Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Liam

" I 'm just saying, I've seen much worse-looking men than you that don't even have a personality, and they manage to get dates. Your cousin Tommy has a face like a slapped arse, and he's engaged to that lovely Chelsea!"

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose and quietly despaired as his mother warmed up to her subject. Liam truly did love his mum, but she was obsessed with finding him a partner, and his regular Sunday night phone calls home had become something he dreaded. "It's not that I can't find someone, Mum," he tried. "It's just that with uni and everything?—"

"Sure, and your sister managed to finish a degree and find a husband, so there's no reason you can't do the same, surely?" The implication was clear—Liam was single because he just wasn't trying .

"I don't want to date just anybody for the sake of it, though, Mum. I want to actually like them."

"Well, how will you know if you like them if you don't go out with them? It's you and Vegemite all over again." There was a note of delighted victory in her voice, and Liam suppressed a groan, knowing exactly what was coming next. It was his mother's secret weapon—the fucking sandwich story. Liam could recite it by heart. Everyone in his family could by now. "For years, you were ‘Oh no, I don't like Vegemite,' and we all believed you. Well, why wouldn't we? From the time you were five years old till you were fifteen, for ten long years, it was ‘ no Vegemite for Liam!' But what happened when Uncle Phil accidentally gave you a cheese and Vegemite sandwich that one day at lunch? Remind me, love?"

Liam was tempted not to play, to leave his mum and her punchline dangling in the wind, but once Mum was on a roll, there was no stopping her, so the best thing to do was get it over with, like ripping off a Band-Aid. "I liked it," he said quietly.

"You liked it!" she crowed triumphantly, like she'd proved a point. Perhaps in her own mind she had. "It turned out you'd never even tried it!"

Liam did let out a groan then. "What does Vegemite have to do with dating, Mum?'

"Well, there might be a lovely boy out there for you that's just like Vegemite," she said, as if it were obvious.

Liam couldn't help himself. "Looks weird, smells funny and sticks to your fingers?"

"Don't be crass, Liam," his mother tutted. "I just mean there might be someone you might not think is your kind of person at all, until you get to know them."

Liam flopped back on his bed, clutching his phone and staring at the paint on his bedroom ceiling as if it might somehow save him from his mum's interrogation. "Mum, come on. Why does every conversation we have end up talking about my love life?"

Or his lack thereof, which Fiona Connelly took as some sort of personal failure if her many phone calls on the subject were any indication .

The sniff of disapproval was loud in his ear. "It's been ages since you had a date , Liam. Years . Not since that lovely Jonah"—Liam winced at the reminder of his cheating arsehole ex—"and well, we worry about you, your dad and I. We don't want you ending up old and alone."

"I'm twenty-three, Mum. I'm hardly old." Liam closed his eyes and wondered, if he made enough weird hissing noises, whether he could pretend he was losing reception.

"Well, still. You can't leave these things," his mother said darkly. What the hell did that even mean? Liam could tell she wasn't going to let it go, and her next words confirmed it. "You know, my friend Mary has a son who lives in Sydney. You remember Richard, from when you were little? He's gay. Shall I give him your number?"

"No!" Liam said quickly. He remembered Richard only too well, and frankly he'd sooner shove an angry echidna down his pants than go on a date with him, because the guy was a total dick. He could probably give that wanker from last night a run for his money—at least the guy last night had been hot, whereas Richard's build and features leaned more towards rodent-like. Then he blurted out, before he could think any better of it, "Actually, I am seeing someone!"

"What?" His mother was silent for a moment, before saying, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's…it's new," he said. "And I don't want to jinx it. And I have to go now, Mum, okay? We can talk about this later."

"You can bring him to dinner when we're down on the weekend," she said in that no-nonsense voice that brooked no argument. "We can meet him and Neve's young man at the same time. Did I tell you? Neve says they have news . Hopefully that means wedding bells!" The satisfaction in her tone was unmistakable.

Liam panicked, looking desperately around the room as though there were something there that could save him. He only saw the cat, and the cat was an evil bastard who would sit on Liam's head if he were drowning. "If I bring him, will it stop you nagging me about it?"

"William Patrick Connelly, I don't nag," his mother huffed. "I encourage ." She hummed. "Strongly."

Both Liam's parents had been amazingly supportive when he'd come out at the tender age of seventeen, telling him they didn't care who he was with, as long as he was happy with someone . Seeing her kids settled really was Mum's only goal, and he knew his single status stressed her out.

‘Happily single' wasn't a concept that registered with Mum. She came from a large Irish family with six brothers and sisters, and she was big on marriage and babies and happily-ever-afters—it was as much a part of her as her red hair and freckles, or her fondness for Guinness, and her intentions were good. It was just that she was an incurable romantic, as evidenced by her not-so-secret addiction to those novels that all seemed to feature a shirtless man and a gorgeous, wide-eyed woman clutched in his embrace on the cover.

