‘You should be thinking about writing romantic fiction instead of becoming a journo,’ I told her, reaching for the black halter-neck top I was wearing to the party. ‘We were friends, that’s all. Really good friends. If my heart got hurt, it was only because, despite our good intentions, we never kept in touch after he moved away.’
Finally, I seemed to have told her a story that she could file away under the heading ‘Mildly Interesting, But Not At All Spicy’.
‘Oh, well. You never know who’ll be at the party tonight. Maybe my mystery guy will bring a mate with him. Or maybe there’ll be another bloke with an oversized body part who’ll take your fancy.’
I snorted with laughter. ‘Yeah, maybe,’ I said.
The party was in full swing when we got there. We could hear the thumping throb of music before we’d even started walking up the hill from the bus stop.
We had to stop twice on the five-minute walk for Andie to slip out of her ridiculously high shoes and rub her pinching toes.
‘Why did you wear them if they hurt your feet that much?’ I asked reasonably.
She gave me a scowl as she tried to persuade the blood to return to her little toes. ‘Darren said his friend is really tall.’ She looked up and grinned mischievously from behind the fall of her blonde hair. ‘And fit. He’s super, super fit. Have I mentioned that yet?’
I gave an over-exaggerated, long-suffering sigh. ‘Only about a thousand times. Do you know anything else about him, other than the fact that your cousin thinks you’ll fancy the pants off him?’
Andie gave an uncaring shrug. ‘What else is there to know?’
‘Well, his name might be nice for starters. Or what he studies. Or what he’s into.’
She frowned as though faced with some really tough interview questions. ‘Erm, I think his name is John ... or maybe Johnnie? And I’ve no idea what he’s studying. And as far as what he’s into ...’ She checked her watch. ‘Well, I’m hoping in about ten minutes or so, the answer to that one is going to be “me”.’
‘You’re impossible,’ I said on a laugh, taking the bottles of cheap wine from her as she hopped on one leg to put her shoes back on. ‘Perhaps this one doesn’t want to be another notch on your bedpost.’
Andie paused for a moment, as though the absurdity of that statement deserved her full attention. She shook her head, making the silver hoops in her ears glint beneath the streetlight. ‘Well, now you’re just being ridiculous.’
But as extra insurance against rejection, she leant forward and jiggled her cleavage into position.
‘Poor bloke doesn’t stand a chance,’ I said, feeling almost sorry for her unsuspecting date. It was like watching a black widow spider close in on its prey.
The place was heaving and the front drive was already filled with an overflow of people clutching cans, bottles, or plastic beakers full of cheap plonk.
‘One day it would be nice to drink a wine that couldn’t double up as paint stripper,’ I said as I placed the bottles we’d brought with the dozens of others on the kitchen table.
I picked a random bottle and filled two plastic cups to the brim. Andie was still busy on her phone.
‘Is your cousin here already?’
She slid the mobile back into her jeans pocket and gave a nod before scoping out the room again.
‘He messaged about half an hour ago saying they’d arrived. But he’s not replied to my message since then and isn’t picking up his phone.’
‘He probably can’t hear it above the music,’ I grumbled, raising my voice to a shout to be heard.
‘Alright, grandma,’ Andie teased, downing half of her drink in a single gulp. ‘Shall we circulate and see if we can spot them?’ She was already heading out of the kitchen.
Andie didn’t need a wingman, she did just fine on her own – and she especially didn’t need one tonight, with her blind date already in the bag. Even so, I followed her into the jam-packed hallway. We had an unspoken pact to keep an eye out for each other. I knew her cousin had vouched for this unknown John bloke, but I wouldn’t be happy leaving her until I’d seen him myself. The guys went to university in another city and I didn’t know how well Darren knew him.
‘Over there,’ she said, turning and grabbing my elbow to ensure I was keeping up. ‘That’s Darren on the left by the window, and I’m guessing – or rather, hoping – the guy beside him with the broad shoulders and great bum is my date.’
I tried to follow the direction where she was looking, but unlike Andie, I wasn’t wearing skyscraper heels, and it was hard tosee over the sea of heads bobbing up and down to the beat of the music. It was only when we were halfway across the room that the crowd thinned out enough for me to see where we were headed.
There were two figures standing beside the open window. Both had their backs to us. Andie’s cousin was in a pool of light but the person beside him was much harder to make out as they were half hidden in the shadows. All I could see for sure was that his hair was dark and that my friend’s assessment of his physique had been accurate. A t-shirt was stretched taut across a pair of muscular shoulders. His jeans were faded, fashionably ripped, and slung so low on his narrow hips I could read the brand name of the underpants he favoured. I had to agree that the bum they covered looked every bit as cute as Andie had claimed.
I was disappointed with myself at the sudden pang of something that felt an awful lot like envy. I’d never been one to go solely on a person’s looks, but even before this guy turned around, I was interested in him. And he wasn’t mine to fancy. He was Andie’s.
‘Hey, Darren,’ Andie called out, managing to find a segue between songs to make herself heard. Her cousin spun around, a broad grin splitting his face when he spotted her. He jabbed his companion in the ribs, who also turned.
