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The pub was loud in the comfortable way only Friday nights could be.
Music hummed beneath conversations, glasses clinked every few seconds, and somewhere near the dartboards a group had already become aggressively invested in karaoke far too early in the evening.
Eloise regretted coming almost immediately.
Not because she disliked pubs.
Not because she disliked Penelope.
Definitely because she disliked Colin’s face.
More specifically, the deeply suspicious expression currently sitting on it.
“You’re smiling too much,” she informed her brother while shrugging off her coat.
“I’m a naturally joyful person.” Colin looked offended.
“You’re a menace.”
“Also true.” Penelope hid a laugh behind her glass.
Traitor!
Eloise narrowed her eyes at both of them before sliding into the booth across from her best friend.
“Why exactly did this become a mandatory couples outing?”
“It’s not a couples outing,” Penelope said innocently.
Eloise reached for the menu just as Colin suddenly straightened in his seat, eyes lifting toward the entrance.
That was absolutely the face of a man about to become unbearable. And then someone approached the table.
Tall, dark jacket, slightly windswept hair from the rain outside. Annoyingly handsome.
Eloise immediately resented that observation.
“Sorry I’m late,” the man said, voice warm and calm as he slid across from Colin. “One of my trainees stopped me on my way out.”
“There he is!” Colin clapped him on the shoulder. “Eloise, Pen, this is Phillip.”
Phillip glanced toward them, polite and composed and then his eyes landed on Eloise, with a strange split-second feeling of recognition without reason, like walking back into a room and remembering you’d forgotten something there.
It lasted exactly one heartbeat, until he smiled. And, irritatingly, it was a very nice smile.
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
Eloise recovered first.
“You’re a doctor?”
“I am.”
“That explains why Colin likes you. He has an ongoing need for medical supervision.”
Phillip huffed out a laugh before he could stop himself.
His laugh was unfairly attractive too.
“See?” Colin said immediately, pointing between them like an overexcited golden retriever. “You’re already getting along.”
“We spoke one sentence to each other,” Eloise replied.
“And yet there was banter.”
“There was basic human interaction.”
Penelope sipped her drink with the expression of a woman watching her favorite television show unfold live.
Phillip, to his credit, looked mildly horrified to realize what was happening.
“You didn’t tell me this was a setup,” he muttered to Colin.
“You said you wanted to meet new people.”
“I meant professionally.”
“And Eloise is very professional.”
“I heard that,” Eloise said.
“I wanted you to,” Colin answered cheerfully.
God, she was going to kill him.
The waiter arrived before she could threaten bodily harm, and for several blissful minutes conversation shifted toward drinks and food.
“You look like someone who judges people for cocktail choices,” Eloise said.
“I don’t.” His brows lifted.
“You absolutely do.”
“I’m literally drinking beer.”
“Yes, in the way a man drinks beer while silently believing everyone else lacks discipline.”
Penelope choked on her drink and Colin looked ready to fall out of the booth laughing.
Phillip stared at Eloise for a second and then smiled into his glass.
“You profile strangers often?” he asked.
“Constantly.”
“That’s a little unsettling.”
“I’m a barrister. It’s basically a survival instinct.”
“Ah,” he said. “So this is professional misconduct.”
Phillip rubbed a hand over his mouth, very clearly trying not to laugh again. He seemed completely unbothered by Colin’s nonsense, which honestly suggested alarming levels of patience.
Every time she spoke, he looked directly at her like he actually wanted to hear what she was going to say next.
By the time their food arrived, Eloise had become deeply aware of two things:
Phillip Crane had a devastatingly quiet sense of humor and she found him somewhat funny.
Not loudly funny, like Colin, or deliberately funny, like Benedict. He possessed the far more dangerous kind of humor, dry, quiet, and timed with surgical precision.
Which meant she kept laughing before she could stop herself.
“You teach botany?” she asked, leaning back against the booth.
“At King’s College.” Phillip nodded once. “Researching plant-derived pharmaceuticals, mostly. But I teach the core botany modules too.”
