CALLUM
Abby puts her headphones back on and motions for me to do the same.
‘That was Jon Secada there, a classic from 1992. Thank you for joining us today. Callum Connolly’s about to the reveal The Single Man’s Perspective.’
It’s uncomfortably cramped in the studio with both Aoife and Abby in the room, not to mention Candice watching intently through the window. All she’s missing is a big bucket of salted popcorn. At least someone’s enjoying the show, and I haven’t even started yet.
‘So, Callum, what the listeners want to know first is what men look for when they are looking for a life partner?’ Abby crosses her long and inviting legs, not three feet away from me.
It’s hard to focus when she’s within reach. Oh, what I wouldn’t reach, given the chance. I arrived intending to make her pay for throwing me out on Saturday. But she came armed herself, with that dress revealing just enough cleavage to ensure I can barely think of anything other than what lies beneath.
‘Ha. I might not be the best person to answer that one, I clearly haven’t secured my life partner yet.’ I shoot her a flirtatious wink. ‘Though I’m pretty sure she’s not a million miles away from me.’
She flashes me another distinct warning, which I have zero intention of heeding.
‘Answer the question please, Callum. The women of Ireland are dying to find out.’ She imitates an air of boredom, but anyone with half a brain could read between the lines. I’m going to make sure they don’t have to.
‘Okay, well, first of all, I think honesty is of the utmost importance from a partner. You need someone that’s going to be straight with you, right? Nothing worse than living a life of pretence…’
‘Valid point.’ She acknowledges reluctantly. ‘Anything else?’ She’s desperate to move on, but I’m only beginning to find my feet.
‘And then there’s the big one, of course…’ I say, conspicuously tapping the side of my nose, though I’m letting her in on a well-kept secret. ‘You need chemistry. A burning, passionate, overwhelming urge to rip the clothes clean off that person.’ I pause for effect, allowing my words to sink in. She shifts uncomfortably in her chair, the plastic pen that she’s gripping between her fingers snaps under increased pressure.
I take her silence as an opportunity to continue. Candice nods vigorously from the window.
‘Let’s face it, if you don’t have that overpowering, all- consuming attraction in the beginning, you won’t find it in the bottom of your laundry basket ten years later,’ I continue.
Abby’s turned on at the prospect of clothes ripping. Fire dances in her enormous eyes. She clears her throat, keen to move on.
‘Interesting perspective, Callum.’ She attempts to sound blasé, though I’d bet my life she’s imagining the same scene as me right now.
She needs to understand that I want more than just sex from her. ‘Another thing that’s equally important as the physical aspect, is to find someone you’re comfortable introducing to your family and friends. Or in my case, my teammates. Someone that fits into your circle. That’s the clincher for me. When you find that person, you’ll know. Even if you’re not looking for them, that’s my experience, anyway.’
Abby’s face clouds over. She’s troubled.
‘Thank you, Callum, for sharing your vast experience with us. We’ll take some more music now, but stay tuned. Callum will be answering your questions live on air shortly.’ Abby hits play and Bonnie Tyler’s, ‘Holding Out for a Hero’ blasts round the tiny room. She rises from her chair and bolts from the room without looking back.
I spring to my feet and follow, three seconds behind her. Candice places a hand lightly in front of me, but wild horses won’t stop me now. I hear her shout to Aoife to run an ad break. My eyes remain on the prize, which dives into a door four metres further along the corridor on the left. I fly through it before she can close it in my face.
Her breathing is ragged. She’s visibly flustered. Confusion mists in her chocolate eyes. On closer inspection, she looks tired.
‘Callum, what are you doing to me?’ She presses her back against the closed door of a four-foot cupboard.
‘This.’ I lunge forward, placing a hand either side of her tiny frame on the solid wooden door so she can’t wriggle away from me this time. I bring my face to hers and inhale the scent of her perfumed skin. Never have I wanted a woman so much in my life. She makes me want to be a better a version of myself, someone who people could turn to for advice, someone solid, who has it together, supported by a good woman beside him. I want her to be that woman. I’m done fucking around.
‘Tell me you don’t want this, and I swear, I’ll never pester you again,’ I whisper, gently pressing my body against hers, tempting her with every inch I have.
‘I don’t want to be another notch on your bedpost,’ she confesses.
‘I don’t want you to be either. Go out with me, for real. I’ve never wanted anything as much in my life. You have to believe me.’
A hesitant upward glance from beneath those extensive charcoal eyelashes offers the response I crave. My lips crash onto hers, the heat of her mouth scorches my tongue. She yanks me closer, her breasts pressing promisingly against my chest. Hungry mouths explore, loaded with long harboured anticipation. I run my hands over the front of her dress, fingertips skimming her chest before tracing the curve of her waist.
Abby responds with the force of a gathering hurricane. Her lips are made for mine and mine alone. A sharp gasp permeates her desire. She wants this. And I can’t wait to give it to her.
A loud knock from behind the door reminds me that now is not the time or place.
‘Coming.’ Abby frees herself from my grip.