Liam's dad had met her when he was in Ireland as part of a six-month backpacking tour around Europe, and it had been love at first sight, to hear his father tell it. They'd fallen for each other hard, which had resulted in her packing up and following him back to Australia. They'd been happily married for years and were still besotted with each other, and Mum seemed incapable of understanding that it wasn't like that, not for everyone. She couldn't fathom that some people didn't get to have adoring partners and happily-ever-afters. Some people just got cheating arseholes like Jonah.

"Mum," he said wearily.

There was a long silence. "I just want you to be happy," his mum said wistfully, and Liam felt his resistance weakening. He knew that to his mum, happiness meant being successfully partnered off, because that's what had made her so happy. He was pretty sure she viewed his older sister's marriage as more of a success than her getting her master's degree in PoliSci. "You will bring him to dinner, won't you?"

God. What the hell had he been thinking? He squeezed his eyes closed like he was about to swallow something nasty, and before he could change his mind, said, "I'll bring him to dinner, I promise."

"Oh, Liam, that'll be grand! We can't wait to meet him!"

With that, she ended the call. Liam was left to immediately regret his decision and wonder who the hell he could convince to go to dinner with his parents.

Liam squinted in the bright morning sunlight as he yawned and stretched and cursed the very existence of Monday mornings. He locked his bike and meandered across the uni grounds towards the lecture theatre. His parents had offered to get him a car more than once, but it honestly wasn't worth the expense and hassle of trying to get parking. Between his bike, public transport and the occasional Uber, he did okay. He let out another yawn and wondered once again why he'd chosen a morning class when all his friends had been smart enough to take the afternoon electives. Then he remembered that this was the only time this particular class ran, because his lecturer was a sadist who preferred to work in the mornings.

What kind of weirdo preferred mornings?

Still, it meant Liam had been able to arrange to catch up with Kelly before class. He hadn't been able to get her and her awful date out of his mind, and the more he thought about it, the more worried he was for her. That date had hoisted so many red flags that it had looked like a…well, a convention for something with red flags. Liam wasn't sure what, but that wasn't important right now. The important thing was that Kelly was his friend, and he wasn't going to just stand by and watch as she got taken advantage of by someone who was obviously bad news.

He absently folded and unfolded the pamphlets he was holding, which he'd picked up this morning from student services. He wasn't sure how involved with the arsehole Kelly was, but obviously involved enough that she'd introduced him to her parents, which, now he thought about it, was weird, because even Greg hadn't been granted that honour as far as he knew, and Greg was decent . Sure, his band hadn't exactly made it, and he was currently working at The Reject Shop and couch-surfing, but he was still streets ahead of Mr. " I've-done-porn-wanna-see? "

He flicked through the pamphlets again.

Coercive Control—what is it?

Relationship Red Flags

Are you a victim of Emotional Abuse? Know the signs.

He winced at the titles, but he guessed subtlety wasn't the point of this. He tucked them into his back pocket and headed across the carpark towards the campus coffee shop, praying that Kelly wouldn't take what he had to say badly.

Kelly stared at the pamphlets spread across the table in front of her, brow furrowed. "What—what are you saying? Don't you like Ambrose?"

Liam bit his lip. He'd planned to ease into this, but… "Not really, no. Honestly? I don't know what you see in him. He's an arsehole. He insulted you, tried to scam your dad and was rude as fuck. He's a dick."

"Ambrose just has a big personality," Kelly said, spine straightening as she squared her shoulders. "He said my friends wouldn't understand what I saw in him, because their consciousness isn't evolved enough to appreciate his inherent greatness, but that I should ignore what anyone else says because he knows best."

"Inherent greatness?" Liam sputtered. "He offered to show your mum porn! In the middle of a restaurant!"

"Ambrose says that social niceties are just artificial constructs to restrict our ability to be our authentic selves," Kelly said.

"Porn! In a restaurant!" Liam reiterated. "That's not being his authentic self, unless his authentic self is a giant wanker. And anyway, that's not what I'm worried about. It's the way he's a controlling jerk and a con artist. I mean, he completely overrode your wishes. Water and a salad for dinner, Kell? Since when?"

Kelly's face fell. "Ambrose says he knows what's best," she said quietly, and she dropped her gaze to the pamphlets in front of her. "Do you really think he's not good for me?" Her voice was small, and Liam felt bad, but he reminded himself that it was better that Kelly faced up to this now, and not in six months' time when this guy had weaselled his way into her life.

"He's really not, Kell."

Kelly's head remained bowed, and she covered his face with her hands, and her shoulders started to shake, and oh fuck, was she crying? Liam wasn't good with crying—or any sort of emotional distress, really. He cast a glance about wildly, not sure what he was looking for—the patron saint of crying women, perhaps—and saw Greg walking in the door. " Greg!" he called out, waving his arm and signalling for help as desperately as any swimmer who'd ever gotten caught in a rip at Bondi.

Greg saw him and came bounding over, sliding into the chair next to Kelly and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He leaned in and said quietly, "I think you broke him, Kell."