“And you voluntarily chose plants?”
“I like plants.”
“That’s definitely a choice.”
“Why?”
“They don’t talk.”
“That’s one of their better qualities.”
Eloise stared at him, while Phillip took another sip of his beer with complete calm.
Across the table, Penelope made a strangled sound into her drink.
“Oh, this is bad,” she whispered.
“This is incredible.” Colin looked delighted.
“I hate both of you,” Eloise informed them.
“No, you don’t,” Penelope said sweetly.
Unfortunately, she sounded unbearably happy these days. It was honestly disgusting, but Eloise loved it.
There had been a time, not even that long ago, when Penelope smiled carefully, like she expected happiness to be temporary. Like joy was something she had to apologize for taking up space with.
Now she glowed. Actually glowed.
Especially whenever Colin looked at her (which was constantly!).
At that exact moment, Colin reached over absentmindedly to fix one of Penelope’s curls where it had caught in her necklace chain.
Neither of them interrupted their conversation while doing it, like it was instinct, touching each other had become second nature.
“Oh, absolutely not.” Eloise immediately recoiled.
“What?” Penelope blinked.
“That.” Eloise pointed accusingly between them. “Whatever unsettling little telepathic newly-in-love behavior that was.”
“You mean affection?” Colin grinned.
“I mean public indecency.”
Phillip snorted into his drink.
“It gets worse,” Eloise told him darkly. “Last week I watched him cross an entire room because Penelope looked cold.”
“I was cold,” Penelope defended.
“You were indoors.”
“There was a draft!”
“There was not.”
“There absolutely was,” Colin said, scandalized on Penelope’s behalf, putting both his arms around her and pulling her even closer to him, placing a little kiss on her shoulder.
Phillip was openly laughing now, shoulders shaking slightly. Eloise hated that she immediately noticed how nice his laugh sounded.
“See?” she said, gesturing at the couple. “This is what artists are like when they fall in love. They become unbearable.”
“Excuse us.” Penelope gasped.
“You wrote poetry about my stupid brother.”
“It was private!”
“It was excellent poetry.” Colin looked smug.
“You write poetry too?” Phillip tilted his head slightly.
“I've dabbled in poetry, but primarily I'm a novelist.” Penelope brightened immediately.
“And a very good one,” Colin added at once.
The fondness in his voice was almost enough to make Eloise forgive him for tonight’s obvious setup.
A waiter appeared beside the table carrying another round they definitely had not ordered.
“Oh. We didn’t…” Colin blinked.
“I did,” Phillip said, already reaching for his wallet.
“You absolutely don’t have to do that.” Eloise looked at him immediately.
“It’s a drink, not a mortgage.”
“That’s exactly how men financially manipulate women into emotional dependence.” Phillip considered this seriously for a moment.
“So your legal expertise suggests I cancel the chips too?”
Eloise barked out a laugh so suddenly she nearly startled herself, he looked briefly pleased by it.
Across the booth, Colin looked one second away from throwing rice at them like they were already married.
Penelope kicked him under the table before he could say whatever insane thing had just entered his mind.
“Ow, babe.” He looked wounded.
“You’re being obvious.”
“I’m being supportive.”
“You’re being emotionally invasive.”
“Thank you. Finally, someone understands.” Phillip raised his glass slightly toward Penelope.
“Don’t encourage her. She’s his accomplice.” Eloise pointed at him immediately.
“I prefer the term partner in crime.” Colin sounded smug.
“Well, you don't have the right to call her that, because Pen has been my partner in crime since we were twelve years old!”
“And since then you've had possession of the term? Specifically with my girlfriend?”
"She's my best friend first!" Eloise shrugged, as if they were both still children.
"I met her first!" Colin retorted, and Phillip saw Penelope roll her eyes, as if this wasn't the first time the two siblings had had this argument.
“That doesn't matter at all, because you didn't claim her at that time.”
