Tom felt his laughter fade. Shit. What was he doing? Pretending to be Chelsea’s Mr. Nice Guy? What a joke. He wasn’t a nice guy. He was being a creep. He never should have agreed to this stupid deal. In a moment of madness, he’d thought he could show her she deserved better. And OK, a small part of him wanted Chelsea to look at him differently for a change. Not just as nice, dependable, easygoing Tom. But as hot Tom.
All this stupid arrangement was doing was highlighting Tom’s inappropriate feelings for Chelsea. She wouldn’t find him hot unless all the bad boys suddenly and inexplicably disappeared from the face of the earth. Until then, he needed to get a grip.
Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Chelsea lowered her head and looked at him, tears of laughter in her eyes.
‘Hey,’ she said, ‘little do I know, you might have booby trapped dinner so you’d have to give me mouth-to-mouth.’
Tom put his hands on her waist and shifted her onto the seat beside him, slipping out from underneath her weight. He left her sitting on the sofa and went to collect the plates, needing to put some distance between them.
‘Not my style, I’m afraid. I prefer a woman who wants to kiss me.’ He didn’t do a very good job of hiding his annoyance, which meant Chelsea had gotten under his skin more than he’d first thought.
Chelsea frowned. ‘Sorry, it was a just a joke. I wasn’t implying . . . I didn’t mean . . . You know what? I’m pleading a momentary lapse of reasoning on account of the lack of oxygen to my brain, alright? Of course you’d prefer a woman who wants to kiss you.’
Just not you.
Stop it, Tom. You’re being childish.
‘Naturally,’ he replied easily, despite his shoulders feeling tight and the disturbing conversation happening in his head. ‘And someone might think you were trying to get out of the earlier topic of conversation by almost dying.’
Chelsea twisted on the sofa to watch him clean up. ‘What? The university comment? Yeah, right. I don’t need to choke to distract myself from the truth, I’ve already accepted it. I’m not university material.’
‘I don’t know what gave you that idea,’ Tom said, bending to put the bowls in the dishwasher. ‘You’d get decent credit for your diploma and industry experience. It would take you less time than you think.’
‘Um, Tom, you’re probably not aware of this because you’re older than me and weren’t in my year at school, but I’m not exactly a scholar.’
‘So? You’re older now and more mature. You could complete a degree if you wanted to.’
‘No. I don’t think I could. Although it’s nice of you to say so.’
Nice. There was that goddamn word again. It cut through some of his usual calm, which was already fraying at the edges due to his apparently one-sided attraction to his housemate.
‘Chelsea, I’m not being nice. The only thing stopping you is you.’
Chelsea picked at a loose thread on the edge of the sofa. ‘Then maybe I don’t want it that much, that’s all.’
‘Bullshit.’
They fell silent. Way to go, Tom. So much for a “nice” first date. So far he’d managed to nearly drown, almost killed her with dinner, and now he was swearing at her.
But if Tom was anything besides nice, he was honest. To hell with it, he figured.
‘Chelsea,’ he tried again. ‘I think you do want it. Everything you’ve said tonight and before tonight suggests to me that you want more out of your working life. More responsibility. More money. You just told me you don’t want to be doing what you’re doing now when you’re fifty. I just think you’re too scared to go for it.’
Chelsea stood up, looking a little unsteady on her feet. Tom immediately felt bad, but didn’t apologise. Chelsea deserved his honesty. She was the sort of woman who was worthy of success, and Tom genuinely wanted that for her.
‘I’m not scared. I’m just realistic. I’m not as smart as you think I am, Tom.’
Now her gorgeous eyes appeared defeated, and he strode from the kitchen to stand in front of her.
‘Chels? This is because of your family, isn’t it? Your sisters? I know they were always good at school. If they’ve put this idea in your head, it’s only because they were jealous of you.’
‘Jealous? What could they possibly be jealous of me for? They’ve always been smarter and prettier than me.’