Kelly lifted her head, and it was then that Liam saw that she wasn't crying—she was laughing, body shaking as she finally let out her repressed cackles. He looked between her and Greg, whose arm was now wrapped around her in a distinctly boyfriend-shaped manner. Liam wanted to ask what the fuck was going on, but all that came out was a slightly shell-shocked "What?"

Kelly flapped a hand at him as she cackled for a bit longer, until finally, still giggling, she slapped Greg's arm and shoved at the pamphlets on the table. "You want to rescue me from the big bad boyfriend!" She started giggling even harder.

Greg rolled his eyes and nudged her. "Breathe, babe."

Kelly did. Then, wiping her eyes with a napkin and smearing her mascara, she turned a bright smile on Liam. "I knew my parents mightn't approve of Greg, what with the whole"—she gestured at Greg's long hair and eyeliner look—"musician thing. But I figured, what if they thought I was dating someone really, really terrible first?"

Liam blinked. "Wait, so you got some rando to pretend to be awful?"

"Not some rando," Kelly said, grin widening and showing off her slightly crooked eyetooth. "Ambrose is an arsehole for hire. He makes a living off going on dates and being awful."

"Well, he's pretty bloody good at it," Liam said, remembering how long it had taken him to clean up the mess after the tablecloth debacle. "Are you sure he's not an actual arsehole?"

Greg laughed. "Nah. He's a good guy. Theatre kid—he was in some of my vocal workshops before I dropped out. I dunno know how he came up with the idea, but he has this side hustle where he goes on dates and is just generally terrible. So now, when Kell's parents are back in town in a month, and I turn up for dinner instead of him, they'll fucking love me."

"Oh yeah, they hate him," Kelly confirmed. "My dad gave me a long talk last night about the choices I'm making, and I promised to think about it, so they'll just be relieved I'm not dating an ex-porn star who expects me to support him."

Liam thought about his own parents and how invested they were in his love life. "That's actually genius," he said.

"Right?" Kelly agreed.

"How much does he charge, anyway?" Liam asked, more out of idle curiosity than anything else. Surely the guy couldn't really make a living out of bad dates…could he?

"Sunday night was four hundred," Kelly said, and Liam's jaw dropped.

"For a bad date ?"

"Yep—his rates start at a hundred, but he charges extra for the full bad boyfriend experience. Still, if it means Greg gets the tick of approval, it'll have been worth every cent." She leaned in and pecked Greg on the cheek, and Liam ignored the tiny stab of envy he felt that Kelly had someone she was willing to go to such lengths for.

Which reminded him. "Hey, does he know anyone who does nice dates?"

Kelly's eyebrows raised. "Why? Finally ready to break your dry spell?"

"Shut up," Liam muttered. "No, I told Mum I was dating someone, and if I don't bring them to family dinner on Saturday, she's threatening to hook me up with this ferret-faced guy I knew as a kid."

Kelly winced, and Greg made a hissing noise as he sucked air through his teeth. "It's rough when your mum sets you up," he said.

"Oh, I know. Which is why I need to magically pull a date out of my arse by Saturday." Liam groaned and dropped his head onto his folded arms. Why hadn't he just stood up to his mum?

"Why not ask Ambrose?" Kelly asked.

"Because I don't want a bad date. I want someone who's at least halfway decent."

Kelly leaned across the table and shoved his shoulder. "Listen. He pretended he was a porn star and referenced the state of my mum's vagina post-childbirth. He'll literally do anything you ask on a date if you pay him enough. And I'm pretty sure his acting skills stretch to being nice to an antisocial git like you."

"I'm not antisocial!" Liam protested, lifting his head up.

"Well you're sure as shit not the life of the party," Kelly observed. "Anyway, my point stands." She dug around in her handbag and pulled out a card and slid it across the table. It was plain black, except for a tiny row of curlicued script that said BB Inc. Liam flipped it over to find a phone number. "You don't flash that around, all right?" Kelly warned. "Ambrose only works on personal recommendations, so when you call him, tell him I sent you."

Liam considered it. The guy had been hot, and Liam couldn't deny he wouldn't mind taking a second look at those eyes and that perfect profile, but still… He wasn't exactly filled with charitable thoughts towards someone who'd been responsible for trashing his table and making him work late, an d he wasn't sure he wanted to pay the guy any money. "I'll think about it," he hedged.

"Well, if you want him for Saturday, you'd better think fast or he'll be booked, and next thing you know your mum will call your bluff, and you'll be on a date with ferret face. And it's a better idea than trying to get a date on your own. I mean, you haven't managed it in over a year, so it's not likely you'll pull it off in a week."

Liam hated Kelly a little bit right then, sitting there all content with her wannabe rock star boyfriend and having opinions that he couldn't even argue with—because it wasn't like she was wrong, was it?

Still, Liam had to admit that Ambrose had put on a hell of a performance the other night. Maybe he was a good enough actor to convince Liam's family that he was there of his own free will. Liam pushed away the unbidden thought that whispered how pitiful it was that he was reduced to hiring someone to act like they wanted to spend time with him and reminded himself he was single by choice. Mostly.

He sighed, took in Kelly's expectant expression and pocketed the card. "Fine. I'll call him."