“I am no prize to be claimed, if you can, please put aside your sibling squabbles for one night.” Penelope sighed sadly, and Colin settled more comfortably beside her, displeased that he had upset her.
"I believe this spectacle happens frequently between them?" Phillip asked, amused, and Penelope simply nodded.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eloise asked, offended.
“You argue like someone who professionally dismantles people.”
“That,” Colin interrupted, pointing dramatically at Phillip, “is exactly what I said.”
“You discuss me?” Eloise narrowed her eyes.
“Oh, frequently,” Colin replied.
Phillip visibly regretted knowing him.
“As fascinating as this interrogation is,” Phillip said carefully, “I should clarify most conversations are just Colin talking.”
“Rude.”
“That sounds accurate between you and Phillip, babe,” Penelope said.
Colin had draped himself halfway across the booth toward Penelope like human personal space no longer applied to them.
Now Penelope was absentmindedly tracing shapes against his wrist while Colin talked about something with exaggerated passion, and Eloise genuinely considered throwing chips at both of them.
“You’re doing it again,” she informed the couple.
“Doing what?” Penelope looked up innocently.
“Existing romantically in public.”
“You wound me.” Colin gasped softly.
“I’m trying to.”
Phillip’s shoulder brushed hers briefly when he laughed. Eloise became abruptly aware that she had not moved away.
His gaze flicked toward her for half a second longer than necessary before he looked back at her brother.
Across the table, Penelope checked her phone before exchanging a look with Colin, one of those disgusting couple looks where entire conversations apparently occurred in silence.
“No.” Eloise immediately pointed at them.
“We didn’t say anything,” Colin replied.
“You communicated psychically.”
“We actually should probably head out soon.” Penelope bit back a smile.
“Why?” Eloise narrowed her eyes.
“Some of us are tired.” Colin sighed dramatically.
Both Eloise and Phillip spoke at once.
“You’re lying.”
“You’re lying.”
They turned toward each other immediately.
“Oh, they’re synchronized now,” Colin whispered and Penelope nodded vehemently, as if she were moved.
Eloise hated them so much.
“You’ve been attached to each other for six consecutive hours,” she said flatly. “You are not tired.”
“We’re in love,” Colin answered, like that explained everything.
“It explains too much,” Phillip muttered into his drink.
Penelope pressed a quick kiss to Colin’s cheek, completely unembarrassed by it.
“I miss the version of both of you that felt shame,” Eloise informed the couple.
“We’re happier now,” Penelope said, with a soft certainty Eloise still wasn’t used to hearing in her best friend’s voice.
It quieted her for half a second, long enough for Colin to stand and grab his coat.
“Well,” he announced with the deeply suspicious energy of a man abandoning a mission after successfully setting explosives, “this has been fun.”
“You are unbelievably transparent,” Eloise told him.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“Try not to bully him too much.” Penelope squeezed Eloise’s shoulder as she stood.
“Interesting that you assumed I’m the victim here.” Phillip blinked.
“Oh, you definitely are,” Penelope replied.
“Excuse me,” Eloise said.
They disappeared out into the rainy street looking revoltingly happy together beneath one umbrella.
Eloise watched through the window as Colin kissed Penelope’s forehead while she laughed at something he said.
Disgusting.
Adorable.
Disgustingly adorable.
The pub had gotten louder around them, warmer too, but somehow the space inside the booth suddenly felt smaller now that it was just the two of them.
Eloise became intensely conscious of his knee brushing hers beneath the table. Neither of them moved.
“So,” she said, because silence suddenly felt charged in a way she did not know how to handle, “did you survive the horrifying matchmaking experience?”
“Barely.”
“Traumatic?”
“Life-altering.” She laughed softly, shaking her head.
The noise of the pub faded strangely around her.
“You know,” he said after a moment, voice quieter now, “for what it’s worth… I’m glad I came.”
“Careful, Crane. That almost sounded sincere.”
“It was. Don’t spread it around.” She smiled despite herself.