Tom’s crush on Chelsea got a little stronger in that moment. She didn’t see it—had never seen it. Which is why she was such an amazing girl.
‘They were jealous because you’re you. You were winning at sport when they were too scared to get on a sports field. You had your father’s attention because of it. You were in a rock band when they were playing clarinet and trumpet in a concert band. Face it, Chels, you were the cool black sheep.’
‘Hardly. I didn’t choose bass to rebel or be cool. I just wanted to play popular music. I’m a terrible singer and bass seemed easiest. See? I’m lazy.’
‘I also bet you didn’t try as hard as you could at school because you figured you could never be as good as your sisters. Am I right?’ Tom knew he’d hit a sore point when she hesitated.
‘Maybe,’ she admitted at last. ‘But come on, it’s been ten years since I’ve been at school and I was average at best then.’
‘Now you’re older—I won’t say more mature, because you don’t seem to like that. But what if you actually tried this time around?’
Chelsea crossed her arms. ‘OK, so let’s say I try. I already have a full-time job. There’s that.’
‘You do the course part-time, and you convince Dragon Lady having a fully qualified teacher on the staff will benefit the business so she gives you time off when you need it. She doesn’t need to know that your long-term goal is to open your own centre.’
‘You’re full of answers for everything, aren’t you?’ She sounded exasperated.
‘And my life-threatening curry was actually an enlightening near-death experience.’
She dropped her hands by her sides and laughed. ‘I don’t know why we’ve never hung out more before now. You’re fun and good for my ego.’
Tom ignored the flicker of hope that zipped down his spine at spending more time with Chelsea. The funny thing was, he’d never realised before now just how much he wanted to spend more time with her. She’d always been cute, bubbly Chelsea who shared his apartment but never gave him a second glance. Any attraction he’d had to her in the past, he’d been able to write off as a pointless crush.
Now? He wasn’t so sure.
As if to make his point, Chelsea stood on tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek, which left his skin tingling and his heart hammering in his chest.
‘That’s for saving my life,’ she said. ‘And for dinner as well as the career advice. Apart from the almost dying part, it was a nice first date.’ She looked up at him with mischievous eyes. ‘I’m also wondering, if this was only day one, I can’t wait to see what you’ve got in store for me tomorrow.’
Chapter Seven
By the time her afternoon break came around the following day, Chelsea was secretly looking forward to checking her phone messages. She’d already warned Tom that she was unlikely to check them until then. For emergencies, everyone in her family and her close friends knew to call the centre’s main phone line. For everything else, they left a message.
To Chelsea’s surprise, the first message she saw was from Darren. She immediately felt a pang of guilt. Ever since the nice guy arrangement, Chelsea had barely thought of Darren, and technically they were still dating. At least, he thought they were.
‘Thanks to my generous loan,’ Chelsea muttered to herself.
She was alone in the break room and no one could hear her talking to herself with the noise of the children playing in the next room.
Chelsea read the message.
Hey, babe. You left in a hurry the other day. I can explain the car. It’s legit, I promise. I’m on track to repay you. How about I make it up to you in the meantime?
> Oh, God. Chelsea hadn’t even considered that the car wasn’t legit. Maybe Darren had shady connections she didn’t know about and he’d somehow gotten mixed up with the wrong people. The sooner he repaid her the money, the better.
Chelsea glanced at the message again, then took a big gulp of Coke. He wanted to make it up to her, huh? His innuendo wasn’t exactly subtle. Darren had been wanting to get into Chelsea’s pants since day one. Not that she’d initially had an issue with it. The guy was hot, fit, and appeared willing to please. Except experience had taught her not to rush in. There had been some heated kissing as well as some touching that bordered on foreplay—experience had also taught Chelsea to insist on foreplay. She’d learned the hard way that sometimes the lead-up to sex was better than the sex itself, disappointing as the reality of that was.
Fortunately in this case, Chelsea hadn’t gone there with Darren yet, and she definitely wouldn’t be now after the way he’d taken advantage of her generosity.
‘He’ll just have to keep it in his pants,’ she said.
