Right Click, Love
Page 3
Jodie watched her friend flop onto the sofa. “I decided to have a weekend just for me. Recharge the batteries, so to speak. Is that a crime?”
“I guess not, but why haven’t you answered the phone?”
Jodie picked up her phone to see that she had eight missed calls in the last hour and numerous messages. “I had the phone on silent so I wouldn’t be disturbed.”
Louise looked a little uncomfortable. “Sorry.” She stood up, making Jodie think she was going to leave. “Tea?”
Or not . . . “Sure.”
Louise didn’t hear the sigh her friend expelled as Jodie closed her book and stood up to stretch out her muscles. “I’m just going to grab a quick shower.” Her weekend of luxury was at an end.
~*~*~
25 July 2012 – Back in the Game
Having a weekend of doing nothing is a luxury I could get used to having. Not once did I turn on the computer to check my messages. I switched my phone to silent and took it off vibrate and just read (which got me in trouble with Lou). I even managed to avoid mushy chick lit books, too; I didn’t think reading those would have helped much, considering stuff like that never happens to me and falls under the realm of unrealistic in my experience.
When I got into work on Monday, I checked all my emails and speed dating messages. I was lucky that all the partners were out of the office, because I was going to be very busy sifting and responding.
When Lou turned up at my flat, she told me all about the message she’d received in her blog email (if you need either of us, look in contacts) from a guy who said he’d been reading the blog for a while now and that he wanted to take her out for dinner. He’d attached pictures of himself and had given her a synopsis of his entire life story. She wasn’t sure what to do. I couldn’t tell her what to decide, so — here’s the point of today’s post.
We’re putting Lou’s decision to the public vote. You have twenty-four hours in which to choose whether she goes out with him. You will not be given any information about him until after the poll has ended. Click here to vote.”
~*~*~
Jodie understood Louise’s hesitation. Neither of them had ever been contacted via the blog email like that. Connor seemed like a nice guy, if the information he’d sent was to be believed, and he looked a bit dishy in the picture, if it was a real photo of him. It wasn’t the thought of him having lied or even stretched the truth about himself to get a date, which was possible ― they’d both been in that position. It was the fact that he’d read the blog that freaked Louise out most of all. He already knew all about her and had fed her information based on what he’d read.
“Lou, in all honesty, it’s a sodding miracle that he’s read the blog and still hasn’t run a mile knowing how bloody high-maintenance you are.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
Jodie stuck out her tongue.
“I don’t know why I’m so freaked out by knowing he knows all about me. It’s not like I say anything on there I would never say to someone’s face.”
That was true beyond a doubt.
“Look, you’ve gone on a date with a guy knowing less, in all honesty. What’s the harm?”
“I guess. We’ve put it to the readers, so just wait and see what they say.”
Jodie grinned. She’d never seen her friend so indecisive about a guy before.
“Enough about me. How’s the wonderful James?” Louise laughed at the blush caused by the mention of the Irishman’s name.
“He’s . . . wonderful.”
“Pathetic answer. Have you heard from him since you didn’t invite him over for ‘coffee’?”
“Yeah, he’s over in Dublin for some meetings. We’re going out next Saturday when he gets back.”
“Ooh. How many dates is that now? Three? Four?”
“Four . . . I think. I’m not keeping count.” She wasn’t. For the first time in a long time, Jodie was just taking each date as it happened. It felt good not to stress. She would be lying if she didn’t admit to hoping it would lead to something more, but she was happy to just spend time with James.
“Yeah, right. Since when?”
“Since meeting him wasn’t planned. It’s been so long since I’ve met someone without planning pretty much every aspect. Meeting James was a fluke, so there’s little to no expectation tacked onto every date.”
Louise considered what Jodie said. “That makes sense. It’s like when you’re a teenager: you met guys everywhere and never expected every single one of them to be the one and just had fun.”
“Exactly.” Jodie grinned. “So where’s he taking you?”
“I have no idea. He said to dress down.” Louise shuddered. No good ever came of a date that didn’t include heels. Or so she believed.
