The One Awakened: Book 1 in The One Trilogy

by Alexandra North

  “So tell me, what’s happening in your life? How was Dubai? Is it really as hot as everyone says?”

  Surely it’s not as hot as you, I bet?

  Waiting to finish chewing Seb nods. “All good; nice to be home. Dubai is like Las Vegas, exciting and luxurious for a few days, then after a while it just felt like a rich man’s Blackpool.”

  His conservative response is disconcerting. He usually loves to regale stories about the countries he frequents and entertain me with tales of his wild nights out. I laugh, in spite of his lack of energy.

  “Easy for you to say, when you’ve had the opportunity to experience the world.”

  “Oh yeah, it’s very exciting living out of a bag and dealing with arrogant Arabs for nearly a year! I think it would have been easier to have experienced pregnancy, complete with natural, drug-free labour,” he offers up casually, blissfully unaware of the ridiculousness of his throwaway statement.

  I practically choke on my food. “Oh OK, like you’d know all about that Sebastian! Much easier to be pregnant for nine months then be split in half over a thirty-six hour labour, than handle a few difficult Arab princes with more money than sense!”

  Chuckling, I settle back into my seat and I can feel him watching my every move. I begin to relax and feel that cocoon of safety that Seb always manages to create around me - something I haven’t felt for a long time. He’d also always been able to put me at ease, but right now, I was both comfortable and on edge, if that was possible.

  Confused much?

  “Seriously though, you must be pleased it’s all nearly over?” I ask, as he suddenly seems quiet for him. Dubai has intensified him, no doubt there.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I am, it’s been great for the business, really great. We’ve got lots of rebound work from it. The Dubai Marina is amazing and what they are doing there is nothing short of futuristic. The Middle East definitely have vision.

  “Does the hotel look fabulous?”

  I refer to the spectacular Skyscraper Jannah Hotel, situated within Dubai Marina that Silver Construction has been contracted to assist in its completion. Sebastian had been overseeing the latter stages of the project at management level, negotiating, handling other contractor firms and assisting the architects and from what I’d heard, spent more time in a suit than his site-gear. He really was rolling with the big-guys now. He’d put into this one financially from both the personal and business coffers and now nearing completion and sale, the profits could be in the millions; so I understood the pressure to be immense.

  “It’s out of this world Lu - like something from a film set - pure polished steel, combined with glittering cut glass windows and the views! I’ll show you the pics soon. You’d die for the interior.”

  The passion is there but he’s not quite on the ball and I remind myself that the poor guy has just spent eight hours on a return flight from a different time zone.

  “I’m just tired I guess. I was really ready for home soil,” he sighs, running a hand over his newly cut hair.

  My eyes are drawn to the familiar gesture, seeing it differently for the first time. I’m sensing that all is not as it seems with Dubai and that there is definitely more to tell, but recognising his reluctance to divulge at present, I leave well alone, for now.

  Grateful to bypass any further questions he takes the opportunity to revert back to me. “Enough about me. How’s work?”

  “It’s great actually. Long hours and it’s been tough trying to be there for Finn, as much as I can and maintain his routine, but it’s good. I’ve potentially a big Hotel job on at the moment, which if successful, will be mean a huge bonus!” I smile in genuine excitement. “I feel like I’m finally doing what I was meant to do. Actually that reminds me, this may be a job for Silver Construction? Especially now you’re back for a while. I’ve got my meeting on Monday but I’ll get you to quote, if you’re up for it - doesn’t have to be you, Mr. Boss man - I know how busy you are, but maybe one of your many minions?

  Seb relaxes back into the sofa and stretches his well-muscled arm out along the top. I can see that he’s already inhaled his full pizza. It never ceased to amaze me the speed at which he ate. He pretty much did everything fast. Or maybe not? There I go again…

  I wonder if he’d fuck like that? Or if he’d be hard, yet slow? Stop Lucia!

  “That’s great Lu; you deserve it. Yeah I’ll take a look at the brief. Just send me the details,” he nods, taking a swig of his cold beer. “I’ve always told you to believe in your skills. You should have set up on your own years ago; fuck - we should have hooked up.” His eyes consider me seriously, watching my reaction.