Not that she was telling him that. If letting Darren think they were potentially still an item meant having a better chance of getting her money back, then she’d go with it.
She’d just have to avoid mentioning Tom, because how exactly would she explain Tom to Darren?
I’m just hanging out with this super nice, super sweet guy this week and we’re pretending we’re an item. But next week I’m free again.
Chelsea also suspected that Tom wouldn’t look too kindly on her meeting up with Darren while their nice guy arrangement was in play. She suddenly had the odd suspicion that she’d become the other woman. Whose other woman, she couldn’t say.
Chelsea shook off the disturbing thought and typed a short message.
Hey. Sorry, but I’m going to be flat out with work this week. Can we aim for later next week instead? I know you’re good for it. Or at least you’d better be.
There. A bit of treat ‘em mean to keep ‘em keen, plus some innuendo thrown back at him. Was she referring to the money in that last part? Or was she holding out on the promise of sex? Poor guy would never know. And as much as Chelsea wanted to break things off with him sooner rather than later, she’d keep him hanging for now.
With that out of the way, Chelsea opened Tom’s message, which she’d been saving for last like you did with a favourite lolly.
How’s your day going? Michael behaving himself? I was thinking of a movie tonight if you’re keen. We’ll grab some sushi while we’re out. That way we don’t have to risk me killing you with my cooking.
Chelsea smiled to herself. She knew he was joking about his cooking. Or at least she hoped so, because she’d really enjoyed his dinner when she hadn’t been choking on it. She hit reply.
Michael worryingly appears to be storing it up for another day. Movie sounds fun. The action one that’s out at the moment?
She tossed the phone on the sofa cushion beside her, not expecting a reply until later. If childcare was constant, being a paramedic was unrelenting.
The phone vibrated beside her and she picked it up. Tom obviously wasn’t with a patient.
I thought we’d see that rom com one you’ve been talking about with Nadia.
‘No way,’ Chelsea said, then started typing.
Stop being so nice. You’d hate that movie. It’s a girly film.
Chelsea watched the three dots dance as Tom typed his reply.
I’m seeing it with you and you’re a girl. Besides, if I take one for the team now, then next time we’ll watch one I like. It’s called compromise. It’s what nice guys do.
Chelsea smiled, her fingers moving swiftly across the screen’s keyboard to reply that it was a deal.
They sorted out the details, and Chelsea was still smiling by the time she finished her break. She had to admit, it was a refreshing change spending time with a guy who seemed self-aware. Though he really was too nice for his own good sometimes. Chelsea doubted they’d have time to watch another movie that was his pick this week, because something told her Tom had other ideas in store for her. She almost felt sorry for him. Maybe before the week was out, she’d have to try doing something nice for him in return. She’d just have to figure out what.
Tom was running late for the movie. So far today he’d helped a woman in labour get to the hospital just in time to deliver a baby, assisted an elderly woman after a fall, triaged a young boy after a nasty fall at the BMX track had left him unconscious, and reassured an old man with dementia that there was, in fact, nothing wrong with him—except for his dementia.
During all of those things, Tom had remained calm and hadn’t broken a sweat. Now a light sheen of perspiration made his shirt stick to him and he felt unusually frazzled, all because he didn’t want to keep Chelsea waiting. Because that’s not what decent men did.
Chelsea stood up from the lounge she was sitting on when she saw him stride into the foyer. She smiled as he came over, and he planted a quick kiss on her cheek in greeting.
Surely that was OK, right?
He ignored the involuntary zing to his senses that ricocheted around his body like lightning.
They’d never really made a habit of kissing hello and goodbye in the past, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to do given their current situation.
Chelsea didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary until she looked at him more closely.
‘Oh, gosh, you’re all hot. We’re only missing a few trailers. You didn’t have to run.’
You’re all hot. Not “you’re hot”.
Tom dismissed his stupid thoughts and brushed a hand through his hair. ‘I’m fine,’ he lied. ‘But how about we grab some drinks and snacks, seeing as I’ve made us miss dinner?’