Phillip glanced toward the nearly empty glasses on the table before looking back at her.
“There is another option,” he said carefully.
“What was the first option?” Eloise narrowed her eyes immediately.
“I was going to say coffee.”
“At this hour?”
“I’m a university professor. My sleep schedule died years ago.”
“That’s fair.”
“Sleeping also sounds good, if you’re interested.” Eloise nearly choked on absolutely nothing, but he looked entirely too composed for a man who had just said that.
“You are significantly smoother than I was prepared for,” she informed him.
“That’s unfortunate for you.”
She should say no. Probably.
“Are all botanists like this,” she asked, “or are you personally committed to ruining my judgment tonight?”
He stepped into her personal space, his eyes searching hers with a directness that made the lights feel a lot dimmer
“I'm really good at multitasking.”
The rain had softened by the time they left the pub. Not stopped entirely, just enough to leave the city glowing beneath streetlights and reflections, the pavement shining gold beneath passing cars.
Eloise walked beside Phillip with her hands shoved into her coat pockets, acutely aware of him at every second.
His shoulder near hers, the warmth of him whenever they stopped at crosswalks. It should have felt awkward, but it didn’t.
“You know,” Eloise said as they crossed the street, “this is exactly how people end up in murder documentaries.”
“Going home with a botanist blind date?” Phillip glanced at her.
“You could have rare poisonous plants.”
“I do have rare plants.”
“You are not improving your situation..” She stopped walking for half a second.
His laugh warmed the cold night air between them.
His flat itself surprised her. It had cozy lighting, a bookshelf full of books, and plants everywhere, yet it still felt incredibly welcoming.
“Jesus Christ,” she murmured as she stepped inside. “You really committed to the aesthetic.”
“Are you saying you don't like it?” Phillip closed the door behind them, smiling faintly.
“There are at least twelve plants in this room alone.”
“Fourteen.”
“Psychotic.”
“You still came upstairs.”
She was about to reply with some clever remark when she realized how close he was, his scent embracing her, and in that moment, her mind went blank, focusing only on how much she wanted the distance between them to decrease further.
“You can still insult my decorating choices,” Phillip said softly.
“I’m thinking about it.” Eloise swallowed.
“But?”
“But you are distracting me.” Something shifted in his expression and he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist without hesitation, she enveloped him in her embrace around his shoulders.
He kissed her like a thunderstorm finally breaking open after hours of pressure in the air.
Eloise made a soft sound against his mouth before she could stop herself, fingers catching instinctively in the front of his oversized shirts as he kissed her deeper.
Everything about it felt intensely aware.
Eloise had always lived so much inside her own head, but Phillip somehow pulled her out of all of it, with the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips, the scrape of his stubble against her jaw, the way his hands held her like he already understood she hated feeling handled but loved feeling chosen.
It startled her a little how easy it was to melt into him.
Phillip kissed her again, slower this time, and she felt it everywhere, like he’d found the exact frequency her body responded to.
“Still think I’m suspicious?” he murmured softly against her mouth.
“Extremely.” Eloise laughed breathlessly despite herself.
“Good.”
His thumb brushed lightly along her side beneath her coat and she shivered immediately, the look he gave her after that nearly unraveled her on the spot.
And somehow that made her feel bolder instead of nervous.
She kissed him again before he could speak, pushing him back a step toward the kitchen counter. Phillip let out a low surprised laugh that dissolved into another kiss, his hands finding her waist again.
The flat around them blurred. The rain outside. The city noise below. Everything.
There was only this impossible magnetic pull between them now. This terrifying, exhilarating sense that her body already trusted him before her brain had fully caught up.
He lifted her in his arms, without any warning, without any hesitation, and walked with her towards his room, guiding them to the bed and laying her down so gently on her mattress that the world outside could explode and Eloise wouldn't even notice.
She simply pulled him back to her, pressing their lips together with a hunger she had never felt before, wanting to mark him as hers before he could change his mind, but Phillip went willingly, as if there was nothing he wanted more than to be entirely hers that night.
