‘Perhaps next time I’m in town we could…’ Hope glints from beneath those huge puppy dog eyes.
‘Mark.’ An unmistakable warning piques my tone.
His hands fly up in reluctant acceptance. ‘Ok, ok. You don’t do repeats. I remember.’
With a palm lightly between his shoulder blades, I usher him out of my bedroom towards the stairs. ‘I had a great night, Mark. Thank you.’
It’s a kind, white lie.
I’ve yet to meet my sexual soulmate. Last night was as average as every other encounter I’ve had over the previous years. And I’m pretty sure that has nothing to do with Mark, and everything to do with me.
As he lingers by the heavy front door, he shoots me one last smile weighted with regret.
‘Safe flying, Mark. Take care.’
It’s barely nine o’clock and I’m emotionally drained. If a one-night stand can do this to me, how would I cope with an actual relationship?
I have no idea how my sister, Sasha, does it. I never imagined she’d be the type to settle down, but since she’s been with Ryan, she’s been positively glowing.
I take a croissant and a Nespresso onto the balcony to FaceTime her. I miss her so much my chest physically aches. There’s less than a year between us and our bond is as strong as identical twins.
I hate being so far away from her, but it couldn’t be helped. I had to get away from Huxley Castle, our family’s stately home, before the walls closed in on me permanently.
With the time difference, it’s still ridiculously early in Dublin. Sasha hates my wake-up calls, but it’s too tempting not to see her stunning, sunny face. Besides, someone has to rouse her, if her rock star fiancé hasn’t beaten me to it.
Gross.
It’s one thing knowing your sister’s having mind-blowing sex with America’s hottest rock star, and entirely another to get a first-hand glimpse of it, no matter how close we are.
With the warmth of the morning sun on my face, I sink into a cushioned chair and tap Sasha’s name on my iPhone while soaking up the surrounding scenery. A foliage of greenery spans decoratively across my terracotta terrace, a poor replacement for the lush emerald rolling landscape of home.
Sasha answers on the first ring. Her grinning face fills my screen.
‘You’re up early this morning.’ My eyebrows arch in an unspoken question.
‘Not as early as my fiancé.’ Her accompanying wink leaves nothing to the imagination. Behind her, the familiar living area comes into view. Majestic navy curtains are still drawn, blocking out the dark Dublin morning.
I might miss my sister, but I don’t miss the weather.
‘At least someone round here is satisfied.’
‘The desert still running dry over there?’ Sasha’s cherry-coloured lips form into a sympathetic pout.
A sip of black coffee burns the back of my throat as I conjure up the appropriate words to describe my current sorry state of affairs. ‘I wouldn’t say dry exactly. It’s just almost impossible to fully satiate a woman, if you know what I mean.’
‘Say no more.’ Sasha’s splayed fingers make a poor attempt to cover her eyes. ‘You know, sis, I worry about you.’
‘Me? Why on earth would you be worried about me?’
Slim, dainty fingers slip from her eyes and her engagement ring glitters brightly enough to be spotted from space. ‘Having a bit of fun when you’re in your twenties is all well and good, but even though you’re going through the motions, you don’t seem to be having much actual fun.’
She’s uncannily right. Sporadic nights with strangers are becoming less entertaining with each passing year, but how do I rectify that without lowering my carefully constructed guard?
‘Don’t worry about me, Sash. You have enough on your plate. I’m great, honestly. Everything is fine.’
She swallows hard. ‘I love you, that’s all. I’d like to see you happy.’
‘I love you too, sis. But your idea of happy and mine just look a bit different, you know?’