‘You haven’t made us miss dinner. We’ll grab something afterwards. And knowing you, it wasn’t your fault. Busy day at work?’
‘Just the usual, really. But yeah, I got held up, sorry.’
Chelsea let him catch his breath as they walked slowly over to the snacks counter. For the next few minutes, they were busy buying tickets and food, and by the time they were seated in their designated seats, Tom felt cooler and calmer.
Chelsea shifted to face him, ignoring the advertisements currently playing on the screen. ‘You don’t like talking about work, do you?’ When he didn’t answer straightaway, she shrugged. ‘Just an observation. Not a request, necessarily.’
‘No. That’s fine,’ he replied, attempting to gather his thoughts. ‘I suppose I’m not used to having anyone to talk about it with, to be honest. We also sort of debrief after a shift or even during a shift on the way to another call-out with the other paramedics.’
Chelsea’s full lips pursed around the straw of her drink as she took a sip, and Tom averted his eyes.
‘It’s cool,’ she replied when she’d swallowed. ‘Like I said, just curious more than anything. I mean, I’m sure you used to talk about it with your ex-girlfriend, and it’s not like I’m a proper girlfriend.’
Tom returned his gaze to her. She was watching the screen absently. It didn’t sound like was being nosy, but had he detected a hint of curiosity in her voice?
‘Actually, we didn’t talk about it much. Gemma had an aversion to anything medical related, and she used to say it made her sad to hear about all the people needing help.’ In reality, Gemma had good reason to want to avoid anything medical related, but Tom wasn’t going into that now.
Chelsea frowned, and her eyes narrowed, but they remained on the screen. ‘OK.’
Tom bit back a grin. ‘I’m sensing there’s more you’re not saying.’
She waved her free hand in the air. ‘No, I can keep my opinions to myself. Far be it for me to speak negatively about any of your ex-girlfriends. I don’t trash-talk people, especially exes. It only reflects poorly on me.’
‘She’s an ex for a reason,’ Tom pointed out, amused at Chelsea’s sweet attempt to be politically correct.
She twisted to fac
e him again, putting her drink in the holder as she did so. ‘Yes, and what reason was that?’ She didn’t attempt to hide her curiosity this time.
‘There were several,’ Tom said vaguely. This was not something he wanted to get into here—or ever, if he could help it—and he hoped the movie would start soon.
Chelsea huffed and put a hand on his arm. ‘You put your life on the line day in and day out and she doesn’t want you to talk about any of it because it’s too sad?’ Chelsea snapped her mouth shut and turned back to the screen, obviously figuring she’d said too much.
Tom gently retracted his arm. Her touch had been a sympathetic gesture, so why did he feel the need to shift uncomfortably his seat?
‘Chels, some people don’t have the stomach for it. It doesn’t make them a terrible person.’ It was true in more ways than he was willing to explain. The last thing Gemma had needed to hear when they were together were details about his job. It hadn’t meant that she was a bad person, even if she’d behaved badly at other times.
Chelsea’s usually invisible frown lines appeared again and her expression became something closer to a pout. ‘Can I ask what she does for work?’
‘Financial planner.’
‘Right.’
‘Right?’
‘Right,’ Chelsea repeated.
‘Why can’t I help but feel that your “right” means something else?’
‘Do you really want to know?’ she asked.
‘I’m curious.’ On more levels than one, but he didn’t say it.
Chelsea sighed. ‘Sounds like she was good with money and maybe not with people. But what would I know?’
Her assessment wasn’t too far off, actually. ‘I believe she’s a good financial planner.’
Chelsea cocked an eyebrow at his vague response and flopped back into her seat while Tom smiled to himself. Gemma had been a lot more serious than Chelsea. Chelsea was fun, chatty, and kind. Way better with people than Gemma had ever been. But why was Tom comparing his ex to Chelsea? His smile faded. He really needed to stop having romantic thoughts about Chelsea.
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