Chapter Seven: Next Time, Call a Decorator
Jodie was surprised to find that she missed James. They’d quickly become friends and were in almost-constant contact. This allowed them to get to know each other, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up about him. Too many times she’d done just that, and things hadn’t worked out, causing inevitable heartache to follow. Too many times she’d had to pick herself up and dust herself down to start over with Louise’s help. She didn’t want to go through that again.
The two friends had been there for each other since their early teens, having met in Secondary School. They were like chalk and cheese, but they’d managed to surprise everyone by being the perfect buffer for each other. Louise was the confident, outgoing, pretty brunette who seemed to attract all the attention from the boys, whilst Jodie was a quiet redhead. She was grateful that Louise always made her feel that she was capable of anything and supported any choices she made. Jodie tried to do the same for Louise, even after being honest with her when she didn’t agree with them. That was the makings of a good friendship . . . wasn’t it?
For the next twenty years, they met up or spoke every day. When they went away to university, they managed to meet up at least twice a month, either in Nottingham, where Louise studied English Literature, or in Manchester, where Jodie studied History. Neither of them judged the other on mistakes made under the influence of student nights or the fact that neither was using her degree. To be honest, Jodie couldn’t imagine not having Louise in her life, and any men they met had to accept them as a package deal.
~*~*~
5 August 2012- Next Time, Call a Decorator
James arrived on my doorstep on Friday with flowers and a bottle of Irish whiskey, fresh from his return to London. Reminding me that I was to dress down for our day out on Saturday, he refused my invitation inside for a drink (damn him). Apparently, it would be helpful for me to conserve energy. Yeah, that snippet of information didn’t help me to relax.
He turned up to collect me at 8a.m., causing me to almost pass out. I’d only just clambered out of the shower and hadn’t even had a cup of tea. It was lucky that he’d shown up early in case he needed to wake me up, and I still had an hour before we had to leave.
Dressing down to me means huge jogging bottoms, an out-of-shape men’s T-shirt, and big fluffy socks, but I knew that wouldn’t do. I managed to find an old pair of combat trousers, which, when teamed with a vest top and my boots, James announced were perfect before he handed me a travel mug of tea and led me out to his car.
He didn’t blindfold me or anything ridiculous like that, but he wouldn’t answer any of my questions. It was only when we’d arrived that I cottoned on. Paintballing! It was something I’d always said I wanted to try, but I knew I’d never have the bottle to sign up for it. A bit like Zumba.
It was bloody brilliant — and painful. I never expected that at all, even after watching people do it on the telly. They never quite tell you HOW MUCH it hurts, even with the breastplate women are given for extra protection. But it was all so worth it.
Remember that scene in “10 Things I Hate About You,” where Heath takes whatsername paintballing and they kiss? Well, it was nothing like that . . . there was more adrenal
ine, masks, and guns. We must have played for about three hours straight until my legs were like jelly and my body was aching. When I told James how much I hurt, he told me that he’d run me a hot bath when we got back to mine. And he did. It was wonderful. The massage that followed was even better.
We both woke up this morning covered in bruises.
~*~*~
“He stayed the fucking night?” Louise’s voice was so shrill down the phone, it caused Jodie to wince and hold the phone away from her ear.
“He did.” She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face at the memories of James kissing, teasing, and caressing her all night.
“So why am I hearing about it now via a bloody blog post?”
“Because you’ve had your phone switched off all day.” Jodie could imagine why that was. “It’s not what you think. Me and Steve are no more.”
“Oh? Why’s that? I thought you were getting on well.” Jodie was a little shocked. She had thought that Louise was willing to give the relationship with Steve a go.
“We were. He turned up at mine a little worse for wear and proceeded to call me a cock tease, and to add insult to injury, he called me a slag.” Jodie’s gasp of outrage spurred Louise on with her story. “Yeah, so after I slapped him, he told me not to bother contacting him again.”
“So, what brought all this on, then?”
Jodie hooked the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she moved around the kitchen making a cup of tea, wincing from the delicious ache in her body.
“He didn’t appreciate that I was considering going on a date with someone I didn’t know. Apparently, putting my decision to the public vote like that made me look desperate.”
