by Olivia Burke
Aubrey laughed, blond hair swinging as he helped her slip into her jacket. They waved goodbye to Natalie and the others, ignoring how the staff giggled at the two of them together. They walked home side by side, close enough to touch but not quite reaching for each other. Tom ached to hold her hand, the way they’d done while walking to the tattoo shop. It’d felt so natural to him.
They paused at her side of the street, with Tom’s house just across the pavement. Standing on the sidewalk together, Tom swallowed hard, wondering if he’d be brave enough to attempt to kiss her. Or if she’d even let him kiss her if he made the move.
She looked up at him and smiled, the street light catching in her blue eyes. “Well, guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Right, in the morning,” he repeated like a dolt.
She waited a half a beat longer before taking a step back, heading to her porch. Tom heaved a breath, mentally kicking himself as he crossed the street to his porch. When he turned to see her one last time, he found her already looking his way; they shared a wave goodnight before she went inside, front door shutting behind her. Tom dragged himself inside and up the stairs, cursing himself.
“You, Thomas Flanagan, are a giant, ginger chicken.”
On the morning of their scheduled photoshoot, Aubrey stared at her closet without really seeing anything inside. She couldn’t stop thinking about last night, not only about meeting Tom’s strict father, but the way things had gone south after he’d left. And the fact that she’d wanted Tom to kiss her last night, had almost hoped he would, but of course he hadn’t. Because we are just friends.
Aubrey would’ve been lying to herself if she said her heart hadn’t sank last night during the conversation about Tom’s ideal girl. She wanted to kick herself, both for letting the discussion happen, and for the way it made her feel completely inadequate. Even with her strangely mixed emotions about Tom, even if she would want to be his real girlfriend, now she didn’t think she’d ever be good enough for him.
Aubrey sighed again, tugging a shirt off its hanger. The writer who’d emailed her, Courtney, had said to bring a few things she felt comfortable in. Now that Aubrey had her entire wardrobe in front of her, she hated every last piece of fabric. All confusing thoughts about Tom aside, this was still a photoshoot for a magazine, and Aubrey wanted to look great. Luckily, her hair was behaving today, holding the long, loose curls she’d spent half an hour on after perfecting her makeup.
Aubrey threw on her standard black tank and favorite ripped jeans, but grabbed several other things – probably way too much, but better to have options – and headed out the door. Driving to the studio using the address given to her by the writer, she managed to arrive at the same time as Tom, who unloaded his own bag of clothes from the passenger seat.
“Hey,” Aubrey said, unsure how to greet him out here in the open.
“In case anyone’s watching.” He bent down and brushed his lips against her cheek, leaving her skin tingling. His husky voice lingered in her ears with his soft, “Hey.”
They walked into the studio together, both stopping in their tracks at the mock kitchen setup inside the lavish, modern space. Most of the utensils were toys, bright and colorful, and ingredients lined the shelves above fake stoves. A soft click caught their attention, and Aubrey glanced over to see a photographer adjusting his equipment and tripod.
“Hi, guys!” A female voice shouted from the back. “You must be Aubrey and Thomas. Congratulations on winning your awards!”
A young woman appeared from the small office to the side, waving at them.
“I’m Courtney,” she said enthusiastically. “I’m the writer for our feature, thanks so much for being here. This is Robert, our photographer.”
An older man by the camera offered them a friendly wave, but otherwise stayed where he was, looking over his camera.
Courtney continued to talk a million miles a minute, leaving Aubrey’s head spinning. “I’m also coordinating everything today. Let’s go over everything in case you have questions.”
They got the tour, including the restrooms and changing rooms. Courtney urged them to get ready, which Aubrey took as “change out of those clothes immediately.” She went into a private room, keeping the ripped jeans – they made her butt look great, after all – but swapping the black tank for a flowy blue top that made her eyes even bluer than usual. A few minutes later, they were out in the studio, with Aubrey having been volunteered by Courtney to go first.
