My phone rings. It’s on the table under the mirror, where I’d left it after messaging Ruby and Leo. I can hear it vibrating, but obviously ignore it becausehellothis kiss is outrageous and it’s likely Ruby and/or Leo calling to ask how the naked run went.
If only they knew. I cannotwaitto tell them.
I’m somehow up against the door now and he’s kissing my neck and I can’t believe this is happening, and I feel completely caught up in this incredible, passionate moment with Jamie, who I thought was so irritating and rude at first, but now he may just be the hottest guy on the planet, and I don’t care if this is reckless or outrageous, I’m loving every second because it’s nice to feelwanted and it’s even nicer to feel wanted by Jamie, whom I want, too.
My phone rings again. I ignore it again.
I’m suddenly very much aware that I’m entirely naked under my dressing gown. He hasn’t tried anything yet, but what if he does?! What do I do? I’m not sure I can handle being naked in one fell swoop. It’s usually a gradual thing, with clothes being removed one at a time, so it’s not so sudden, but I don’t have that option.
Who cares?
There goes my phone another time. I don’t ignore it this time and neither does Jamie, because three phone calls one after the other at this time of night isn’t normal.
“Do you need to check that?” he asks huskily in my ear, and I know he wants me to say no, but we both know the answer is yes, otherwise we wouldn’t have stopped.
I smile and release myself from his arms, walking over to check my screen in the hope that it’s Ruby and there are accompanying silly messages, so I don’t need to panic about it being anything genuinely serious. I look at the missed calls.
Matthew.
I inhale sharply, the shock making me numb. The phone rings out as I’m staring at it.
“Who is it?” Jamie asks. “Everything okay?”
It starts ringing for the fourth time: Matthew.
“Sorry, I… I should probably get this. Something might be wrong,” I say to Jamie, before turning to face away from him and picking up. “Hello?”
“Freya,” he says, and the sound of his voice makes me feel dizzy. “I need to talk to you.”
“This isn’t a good time, Matthew,” I tell him, trying to be firm, but closing my eyes because it’s exciting and painful at the same time to have him call me. “Is everything all right?”
“I miss you.”
He’s drunk. I can always tell when he’s drunk, even if it’s not obvious. The slight tilt in his voice. I know him.
“You’re drunk,” I say, my heart aching. “You can’t—”
“No, I know. I know I shouldn’t be doing this. But I do miss you. Okay? I just… I had to tell you. I saw your picture on Instagram and it made me smile, because there you are. It made me miss you.”
Stop it.
“Matthew, please—”
“I think we should meet up. We need to talk. We haven’t talked. But it’s been enough time now, hasn’t it? We’ll talk it all through.”
Please can he stop.
“Okay,” I say, my mouth dry, “but you need to go, because you’re drunk and you—”
“Stop saying that! I mean what I say. I’ll message you tomorrow and you’ll see.”
What about Jamie?
“Fine. That’s fine, you can message tomorrow. I have to go.”
“I don’t want you to forget about me, you know? That’s what’s made me so confused. I thought we’d made the right decision, even though it was so hard. Then I see you and the idea of not being in your life—”
Make it stop.