Morning arrived slowly.
Soft light filtered through the curtains in pale gold streaks, the rain from the night before reduced to a faint drizzle against the windows.
For a few sleepy seconds, Eloise didn’t remember where she was.
Then she became aware of warmth, a solid chest against her back, an arm draped loosely around her waist and the steady rhythm of someone breathing beside her.
And unfortunately for her ability to remain emotionally detached about any of this, memories of the previous night came back all at once.
His mouth on hers. His hands on her skin. The devastating patience with which he’d kissed her until she forgot how to think properly.
Honestly…
Sleeping with the best friend of the brother who had technically stolen her best friend felt entirely justified. Karmic balance, really.
The fact Phillip had also been distractingly attractive while doing it was simply a bonus.
Eloise smiled faintly against the pillow before she could stop herself.
Especially because she almost never woke up comfortable beside other people. But here… She felt warm.
Before she could spiral too far into it, she felt movement behind her, his warm lips brushed slowly against her bare shoulder, making her inhale sharply.
Another kiss followed, softer this time, just beneath her neck.
“Well,” she murmured, voice rough with sleep, “this is manipulative.”
Phillip laughed quietly against her skin, the sound vibrated warm through her.
“Good morning to you too.”
His arm tightened slightly around her waist before he kissed her shoulder again, unhurried and absentminded, like he’d already grown used to touching her.
Eloise turned her head enough to look back at him. Morning somehow made him even more attractive.
His hair was messy from sleep, his glasses sat crookedly on the bedside table and he looked relaxed in a way she suspected very few people ever got to see.
“You look smug,” she informed him.
“I just woke up with you in my arms, I guess I've earned the right to be a little smug..”
“I was evaluating my decisions.”
“And?” Eloise pretended to think about it.
“Still undecided.”
Phillip smiled slowly at that, eyes still sleepy, his gaze drifted down her shoulder again. The look in his face made heat curl low in her stomach immediately.
“You’re very distracting in the morning,” he murmured.
“You say that like it’s my fault.”
“I think it might be.”
Before she could answer, Phillip pressed one last kiss beneath her jaw and reluctantly pulled himself out of bed.
Eloise watched him walk toward the bathroom for half a second before aggressively dragging the blanket over her face.
It would have been easier if the chemistry between them had only been physical, but Phillip was thoughtful, funny and gentle without being patronizing.
And worst of all…
Eloise genuinely liked him.
About twenty minutes later, she wandered into the kitchen wearing one of his shirts and trying very hard not to notice how naturally she already fit into the flat.
“Phillip.”
He glanced over from the stove, looking even better standing in his kitchen making breakfast.
“There’s actual food happening here?” she said suspiciously.
“There usually is at breakfast time.”
“How many people will be eating with us?”
“I got carried away.”
The kitchen counter was absurdly full: fruit, toast, eggs, coffee, pancakes…
“That’s an alarming level of effort for a one night stand.”
He leaned back lightly against the counter, looking entirely unashamed of himself. Eloise crossed her arms, trying not to look too affected by any of this.
Penelope should have known something was wrong the moment Eloise voluntarily showed up at her flat carrying coffee.
“Who are you,” Penelope asked slowly as Eloise walked into the kitchen, “and what have you done with my best friend?”
Eloise ignored her completely, dropping into one of the stools by the counter with all the dramatic exhaustion of a woman burdened by unbearable circumstances.
Penelope took one look at her face and immediately lit up.
“Oh my God.”
“No.”
“You slept with him!”
"You’re being extremely loud for someone who lives in a block of flats.” Eloise pointed accusingly at her.
“You slept with him!” Penelope repeated, now delighted.
“That is not the issue.”
“The fact you called it an issue means it absolutely is.”
Eloise groaned into her coffee cup.
“Well?” she demanded.
“It happened.”
“That’s not enough information.”
