh, but not Friday night,” Mum said quickly. “Terrance and I have tickets for Hadestown so we’ll be staying in London.”
“It’s the stag and hen on Friday,” I said slowly, suddenly realising that meant I’d have the house to myself that night.
“That’s right. Well, good timing. Maybe Saturday night?”
I laughed. After a late Friday night and a potential early Saturday morning, if we were going plane spotting again, I wasn’t sure whether Ophelia would be in any mood to have dinner with my mum, Soph, and Terrance. “We’ll see.”
“See now,” Soph demanded, nodding eagerly to urge me on as Mum shot her a suspicious look.
“No, thank you. I’ll ask later.”
“But I won’t be here to get the answer then.”
“I know your number. I can just text you.” I paused and frowned at her. “What do you mean, you won’t be here? Aren’t you staying for dinner?”
“No.” Soph straightened and looked away, suddenly reserved and controlled.
Well, that probably explained Mum’s confusion at finding her here. It did nothing for my confusion, though.
“Your sister has a prior engagement,” Mum said loftily before calling Herc and heading off to the kitchen to feed him.
I eyed Soph. “Why’d you come over?”
“To talk about Fia. Obviously.” She shot me a look like I was entirely baffling.
“Right,” I replied, somewhat amused. “But you have other plans tonight?”
Mum had said it like she had a date. But, here she was, still trying to get at Ophelia?
“Yes,” she said, holding my gaze defiantly. “With a friend.”
“Does this friend have a name?”
“No, Eve, I have hundreds of friends who have no names.”
“Is it a date?”
“No.” She said it like the concept was ridiculous and couldn’t be further from the truth, and I faltered.
Soph had always been a good liar, but was she even lying? Maybe it had just been Mum stirring the pot again? Or it was an ill-advised attempt to stop me worrying that Soph wanted Fia.
“Where are you going?” I asked, more confused than ever.
“Concert. I’d tell you the band but there’s no way you’d know them.”
“My musical tastes are expansive, thank you very much.”
She snorted. “And we’re well known for having similar tastes.”
I hesitated. She had me there. Mum had even wanted to give Fia a trophy for finally having the two of us agree on something. “Fair point.”
She smiled smugly. “So, it’s just you and Mum for dinner. But… on Saturday, it can be the four of us and Fia. Won’t that be lovely?”
“Mm, yes. I’m sure that’s just what Fia wants—an evening of you spilling food over yourself because you’re too busy checking her out.”
“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “I used to meet with her multiple times a week. I’m perfectly capable of playing it cool around her.”
Well, that made one of us.
“Oh, yeah, you were super chill the other day.”
“People love hearing how great they look. It’s fine.”
I wasn’t sure that was true in Ophelia’s case—but, then, you needed to know her better than Soph did to have any inclination about that. I was not the kind of person to pit myself against my sister, but I really was glad I was the one who knew Ophelia well enough to have some understanding about how she felt when people commented on her appearance.
“You know,” I said lightly, “she might not come.”
Soph flicked two fingers through the air as if batting that notion away. “Just tell her Terrance is making ital stew. She’ll be here. Especially when you go on and on about how good it is. We all know you could write a dissertation on how much you love it.”
“So, you’ve already decided Fia doesn’t have a choice but to come to dinner, and now, you’re deciding Terrance is cooking and you’re picking the menu? I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”
“He’ll understand when he sees her.”
“I really hope he won’t.” A shiver shot up my back, leaving creeped out goosebumps in its wake.
Soph laughed darkly and stood up, smoothing her hands over her denim bustier. “Well, I have to be off now. Text me when Fia says yes.”
“I’ll think about it,” I muttered, still curious about who she was going out with. The outfit did suit a concert, but Soph wasn’t usually shy about who she was hanging out with. Of course, it had been a long time since I’d really known all of her friends, so maybe it was less evasion and more reluctance to have to describe who her friends were and how she knew them?
