Attraction - a fraudulent marriage

7. proposal

"What? That you're using it? You need to queen up, love. You can't live like this."

He rolled his eyes. "Live like what?"

I couldn't take it anymore. I laughed and patted his shoulder. "I love you, man." I waved with the dryer. "I need to make this happen, but then I'll help you clean."

Chris left the bathroom, shaking his head but still smiling. He was an awesome guy, quite definitely a better friend than I deserved. Between him and Adam, my months in the US had been nothing less than perfect. Next to them, my old friends in Stockholm didn't amount to much. Those guys had smiled, but they had never been truly happy for me.

An hour later, we were just about done when Dante's phone rang. I thought he would have some kind of classical music as a ringtone, but no, he had a song by an Icelandic band I couldn't remember the name of.

Dante answered and strolled into their bedroom, not allowing me to catch more than the first few lines of pleasantries.

Chris poured himself a glass of water and studied the ice swimming around in slow circles. "Have you thought about what you want to do?" His gaze flickered to mine, almost stating the question all over again.

"No, I don't know. I'll try to save what I can these last days and hope that I can find a reasonably priced ticket to get home."

"Money isn't really a problem if you're in trouble. We'll help you out."

I shifted in my seat. "Thanks, that's very generous, but no. I'll be fine." I had a thing with money. I hated being indebted because I knew it was unlikely that I'd be quick to pay them back. Money walked away from me on their own somehow.

Dante returned, helping us move the sofa back to its original position. "Tom and Lara are on their way up." He studied me closely as if he waited for me to react. It was a close call.

Tom. That name should mean nothing to me, but unfortunately, I hadn't been able to banish him from my thoughts. Something about Tom rubbed me the right way—like a pleasant itch I had to scratch to make it all better. Or maybe it was more like a painful rash, but that sounded too unattractive.

Chris dusted off one of their cushions. "Great, we need to speak with Lara, anyway."

"To ask about Joachim?" Dante asked.

"Yeah. I hope she has some good ideas."

Dante's lips twitched into a smug grin. "I doubt her ideas will be better than mine."

I dug my fingernails into my palms. If he said that idea out loud one more time, I might combust.

"What idea?" Chris didn't seem to know who to look at, twisting his head from left to right and then back again. "What's going on?"

The doorbell rang right on cue. Tied up in knots, I ignored the others and walked over to one of the big windows. Dante couldn't be serious. If he believed that Tom and I would ever agree to marry, then something was seriously wrong. Maybe he thought he was the mortal manifestation of Cupid, or that people married out of the blue with no prior knowledge of each other. Okay, so maybe arranged marriages was still a thing in certain parts of the world, but definitely not common in Sweden.

Lara swept into the apartment. "Where is he?" She trained her eyes on me and waved her finger. "Boy, you are in trouble. Worrying me like this."

Locked in her embrace, I didn't know how I was supposed to react. Could I cry on her shoulder? No, not really. Could I moan and bitch about what a total idiot I'd been? Maybe.

My gaze flitted over to Tom. He gave me a brief nod, forging a connection of something I wasn't sure how to interpret. I closed my eyes and focused on Lara instead. I couldn't deal with him now.