  Hooked up?

  “Yeah, I can really tell that things are back on track. You are you again,” he continues, oblivious to my confusion and pleased with his revelations.

  “Me again? I didn’t go anywhere,” I respond, a bit annoyed actually and on the defensive.

  “Yes you did Lu. Sitting in front of me, is the girl I met at University - happy, independent, strong and confident. Bossy. Stubborn. Funny. A girl who know what she wants,” he laughs between swigging more beer, then keeps going. “… I haven’t seen her for years - well maybe had a few glimpses of her now and then,” correcting himself, he flicks a genuine smile in my direction, softening the blow, which allows me to calm my petulant childish thoughts and respond clearly.

  “Well, redundancy, a break-up and becoming a single parent will do that to you,” I joke, embarrassed at his compliments.

  Had I really changed that much?

  I already knew the answer to that. Unequivocally - yes!

  “You either crumble, or frame yourself. I chose to survive. Life’s good at the mo. In fact I’m dating… again.”

  I throw out this last bit in for retaliation really, although I’m not a hundred percent why but notice that he looks up in surprise and puts his fork down with a clatter.

  “Really? Who?”

  “Oh just someone I met via work. He’s a banker, previously married, now recently divorced and likes Chinese.”

  I flash my eyes and raise my eyebrows in encouragement at that last snippet; Seb and I lurve Chinese and I hope that this will maybe sway him in Leo’s favour.

  “It’s early days anyway. His name is Leo. He’s the manager of the Osten Bank near Elysium, and he’s taken control of my business accounts and loan management.” Taking a bite of pizza I laugh, as I struggle to stop the mozzarella cheese dangling from my chin.

  Very sexy!

  “He’s been a major asset to me in obtaining the funds I needed to boost the business.”

  “Clearly the best reason to date him then,” his deep voice adds, sarcastically.

  I look up at that droll comment and can clearly see that the information I’ve just provided him with has not gone down well.

  He isn’t laughing along with me. In fact his jaw is clenched in tension and he is staring at me intently, as if considering what to say next. He’s probably just feeling protective of Finn and I, in the brotherly manner he has always portrayed. I can understand that he wouldn’t want to see me rush into anything too soon. I decide to flip the switch.

  “What about you? Anyone tempt Britain’s most eligible bachelor?”

  He watches me for an age, as though he’s deciphering the words over and over and then with an upturned mouth barks, harshly. “Don’t change the subject Lulu. So when do I get to meet this Leo?” He practically orders it; struggling over Leo’s name.

  Hang on a minute, why does it seem like he’s angry all of a sudden? He’s not my father and who was changing the subject; me or him?

  “Tomorrow night actually; if you want to? He’s coming to meet up with us for drinks, for Suzie’s birthday. You coming?” I add graciously, placing my drink back onto the side-table.

  “Yeah I’ll see you there. Gino already invited me,” he shrugs and makes to stand up. “Right I’d better be off, I’m shattered and I’ve
got to go sort my shit out.”

  Why do men always use the term ‘sorting their shit out’ as an excuse to escape you? This is just code for ‘I need to be on my own now, crash on the sofa with a beer and kill someone on the playstation’. I’ve got news for all you men - women have cracked the code!

  “Yeah it’ll be nice to be back in my own bed again. Think I’ve only slept in it a handful of times since I moved into the new-build.” He refers to his relatively new, but gorgeous home, a perfect example for the Silver Construction portfolio.

  Wait - hasn’t he been luxuriating in a beautiful new build hotel, in Dubai of late? Life was really hard for some. Why has the mood changed so suddenly? It’s rapidly become uncomfortable and I just want to get back to comfortable - just normal time with my mate.

  “So you’re off then? That was quick. Glad I could supply you with some home-cooking, or at least a ready meal. It really is great to see you again Seb; I’ve missed you - rather a lot actually.”

  I smile up at him sheepishly, annoyed with myself for admitting my weakness. This would have been normal before - common practice between us, to admit our feelings and be open with one another.