“Okay, so while Robert takes your picture, let’s chat about you. How long have you bartended for LUSH?” Courtney asked. The interview continued with questions about Aubrey’s background – which admittedly made her uncomfortable, given that her family would be reading this with scowls on their faces – and her time at the restaurant.
Tom sat in a chair, grinning at Aubrey as she had her picture taken. When he caught her eye, the butterflies in her stomach twirled, but she rolled her eyes.
“I feel very foolish right now,” she said.
“Don’t be,” Tom said, grinning widely. “You look fantastic. Definitely model material.”
“Oh, shut up, Tommy.” Aubrey couldn’t help but giggle. “You just wait until it’s you up here, having to preen on the catwalk.”
“I’ve never preened in my life,” Tom shot back good-naturedly.
“You’re up next, Chef, don’t get too smug yet.”
“I was kinda hoping I could get my picture taken with you instead of on my own,” Tom asked with a smirk. “I mean, they should probably get a photo of you with your award-winning boyfriend, right?”
Aubrey burst into laughter, but Courtney’s squeal cut it off.
“Oh em gee, you guys are dating?” Courtney exclaimed. “How did I not know this already? That is completely adorbs! And what a perfect angle to the story!”
Courtney continued on like that, the exclamation points of every sentence practically vibrating in the air with her excitement. Aubrey and Tom exchanged an eye roll.
“This changes everything,” Courtney said, gesturing to Robert. They bent their heads together, whispering for a few minutes while Aubrey and Tom had a seat in nearby chairs.
“Okay guys, we’re going to photograph you two together, if that’s all right,” Courtney said suddenly, snapping them back up and into the shot. “Robert will get you situated and I’m going to interview you two about each other instead of yourselves.”
Aubrey and Tom stood awkwardly next to each other. “This is your fault,” he whispered under his breath.
“My fault?” Aubrey squawked. “You’re the one who ‘let it slip.’”
“Only because you were teasing me.”
“All right, kids, time for a little fun,” Robert said, bringing them together for his shot.
“So,” Courtney said, catching their attention. “You two met thanks to LUSH?”
They nodded, and Aubrey found herself reaching for Tom’s hand. In solidarity, she told herself, though the tingles in her skin said otherwise.
“Tom, what does Aubrey bring to LUSH that makes her such a good bartender?”
“I mean, are you kidding? Look at her,” Tom said, gesturing to his fake girlfriend. “Not only is she beautiful, but she’s ridiculously personable, especially behind the bar. She has the quickest wit of anyone I know.”
He went on about her intelligence and sense of humor to the point that Courtney was nearly gushing in her excitement. Aubrey blushed to the tips of her ears at his compliments, but inside she was glowing.
“And Aubrey, what do you love about Tom?”
“What do I love?” she repeated. She looked up at Tom, taking a second to smile at him as she considered her words. “He’s kind – like the sweetest guy you’ve ever met, completely unlike most head chefs.”
Tom chuckled, but she pressed on, the words rushing out before she could stop herself. “And speaking of funny, no one makes me laugh like he does. He opened his home to me the second I started work
ing at LUSH; I’ve never been so comfortable around a person, much less a guy. He makes me feel beautiful even when I’m wearing yoga pants and t-shirts.”
“Oh my gosh, you guys are the cutest,” Courtney exclaimed. “I have so many more questions!”
An hour flew by, perhaps one of the most fun hours Aubrey had ever had in her entire life. Robert had them play-fight with utensils and flour in the bright, fake kitchen; he’d move them together and apart, but somehow, Tom made Aubrey laugh the whole time, easing the worries in her stomach at how silly she felt. She and Tom were covered in flour, but Tom’s eyes sparkled as they stayed close to each other. They answered Courtney’s questions, chatting the entire time as if they’d been dating for years, not weeks.
“Great, that’s great,” Robert said behind the camera. He gestured with both hands for them to move closer. “Now Tom, stand behind Aubrey and wrap your arms around her.”
“Oh, uh,” Tom said, hesitating.
“Oh, come on,” Aubrey said.