“What exactly are you asking me for here, Penelope? A witness statement?”
“I’m asking if it was good?”
Eloise stared at her for a long moment.
“Oh, it was extremely good.”
Penelope slapped a hand over her mouth in delight.
“Shut UP.”
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You were about to.”
Eloise took another sip of coffee, trying and failing to look unaffected.
Which was impossible considering the problem was not merely that sleeping with Phillip had been good.
The problem was that everything after had been good too.
The conversation afterward breakfast, his stupid plants. God, even his texting style was attractive.
It had been nearly three weeks since the pub. And somehow she kept seeing him. Not intentionally!
There was a coffee shop near her office, a secluded bookstore. At the faculty fundraising event neither of them realized the other would attend.
“He asked me to dinner,” Eloise admitted carefully.
“And?” Penelope went completely still.
Eloise stared very hard at her coffee.
“And I went.”
Penelope made a sound like a Regency woman witnessing a scandalous ankle.
“And then,” Eloise continued before she could stop herself, “we may have slept together again.”
“Oh, you’re done for.” Penelope very calmly set down her mug.
“I am not done for anything.”
“You’re having recurring dates.”
“We are not dating.”
“You had dinner.”
“People eat dinner all the time.”
“You slept together twice.”
“That’s not legally binding.”
Penelope looked moments away from climbing onto the counter and shaking her by the shoulders.
“Eloise.”
“What?”
“You like him.”
She frowned into the middle distance like the answer might appear there.
She liked the way Phillip listened when she spoke, how calm she felt around him, how he never made her feel too much.
And she especially liked the devastating combination of intelligence, dry humor, and broad shoulders.
But liking someone and believing in destiny were entirely different things.
Penelope leaned against the counter watching her carefully now, softer than before.
“You know,” she said, “sometimes things are meant to happen even if people help them along a little.”
Eloise snorted.
“That sounds like something written on a throw pillow.”
“I’m serious.”
“And I’m serious too.” Eloise sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Colin introduced us on purpose. Very aggressively on purpose.”
“Yes.”
“If destiny wanted us together, don’t you think it would’ve happened naturally instead of through my idiot brother engineering a pub encounter like some deranged Regency mother?”
Penelope burst out laughing.
“He really did orchestrate the whole thing, didn’t he?”
“He practically released us into the same environment and waited for sparks.”
“Which did happen?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“Eloise,” she said gently, “you’ve run into him what, four times since then?”
“Five,” Eloise muttered.
Penelope’s entire face transformed with vindication.
“Five times.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“You literally went to a random bookstore and found him in the same aisle.”
“Whose side are you on?” Eloise narrowed her eyes immediately.
“Yours.” Penelope looked scandalized.
“That sounded fake.”
Penelope softened after a moment, smiling into her tea.
“I just…” she began quietly. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”
Eloise’s stomach tightened slightly.
“Like what?”
“Swayed by another person,” Penelope said simply.
Eloise looked down at her coffee cup.
“He’s just…” she exhaled sharply. “He makes everything feel very simple.”
Penelope’s expression turned impossibly soft.
“That’s usually a sign.”
“Oh God, you sound like Colin now.”
“Thank you.”
“That was not a compliment.”
Penelope grinned anyway.
A tiny part of Eloise wondered if maybe the universe had been laughing at her for weeks already.
It happened again at IKEA. Eloise was standing in the lighting section holding two nearly identical lamps and silently debating whether capitalism had invented too many shades of beige when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“You look like you’re losing a war.”
Phillip was standing beside a display kitchen holding a fern.
Eloise looked around the enormous store in disbelief.
“No.”
“That’s becoming your standard greeting.” Phillip’s mouth twitched immediately.
“Why are you here?”
“I needed shelves.”
“For books or plants?” Eloise narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“Yes.”
She hated how quickly she laughed now around him. Phillip glanced at the lamps in her hands.
“You’ve been standing here for three full minutes looking personally betrayed by modern lighting.”
“They all look exactly the same.”
