A light kiss on my neck made me gasp. My pulse raced as he kissed me again and ran his fingers through my hair. It felt amazing. But we had to talk. I had to be honest with him. I had to…Oh God, what’s he doing to me?More kisses on my neck transported me back to our university days when he’d kiss my neck and shoulders until I was practically begging for him. It still had the same effect. I wanted him. I wanted him so badly. I twisted round and our lips met with longing and urgency.
The taste of red wine on his tongue jolted my mind from passion to reality. I didn’t love him. I was certain of that. It was only lust and nostalgia confusing my feelings. I loved Nick, though. Even though I believed he’d moved on, I felt like I was being unfaithful to him and very unfair to Andy.
‘What’s up?’ he asked when I pulled away.
‘I need a drink. I’ll be back in a moment.’
Without a second glance at him, I darted out of the lounge and sought refuge in the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of Sauvignon Blancout of the fridge, I held it against one flushed cheek, then the other.Phew! That was close.
The stairs creaked. Andy obviously needed the toilet, which meant I had a bit more time to compose myself and plan my next steps. Well, they could certainly start with a drink. I unscrewed the lid and poured myself half a glass, which I gulped down instantly.
Andy had clearly had a lot to drink before coming round. I could smell it. I could taste it. I could hear the slur in his speech. How drunk was he, though, because that would have a huge effect on how he’d take the news? He’d never been able to hold his drink. It was possible he’d built up a tolerance over the years, but the Andy I knew at university would get silly, then amorous, then aggressive. Silly – and even amorous – Andy could be fun. Aggressive Andy wasn’t. When I say aggressive, I don’t mean in a violent way, just in a confrontational arsey kind of a way. Had he had enough to hit that point? Would giving him another glass of wine tip him into it? I could hardly go back with just a glass for me, though, could I?
I sighed as I topped up my drink and poured him a glass. My phone beeped so I fished it out of my pocket, frowning at the name on the screen. A text from Andy? What the…?
?? From Andy
Hurry up. I’m all ready for you xx
I shook my head as I put the phone back in my jeans pocket. A hallway separated us yet we were communicating by text. It struck me as quite ironic as text had become our only form of communication in our last couple of weeks together, although Andy’s texts back then had lacked the kisses and smiley faces.
What did he mean by, ‘I’m all ready for you’? Ready for what? My stomach sank.No! Don’t say Amorous Andy is here. Don’t let him be…
I pushed the lounge door open with my foot. Empty. That creak on the stairs?Oh no! Don’t say…I gingerly made my way upstairs, still holding the drinks. Heart thumping, I opened my bedroomdoor and gasped at the sight of Andy, stark bollock naked, sprawled out on the bed.
‘Oh my God! What are you doing?’
‘Waiting for you,’ he said. ‘You’re a bit over-dressed, but we can soon rectify that.’ He patted the bed beside him and did a little growl. I think he was aiming for sexy but he fell a little short. I tried to turn my laugh into a cough in case Aggressive Andy made an appearance.
‘Are you coming here or do I have to come and get you?’ He winked but it made him look psychotic rather than seductive.
I wrinkled my nose as I put the drinks down on the bedside table. ‘Would you put some clothes on first?’
‘Why?’ He squinted at me as if struggling to focus.
‘Because I thought you’d come round so we could talk. Not to… you know.’
‘We can talk after. Little Andy’s ready for his reunion.’
Little Andy? No, no, no, no, NO!We’d never used a pet name before, had we? Surely I’d have remembered. ‘Andy! Please.’
He frowned. ‘But I thought this was what you wanted. You seemed pretty keen downstairs.’
He was right and it had been very unfair of me. That kiss had definitely been of the ‘take me to bed right now’ variety but I absolutely couldn’t see it through. ‘Sorry. I can’t, Andy. Erm…’ I fished around for an excuse. ‘Not in Auntie Kay’s bed.’
‘Downstairs then?’
I shook my head. ‘I can’t.’
He stared at me for a while then looked down. ‘Okay. You win. Little Andy’s gone to sleep now anyway. I’ll put my kecks on.’
‘And your shirt? And maybe your jeans?’ I couldn’t stay and watch. ‘I’ll make us some coffee and meet you back in the lounge.’
When I entered the lounge with two mugs of coffee, Andy was there and had thankfully replaced his shirt and jeans although I could see that he’d brought the glasses of wine down and had already polished off his and half of mine.
‘What do you want coffee for?’ he slurred. ‘Have some wine.’ Then he sniggered. ‘Oh, I’ve already drunk most of yours. May aswell have the rest.’ Before I could protest, he’d picked up my glass and taken a few swigs.
‘To us.’ He clinked his glass against my mug then gave me a lopsided grin and patted the sofa again. ‘I promise not to jump on you if you sit down.’