She grabbed his arms and flung them around her body, his left arm around her waist and right arm over her non-tattooed shoulder. The movement pulled her close to his chest, and she could swear his heart pounded against her left shoulder. He adjusted his arms, his chef’s knife tattoo catching a bit in the light.
“That is an amazing tattoo, Tom,” Courtney said, pointing to his arm. “It looks new, did you just get it?”
“Yes, actually,” Tom said, taking a second to admire the artwork. “Aubrey helped me out.”
“How so?”
“Well, she dragged me to the studio after calling me out for being a chicken,” he said.
Aubrey burst out laughing, and Tom joined her, while the clicking of Robert’s camera went off like crazy. When they’d finally stopped laughing, Aubrey looked up to see Robert smiling as he flipped through a few of the shots he’d just taken.
“Now, how about a kiss?” he asked.
Aubrey spun on her heel, so fast she wondered if she appeared too eager. But Tom looked down at her, a question on his face, and she nodded.
“I mean, we have to sell it, right?” she asked with a grin.
“It’s a tough gig, but I suppose I’m up for the challenge,” he said drily.
They stood inches apart; Aubrey could feel the heat coming off Tom’s chest. She was vaguely aware of Robert’s camera clicks in the background, but could only really focus on the light sprinkle of freckles and flour across Tom’s nose, and his long lashes that framed his kind, mocha brown eyes.
Tom closed the gap, leaning down to press his lips against hers. Aubrey’s mind went momentarily blank; the only thing she could concentrate on were his soft lips, at the firm, confident kiss that had her up on her tiptoes. Her arms snaked around his neck and she pulled him closer, allowing herself to get caught up in the moment. When he finally pulled away, he stayed close, his nose brushing against hers as she took in a shaky breath. She hoped he couldn’t hear her heart threatening to pound right out of her chest.
“Whew,” Courtney said, fanning herself with her legal pad. “You two have major chemistry.”
Tom’s face blushed, and Aubrey felt her own go hot. They broke apart, while Robert let Courtney know he thought they had what they needed. Courtney thanked them profusely for coming, promising to send them copies of the latest issue as soon as it arrived in their office.
“You two make an amazing couple,” she gushed. “It’s so sweet to see a couple so madly in love.”
Something about the words made Aubrey’s insides hurt. Tommy isn’t in love with me. She was surprised to find herself almost disappointed by the fact, and that scared her a little, because if she admitted it, she’d have to wonder why it did. She didn’t think she could have that conversation with herself, not about Tom of all people.
“We want to have them ready for the party, so I’m hoping to get them to you the day before or morning of,” Courtney said. She waved them out of the studio, grinning like a madwoman. “Now I have to go see the rest of these photos! It was great meeting you guys.”
“I can’t believe we did that,” Aubrey said, laughing as they left the studio. “For a magazine! Now everyone will think we’re dating.”
“Eh, maybe I want the entire town to know we’re dating.” Tom shot her a grin so cute and confident that Aubrey couldn’t help but melt a little. But his next words made her freeze up again.
“I mean, because that’d be good for LUSH, right?”
“Right,” Aubrey echoed. “Good for LUSH.”
So if the fake dating idea was so great for their restaurant, why did Aubrey suddenly feel like she’d come up with the worst idea ever?
Tom would’ve been lying if he said he hadn’t dropped that little boyfriend comment in front of Courtney so they could get a photo together. It wasn’t that he wanted it in the magazine, but he was hoping he could ask the writer for a copy of the image once they were out. Any excuse to cozy up to Aubrey was good enough for him.
But that had led to the kiss. The kiss that Tom would measure up all other kisses in the future, as terrible as that sounded. He could hardly even remember the rest of the day’s activities after that kiss, or the days after. He vaguely remembered working, but Aubrey had been scheduled off, so without her around, his thoughts stayed with her instead.
Tonight, however, he had to be on his best game for her family. Tom wore a nice blue button-up and slacks – he was saving his suits for the upcoming wedding and awards reception – with a tie he borrowed from Seth.
