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Back Just for December Save as PDF
Chapters (54)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR LAURA JANE WILLIAMS
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. Acknowledgements
  50. Publishing Credits
  51. Keep Reading …
  52. About the Author
  53. Fiction by the same author
  54. About the Publisher

Markus laughs. ‘I do my best,’ he says, and he doesn’t look away. Evie suddenly feels like a third wheel, like she’s intruding on something private. She waits for them to stop mooning, but that moment never comes. They’re just stood, smiling, not saying anything, not even the smallest bit shy that they’re each undressing the other with their sexy eyeballing. How do people do that? Just decide they’re hot for somebody and then make it so clearly known? The confidence of it! It chills Evie to the bone. She’d no sooner put herself out there with such abandon than she’d shave her head and ask people to start greeting her with the name Moonshine.

‘Oooookay then,’ Evie says, not even sure if they can hear her. ‘I was actually just about to take a walk to stretch my legs, if you don’t mind.’

‘I don’t mind.’ Magda grins, looking at Markus.

‘Enjoy.’ Markus smiles, looking at Magda.

Evie doesn’t bother saying goodbye – she’s sure neither of them would hear her over their respective boners anyway.

She meanders down some corridors and out into the cold air. It feels fresh, and it’s still the last of the afternoon light, so the sun keeps her warm enough. She does a circuit of the parking lot and then finds a bench to flop down on, pulling her phone from her pocket. She pulls up her emails, but there isn’t anything beyond a few pre-Christmas sales emails from her favourite brands, and then, inexplicably, she pulls up a web browser and googles her father’s name.

What am I doing? she vaguely asks herself, and she hits the return key. She changes tack, and instead googles herself. Image after image comes up from her various fauxmance dates with Duke. She can see the progression: the pained faces from the coffee shop, the coyness from the fairground, the pictures from the alleyway the other night – a passion that could never be faked. Nothing from today, of course, for her ensnaring of Katerina, because of Clive’s fall.

He was okay, after his fall. Duke saved the day. Evie half wonders if she’s come outside to see when Duke gets back to the hotel, so she can catch him. She waits. He doesn’t come.

She is disappointed, yet again.

Men leave.

Don’t trust anybody.

She could never be enough, anyway.

This isn’t real.

34

Duke