‘Neither can I, but you can keep your rugs. We didn’t.’
‘What do you mean you didn’t? You didn’t what?’
‘Didn’t have sex with Rory in your hut with a party full of people in your house that could come in at any point.’
‘Why not?’
‘I refer you to my previous answer.’
‘We worked so hard on that for you. We turned it from family central into sex space extraordinaire.’
‘Which I greatly appreciate but still, nothing happened. Thank you for trying though. Very sweet and all that.’
‘Oh, girl, you know I’ve got you. You ever want a sex palace prepared for you again, then you know who to call.’ She nods, channelling Snoop Dogg in the knowingness of her smile.
‘Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind.’ I am definitely not doing that.
‘Cool. So, what were the two of you doing in there all that time?’
The silly smile comes back. ‘We cuddled up. Talked. He um … he…’
‘Oh my God, look at your face. You have itsobad. He what?’
‘He stroked my hair,’ I admit, in a very quiet voice because I’m embarrassed. I shouldn’t be. But I feel like such a fool now because of how special it had felt that night, the bond I thought we had developed. I thought in that moment that we had something. What an idiot.
And now he isn’t returning my messages. I’m used to being the one that disappoints people, the one seen as flaky in her shitty choices. I had expected to disappoint Rory from the very beginning, from when he came to my flat bearing my favourite take-away. The last thing I ever expected was for him to disappoint me.
And for it to hurt so fucking much.
Nope, stop dwelling.
‘Ooh, hang on, what happened there?’ Luisa pounced.
‘Eh?’
‘Your face just fell a country mile. One minute you’re beaming like a lunatic and then boom. What the fuck happened between him stroking your hair and Little Miss Sad Face.’
‘Honestly, Lu. I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know?’
‘There’s some kind of freaky echo in this room,’ I say, casting a look around, trying to distract her and then realising that I want to talk about this. Need to. ‘Honestly, Luisa, it’s all been a bit of a weird thing. We’ve practically spent this last month together. If, for whatever reason, normally work, we can’t see each other then we’re texting, sending each other stupid memes and threads. Otherwise we see each other every day. I’ve been to lunch with his parents in their home, for Christ’s sake. He’s gone from some guy I once knew in uni to my … um, second best friend.’ I smile at her. I may be soppy ga-ga in love with Rory but Luisa is my best friend and isn’t getting robbed of that cos of some man. But everything I have done, felt, this month I have confided in Rory. We have our own jokes, our ways of speaking. He has become my go-to-guy in a very short space of time and I am missing him.
‘I knew you two were spending time together but nearly every day? You’ve been to his parents’ house? There’s way too much here to process.’
‘You’re telling me!’
‘So, okay, you’ve done some kind of fast and furious relationship shit and condensed a year of dating into a couple of weeks, yet you didn’t have sex in the love hut?’
‘We haven’t had sex at all.’
‘No!’ Luisa bangs her drink down and sits bolt upright. ‘No sex at all? I know I’ve had harsh words for you in the past but you have revolutionised your sexual behaviour in the last few years. From only sleeping with people who look like they’re incubating every STD going or have the ability to steal your purse with one hand whilst stroking your face with the other…’ I spit my wine out; she isn’t far wrong. Funny, harsh but pretty accurate. ‘. . . You now sleep with no one at all. Ever. Finally, this perfect man comes along who issointo you and you still don’t have sex? No sex at all? Little bit of hand play?’
‘No! Ewww. Nothing. We’ve been strictly platonic.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, he’s only here for a month, he doesn’t like me like tha—’