Aubrey exited her house, standing on her porch and giving him a little pose. She wore a sunshine yellow dress that popped against her tan skin, with a watermelon pink wrap and heels.
“Wow, you look great,” he said, spinning his finger around. “Give us a little twirl.”
Aubrey giggled but complied, the bottom of her skirt flaring as she spun. Tom gulped, now worried he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else but her long legs in those sky-high heels.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Flanagan.”
Tom’s hand flew to his chest. “Oh, please, never call me that again. It makes me sound so old. Like my pop.”
Aubrey snorted, which made Tom laugh, and they giggled all the way to his car. He opened the door for her and helped her inside before getting himself situated. The drive over was short, too short in his opinion, and he noticed Aubrey grew quieter the closer they got.
Without thinking, he kept his left hand on the wheel and reached for her hand with his right one. “You okay?”
She squeezed his fingers. “Yep.”
“Aubs.”
“No,” she groaned. “I’m dreading this entire night.”
“It’s like a band-aid,” Tom said as he pulled into her parents’ neighborhood. “I mean, you’ve been waiting for it for months, and just think, now it’s almost over.”
His words seem to calm her, and she stopped fidgeting with the fringe of her brightly-colored wrap. Her other hand, however, hadn’t let go of him even as he parked.
“Tips for you,” Aubrey said, thinking it over. “Call my parents ‘Dr. Walker’ until they correct you. My mother especially hates being called ‘Mrs.’ Dad will probably offer you bourbon, which I’m sure you won’t mind.”
Tom waggled his eyebrows at her. “I most certainly won’t.”
She giggled, listing off a few more things, such as complimenting whatever her mother’s caterer made, and ignoring whatever her aunties said.
“Also, I’m hoping my cousins don’t share embarrassing childhood stories, but I’d say there’s a zero percent chance of them giving me a break,” she said. “But I think you’ll really like Logan and Cody; they’re much more our kind of people than those stuffy academics.”
Tom squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be fine, Aubs, I promise. We’ll get through this unscathed.”
“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Aubrey said, glancing at him. “I really don’t know what I’d do wi
thout you.”
“Reserve all thanks until after dinner when you can review my performance in full,” he said, making her laugh.
He parked on the street outside her parents’ house, quickly got out, and circled around to open the door for her. She accepted his offered hand, and didn’t let go as they made their way to the house. Not that he minded. He let her lead them up the walkway to the stately brick home, knowing better than to comment when she paused at the front door to take in a deep breath.
They entered the home, warmth coming over them. Tom took a moment to appreciate the tasteful foyer and the massive formal living room off to the left. Sounds of a party floated through the house, soft voices and clinking glasses, while classical music played in the background. It smelled nice, too, like apples and cinnamon, probably from the glowing candles near the entryway.
“You grew up here?” he asked Aubrey out of the side of his mouth. She gave him a little nod. “Nice.”
It was a far cry from the cramped apartment he grew up in; after his mother died, Chef Flanagan Senior sold their house, claiming it was too big. He and Tom spent all their time in a kitchen anyway, he reasoned, so no need for so much space. Shaking the memories away, Tom took Aubrey’s wrap for her and hung it on the nearby standing coatrack. With his back turned, he didn’t see her mother walk up.
“Aubrey, you’re late,” she said.
“We’re three minutes late, Mum.”
Tom turned quickly on his heel, but her mother wasn’t quite done yet.
“Yellow?” Dr. Walker asked as she gave Aubrey a once-over. “Darling, it’s fall, why are you still wearing summer colors?”
Tom’s insides burned when Aubrey faltered, her hands tentatively smoothing down the skirt. He slipped an arm around her waist and met her mother’s eyes, adopting an easy smile to avoid tension. “Aubrey’s beautiful in any color, but she basically is sunshine in dress.”
Dr. Walker hummed in thought under her breath, giving him an approving look. “Spoken like a man in love. You must be Chef Thomas Flanagan.”