  Gazing down at my face, his eyes scanning my face thoughtfully, it appears as though he wants to say something.

  “You look good Lu. Really good.”

  Hmmm - you do too!

  “I missed that twitchy little snub nose of yours.”

  My fingers fly up to it, instinctively. What?

  We lock eyes and his are narrowed and intense as he thrusts his hands into his cargo pockets. His body language is stiff, cool and appraising but finally he moves towards me, leaning in - I presume, to kiss my cheek - finally - normality between us at last! I can smell his scent - pure male, and feel the heat coming off his body. But I’m left hanging and feeling stupid, when he quickly changes his mind and gives me a fumbling shoulder slap instead.

  “We’ll catch up more tomorrow yeah?”

  His eyes focus on my lips and I moisten them instinctively, only holding his attention further. Then with my mute nod he’s gone. How strange? What was the bro pat all about?

  Men are so bloody weird.

  I’d never understand them truly but what I do know is that something over the past hour and half has changed; no scrap that - everything has changed, between two best friends. I feel strange, sad, discombobulated, excited - all rolled into one, but have a strong sensation that something special is on the cards and God knows I am seriously long overdue a little special in my life.

  Sliding into the car, I click my phone into its holder, and ease my seatbelt around my torso, before placing both hands on the steering wheel in front of me. I grip until my knuckles go white.

  OK then. What had that all been about?

  I hadn’t seen her in nine, no ten, months?

  She looked good. Really good. Fuck - didn’t just look good, she looked hot!

  She was dating again - already? Why hadn’t someone mentioned that to me?

  I start the engine, and pulling away, flick a quick last glance at the terrace on Rose Avenue, home to my mate from Uni - my friend of ten years, Lucia Myers. I shake my head in annoyance. Time apart hadn’t changed anything. No. I’m wrong; time apart had changed things - it had been like seeing her again for the first time. All I’d wanted to do was take her right there and then.

  I still want her - now more than ever - and the chemistry between us had been clear today. Like someone had flicked a switch. I felt it, like electricity; knew she felt it too, just like that night all those years ago. A night both of us had buried and forgotten. Instead we’d forged an amazing friendship with the obvious spark between us lying disconnected, all this time.

  I visualise her face, at the moment she’d seen me, her gorgeous green eyes, quickly sparking with lime, liquid gold and heat as she looked at me when I’d arrived. She’d definitely felt it too. I am sure of that. She was ready. It was time to take her before she was lost to me again. I’d given her the chance to heal after that prick had walked all over her and left her to pick up the pieces but she’d proven that she had the strength to pull through and be my Lulu again. And that little man - he was a corker, a real credit to her; yeah there was no doubt about it, my Godson is a total dude.

  I run a hand over my newly cut hair, questions buzzing around inside it, annoyingly. The problem is, I want her but do I want more than that?

  Can I do the long haul? Ten-years ago? No. I hadn’t been ready for it - but now? Maybe. Maybe now, I could do the pipe and slippers thing. Lucia is the only woman who had ever made me consider more than a quick fuck. The only woman I’d ever wanted to share my mind and body and life with.

  Would it ruin our friendship?

  Am I doing my usual ‘chasing after the one thing I can’t have’?

  This time I have to try, or spend the next ten years living with regret. I can’t miss out on this opportunity again.

  Later, whilst I dutifully coat myself in St Tropez self-tanning mousse for tomorrow’s night out, I ponder why I suddenly can’t stop thinking about Sebastian, and not just as a friend. I hate the fact that for some reason, things between us aren’t OK. In general, my life is pretty good. I feel great about myself for the first time in months. My social life is excellent. I have great single girlfriends (a must when you are in the single market) and my career is firing on all cylinders. And then there’s Leo. - I’d met him a few weeks earlier, and am due to have our second date tomorrow night. He is available and harmless - perfect to use as the in-between rebound guy, for a summer-fling.

  Would he take me to wild sexual heights though? I’m not so sure.

  Sebastian could (I’m sure of it) - argghh! Why am I now thinking about my best friend in that way?

