Venice Actually : a steamy roommates-to-lovers, fake dating holiday novella (Holidays in LA Book 2) by Kelly Reynolds

Author:Kelly Reynolds [Reynolds, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

Killian

I was fourteen the first time I got high.

Bowie and I smoked a joint behind the local market, ate our weight in crisps, and then ran back to his house where we confessed every last detail to his mums. The whole experience had soured my taste for experimenting with marijuana, at least for a few years.

By the time I reached uni, football had become my main priority, a way out of my small town and even smaller community. I wasn’t going to let anything interfere with my future, and that included alcohol, drugs, and sex, though I admit, I was more liberal with the latter.

Fast forward to now, me sitting on the floor of my bedroom, head between my fake fiancée’s thighs, stoned out of my mind, nibbling on my fourth (or maybe fifth) PMS bar while she braided my hair. This was a high I hoped I’d never come down from.

“You can’t be serious,” Leighton said from behind me, laughter mingling with her words.

“I am.”

“Murder, She Wrote.”

“Yes.”

“That’s your favorite show?”

“Absolutely.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d gotten this reaction. But how was I to blame for the world’s poor taste in television programs?

“She’s got a quality selection of sweaters and vests; I’ll give you that. But what makes you a Murder, She Wrote stan?”

“I love a good mystery.”

“Sweater vests and mysteries?” She playfully tugged on my hair, unlocking a new kink. “That’s it?”

I chuckled. “No, there’s more. I met Angela Lansbury when I was a kid.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “It’s one of the first memories I have, actually. I was nine, I think. Mum was working in this flower shop and the owner’s daughter was cast in a musical in the West End. She was so chuffed, she gave all her employees tickets for Christmas that year. Mum and I took the bus into London for the matinee. Four hours each way. And when we went to meet the boss’s daughter after the show, she introduced us to the star herself, Ms. Angela Lansbury. I’ve been a diehard stan, as you say, ever since.”

Leighton’s giggles echoed throughout the room. I felt one final hair pull, followed by the sound of something snapping into place, before she announced, “There. What do you think?”

I held up the hot-pink hand mirror she’d given me. Two intricately woven braids now decorated my head, one on either side, a perfect match. “Stunning.”

“She sounds great.”

“We only spoke for about ten seconds, but—”

“No.” She paused. The tone of her voice shifted to something much more somber. “Your mom.”

My eyes met hers in the mirror. “She was,” I said softly.

“Four hours on a bus. Each way.” She sighed. “Not every mother would do that for their child.”

“I was lucky to have her.”

She held my gaze. “And she was lucky to have you, too.”

We were crossing into unexplored territory. I could feel it happening, another seismic shift in our relationship. We’d experienced several of them, of varying stages, ever since the day she’d moved in. And somehow, a part of me knew this one would be different.

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