“Speaking of nice couples, we haven’t had much chance to talk since the night with Becca… You’re fucking your boss?”
The spoon fell from my hand, clattering loudly against my mug. I cleared my throat and quickly swept up the sugar I’d spilled on the counter with my hand. I thought perhaps I had gotten away without the third degree. It had been a week since that fateful evening where Becca and Oliver had accidentally encroached on Rowan and me. I wasn’t sure what to say. When I didn’t reply, Oliver appeared in the doorway.
“Look, you know I don’t give a shit who you’re seeing usually, but are you sure this one is a good idea? There’s a saying about fucking where you eat, isn’t there?”
“It’s shitting, not fucking,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes downcast. “Don’t shit where you eat.”
Oliver shrugged. “Whatever, you know what I mean. I’m not laying into you, you do what you want, but it seems complicated and unnecessarily risky.”
“No, no. You’re right,” I sighed. “It’s all a bit of a mess, to be honest.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I really like him though, Ol. Like,reallylike him.”
“I figured you did. It’s not like you to throw yourself into shit like this. You’re usually so picky.”
I smiled sadly. The kettle clicked as it finished boiling and I turned my back, glad for a reason to look away.
Oliver sighed. “I’m no good at all this. I just don’t want you getting hurt, alright? Neither does Becca. We’re worried.”
“Well, thanks.” I paused. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you refer to yourself as a ‘we’.” I grinned over my shoulder.
“Yeah, well, you’re not the only person in the world whoreallylikes someone,” Oliver argued, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I need to go. Just think about what I said, okay?”
“I will. Thanks, Ol.”
Oliver nodded and turned to walk away.
“And good luck with the shopping!” I shouted, laughing when he groaned.
“Oh, and before I forget.” Oliver reappeared in the doorway, shrugging on his coat. “I’m staying at Becca’s tonight, so if you’re looking to get your dick wet, we won’t be accidentally intruding tonight.”
“Jesus Christ, Ol,” I groaned.
“Just sayin’.” He grinned. “See you tomorrow.”
“Alright, bye.”
The door slammed and I stood alone in the quiet flat, sipping my tea. No Rowan, no Oliver and no Becca… The Valentine’s weekend was going to suck. I pulled my phone out and tapped a message to Louise.
MAX: Free tonight?
No reply came immediately, so I slid my phone back into my jeans. It had been a long time since I had no plans on a weekend, and no one around to make them with, either. I wondered if this was how things were going to be from now on, if Oliver was as serious about Becca as he seemed to be. I was glad – Becca deserved to meet someone nice and Oliver really needed someone to kick some sense into him. Becca was just the girl for that job.
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out.
LOUISE: We’ve got plans, and you’re welcome to join us, but I’m not sure it would be your bag…
MAX: You sure? It’s Valentine’s weekend, I’d understand if you were busy.
LOUISE: A friend of ours is doing a special Valentine’s burlesque show, and we’re going to watch. It’s in Pink, the strip club.
“Ugh,” I groaned. Louise was right,definitelynot my thing, but was it preferable than moping around the flat on my own? Hell yes.
MAX: What time?
LOUISE: We’ll meet you outside at eleven.
MAX: I’ll be there. Is there a dress code?
LOUISE: Shirt and shoes for the fellas… or I suppose you could wear a basque and feather boa, if you’re feeling adventurous!