She swept by me with a satisfied, superior air, and called a parting greeting to our mum.
I flopped back onto the floor once she was gone. Putting her and Ophelia at the same table didn’t feel like the best idea, but I wasn’t going to make the choice for Ophelia. She was perfectly capable of deciding for herself whether that was how she wanted to spend her Saturday night.
First, though, I was curious about how she’d be spending her Friday night.
I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message. Remember how I said I’d escort you to the stag and hen party on Friday?
She was quick to reply and I liked how, even with how few words she used, I could hear her exact tone in my head. Yes. Why?
I grinned. Well, I just found out that my mum and Terrance are staying in London that night. So, I was thinking, if you wanted, it might be fun if you stayed here? That way we could just go and return together and we wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, no matter what time we get back…?
It took longer for her to reply and I couldn’t do anything but imagine the way her eyes would narrow as she considered my proposal.
Eventually, the typing bubble appeared again. Sure. Makes sense. And, if you’re going to Gatwick again on Saturday, we could drive together.
My chest felt like it exploded. The churning in my stomach was much more pleasant, even with its nervous edge over getting to spend a whole night with Ophelia.
I leapt up from the floor, replying to tell her I absolutely wanted to drive to Gatwick with her, and I headed into the kitchen to help Mum with dinner, a massive smile plastered across my face.
I’d ask about Saturday night later.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fia
The venue was already packed, the party in full swing, when we arrived. The fact that Kim and Kieran had hired an entire nightclub for their joint stag and hen party was just another sign of how massive the wedding was going to be. The week between the party and the wedding suggested things were going to get pretty wild, too.
“Ready?” Eve asked by the door as if she could sense my apprehension. Maybe she could.
I nodded. “Sure.”
She smirked like she knew I wasn’t quite telling the truth and moved to pull the door open.
Just inside were two people in all black who looked at us expectantly.
“Names, please?” one of them asked.
“Pendrick and Archer,” Eve said with a huge grin.
Her hand found my back again and it struck me how natural that was becoming—not just the feeling of her touching me, but the ease of how she did it. She hadn’t even looked away from the two checking the guestlist. And, just as automatically, I stepped closer into her. I was pretty sure teenage me died a little.
“Fia?” the bouncer asked, looking between the two of us. They were apparently going in order of which name Eve said first.
I nodded briefly as Eve shot me the biggest grin and told them, “Yes, she is.”
“Archer,” I breathed, not truly exasperated.
“And… oh.” They looked up at Eve with wide eyes, and I tensed, knowing what was coming. “Eve Archer?”
“The one and only,” Eve replied with a laugh, perfectly at ease. Her hand stroked the side of my ribs and I knew she’d felt my stress.
“Wow,” they breathed as the other bouncer shot them a questioning look before eyeing Eve with interest. “Well, um, have a great night!”
“You too,” she said, shooting them a finger gun with her free hand. “I hope it doesn’t get too rowdy for you.”
“Uh-huh,” they breathed as Eve led me away.
“It’s remarkable just how many people know you, Archer,” I said quietly as we headed for the internal doors.
She laughed and shot me a look. “Come now, Ophelia. They were obviously queer. That’s like… my whole audience.”
“Sure,” was all I got out because she chose that exact moment to slide her hand across my back, down my arm, and to take my hand in hers.
As a teenager, I’d pictured that more times than I wanted to admit.
But Eve was tactile. And it wasn’t like she’d interlaced our fingers. I’d pictured that more than I’d like to admit, too. I’d watch the way she gripped the rugby ball, the way she wrapped her arms around people in scrums, and, while I’d never wanted to be in a scrum, I’d desperately wondered what it felt like when she touched you. Now, I didn’t have to wonder anymore, but that didn’t mean I understood it.
Knowing I wouldn’t want to walk in first, she pulled the door open with her free hand and led the way through the crowd. I stayed close behind her, clutching her hand tightly.