  I need to seriously get some bedroom action soon or I’m going to embarrass myself big-time! Thank goodness Meg was having her ‘wild ride’ sex toy party in the near future.

  Sebastian has always been a major part of my life and as Finn’s Godfather; he had been an amazing role model for him in his early years. But deep down, I knew that it had been the break-up when he had shown his true support. He had been my rock then, truly incredible.

  Niall had walked out only days before without warning, and without setting in place a plan of action for Finn or our finances. I’d been made redundant on the Friday from my part-time design and marketing position, and to add insult to injury whilst serving up Sunday dinner two days later, Niall had informed me that he was going. It turned out he wasn’t going to see his mate Mark, who lived a few streets away as I’d first thought, but in actual fact, was leaving me, and our two year old son, for pastures new, or ‘vadge’s new’ as Abby crudely coined it. All, just as I was about to serve up a roast chicken dinner with gorgeous fluffy homemade bloody Yorkshire puddings!

  At the time, that was what had annoyed me the most; the fact that I’d made my own batter from scratch; for him! Not a frigging frozen Aunt Bessie pudding in sight. Isn’t it strange the things that go through your mind when your world, as you know it, suddenly stops and does a complete hundred and eighty degree rotation, leaving everything altered. Tilted. Shattered.

  I had spent the next twenty-four hours in shock. After talking as rationally as I could manage, Niall agreed to visit the GP to see if it was depression, as I couldn’t understand why he had suddenly decided that our partnership was over, even though looking back on it there were definite and huge holes in our relationship. Returning, he’d stated in no uncertain terms, “It is not depression, it is you. You’re the problem.”

  Not the best thing to hear from your partner but little did I know that he was actually doing me a favour with those eleven life-changing words. They made me strong during an impossibly turbulent time and whilst he returned to work that day, I quickly withdrew into my protective armour, and packed his things into a case, one of the hideous old ‘hearing aid beige’ Antler numbers we’d inherited from my paren
ts – I wasn’t going to send the selfish prick off looking stylish! I’d spent the best part of ten years trying to turn him into a fashion icon and now that he looked passable, it was going to go to use on some other woman - pah!

  The crime to luggage fashion was sitting heavily pregnant with its stuffing, at the foot of the stairs, awaiting his return that night, along with a pile of man’s crap I’d been itching to throw out for years and had never dared. A post it note completed the rather blunt ‘Fuck Off!’

  For a while, I was still under the impression he was struggling with life in general and that it was all just getting on top of him. So I’d tried to be supportive and do the right thing, whatever that was, for Finn’s sake more than mine.

  The reality came at me, months later, like a car crash. No. Sorry - that’s belittling it somewhat. It could be more likened to a motorway pile up - complete with decapitation.

  He was a lying, cheating, fucking asshole!

  He’d had his faults but I’d never though he was a cheat. Apparently, he’d been having it away with some account manager at work for six months and she was more carefree than me and didn’t have kids, so it was a win-win!

  With hindsight - the glorious, unobtainable object that it is when you need it, I would have reviewed our situation differently - well before Niall had flipped out. Whilst we had been happy at definitive times throughout our on/off ten-year relationship, there had always been something missing; something lacking that was difficult to pinpoint. If I’m honest, I had always wondered if we’d ever make it to five-years, let alone ten. But coming from a family, where my parents had been happily married for thirty-five years, I felt that I owed it to Finn to make do and hoped that one day, the much-coveted link would be served up to me on a platter. The reality was that the aforesaid missing link had been there all along, under my nose, in the form of Niall Wilson - cruel but so true.

  Niall, as a fellow college student, had seemed pretty cool at the time; he was fun, unique, sensitive and arty and I suppose this made him appear moody and unobtainable. These attributes had appealed to me at 19, but had I just listened to my inner voice and ignored the romantic in me that thought I could fix him, I would have realised that he was in fact immature, temperamental and unavailable emotionally. I thought back to that night in the student bar, when circumstances had thrown us together and we’d kind of clicked. But he should never have been the one I’d gone home with that night.