“And yet you’re still comparing them.”
“I’m trying to determine which one has less emotional hostility.”
“Important criteria.” Phillip nodded seriously.
Around them, couples wandered through fake living rooms arguing quietly about furniture dimensions while Eloise tried not to think too hard about how absurdly domestic this looked.
“You know,” Phillip said after a moment, “I think we’ve officially reached the point where coincidence sounds fake.”
“We passed that point at the bookstore.” Eloise snorted softly.
“The bookstore was defensible.”
“How?”
“We both read.”
“That is the weakest argument I’ve ever heard.” Phillip smiled.
Suddenly his expression shifted into something more cautious.
“Can I ask you something?”
"You know I usually charge to answer questions like that?" he chuckled, ignoring her.
“Did you tell Colin we’ve… continued seeing each other?”
Eloise winced instantly.
“I told Penelope.”
“That makes more sense.”
“In my defense, I didn’t realize she’d immediately report to my brother like a Regency spy.”
Phillip sighed.
“Well, now you know where her loyalty lies.”
“What happened?”
“I had drinks with him yesterday.”
Eloise made a sympathetic face immediately.
“I’m so sorry.”
“He spent an hour talking about fate.” She burst out laughing.
“They’re absolutely ridiculous.”
“At one point,” he continued with the exhausted patience of a man recalling wartime trauma, “he physically grabbed my shoulder and said, ‘some people are simply meant to find each other.’”
“Oh my God.”
“And then he started quoting Taylor Swift lyrics.” Eloise nearly dropped the lamp.
“That’s actually horrifying.”
“It gets worse.”
“How?”
Phillip looked at her steadily now, clearly reliving the experience.
“He asked me,” he said carefully, “If I didn't think we should give it a real chance, since our chemistry was instant?’”
The noisy chaos of IKEA suddenly felt strangely far away.
Eloise shook her head immediately, trying to recover first.
“That is the most offensively romantic thing Colin has ever said.”
“Do you disagree?” Phillip smiled faintly.
“That fate brought us together? I wonder if they've both completely lost their minds. If it was my destiny to meet you, why did we end up meeting like this?”
“No, you disagree with the part about giving this a real chance?”
Eloise looked down at the lamp in her hands before glancing back up at him.
“Are you really asking me about getting into a relationship with you in the middle of IKEA?”
“I think I should have asked you that when we had dinner together, or when we slept together afterwards, or the first time…”
“Shhhh… Someone might hear you!”
“Do you want to come to my place so we can talk more?” He asked, and just from his tone of voice, Eloise felt a shiver run down her spine.
“Are we really going to ‘talk’ this time?” Phillip smiled mischievously.
“Third time is the charm,” he winked and she rolled her eyes.
He stepped closer then, just enough for Eloise to catch the familiar warmth of his cologne beneath the smell of cedar shelves and whatever strange cinnamon candle display was nearby. It was unfair how quickly her body recognized him now.
“How long are you planning on pretending this is casual?” he asked quietly.
Eloise’s breath caught slightly.
“Phillip…”
“I’m serious.”
“You make this very difficult,” she finally admitted.
A slow smile appeared on his face, making she sighed dramatically.
“I suppose one date wouldn’t kill me.”
Phillip blinked once.
“One date?”
“A real one,” she clarified quickly. “Without my brother engineering the environment like a deranged social experiment.”
His smile widened immediately.
“Right. Of course.”
“And if this ends terribly,” she warned, pointing the lamp at him threateningly, “I’ll blame you specifically.”
“That feels fair.”
“And if Colin says ‘I told you so,’ I may actually commit a crime.”
“I’ll testify in your defense.”
Eloise shook her head like she could physically escape the feeling.
“Fine,” she muttered. “We will talk about it at dinner tonight.”
Phillip’s expression turned unbearably pleased.
"Do you want me to bring flowers?" he asked, and for the first time, Eloise wasn't sure if he was serious or joking.
“Surprise me!”