“Oh, really? And you knew him so well when you met up with him. Prick.”
“Indeed. So, I’ve decided I’m not pulling out of meeting up with Connor.”
“I didn’t know you were considering it.”
“Of course I was. It’s one thing to be set up on a blind date by Theresa, but our readers want to see us find the right guys for us, so this is a different kettle of fish altogether.”
She had a point.
“Have you emailed him yet?”
“Not yet. I was hoping you’d help.”
“Wuss.” Jodie grinned.
“Of course. I’ll be over in half an hour if that’s okay.”
“When is it ever not?” They ended their call.
While she put a bottle of wine into the fridge to chill, Jodie wondered if Connor was quite sure what he was letting himself in for by asking Louise for a date.
Chapter Eight: Is ‘The Chase’ Worth It?
Jodie was like a woman possessed. She couldn’t get enough of James whenever they were in each other’s company. It was like she had regressed to a horny sixteen-year-old who needed to get as much as she could before curfew. James didn’t seem to complain much as he made the most of being desired by a woman, and he returned Jodie’s affections ― often. They both knew that the newness would wear off; it always did as the honeymoon period began to wane.
Having been with James for over six weeks caused a bit of a slump in Jodie’s posts on the blog. After all, how often could she post about a wonderful date followed by wonderful sex with the same man? Louise, on the other hand, was still searching. As envious asshe was of Jodie having found a good guy, she was over the moon for her friend. Jodie had never believed that she was desirable and that men were attracted to her. Maybe James could be the one to get her to see herself in a new light.
If Louise was honest with herself, Steve flipping out on her had hurt more than she let on to anyone. She was getting bored of always being on the lookout for the next date, and the thrill of the chase was losing its appeal. She knew she shouldn’t allow men to see her as an easy lay, but she liked sex and wasn’t afraid to enjoy it as often as possible, but even that was getting stale. She craved more.
Louise had started to think that she could have that more with Steve, especially after he’d cleared up the utter dump his flat had been. He was a decent guy, treated her well, and was good in bed. So why did she have to go and balls it up with the email? Oh yeah, ‘cause that’s what she did.
~*~
Jodie watched as Louise got herself ready for her date with David, whom she’d met through Connor the email guy when they’d realised they were better off being good friends. Her friend seemed to be going through the motions without any true enthusiasm.
“You okay, Lou?”
“Of course. Just a little nervous.” She didn’t look nervous; she looked disinterested, which was new. Louise always got excited about a first date, but this time . . . it was almost like she couldn’t be bothered and didn’t want to be going.
“You don’t seem your usual chipper self this evening.” Jodie handed over the shoes she had been asked to pull out of the wardrobe. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
“I’m fine. Bloody hell, Jode; give me a break, will you?” Louise had never snapped at Jodie like that. Jodie kept her cool as she gathered her bag and jacket to prevent any arguments starting.
“Fine. Call me when you get over yourself and have stopped chucking your toys out the pram.” Without looking back, Jodie let herself out of the flat and started on the short walk home.
~*~*~
9 September 2012- Is ‘The Chase’ Worth It?
Last night, I found I was asking myself what the point was to all the games we play when we’re dating. I mean, are all the fuss and bother worth a fumble and a possible second date that will no doubt be just as awkward as the first ― maybe even more so, as memories of what the person sitting opposite you looks like naked run through your head?
David, bless him, was lovely. Too much so, if I’m honest. I didn’t think blokes like that existed anymore, you know the kind: they hold doors open and pull out your chair. His mother should be very proud. But is it enough to have flawless manners all the time? Now and then, he must have the need to get down and dirty, even if just for one night.
If he does, it wasn’t with me, that was for sure. No, we had a nice dinner, followed by a nice chat over coffee. Then, a nice stroll (I NEVER stroll) as he walked me home. I invited him in for coffee, but he refused. He had to be up early this morning to do his volunteer work. Really? Am I being too cynical? A quick peck on the cheek, a half-hearted promise to be in touch, and I’m home alone with a cup of tea.
I couldn’t even phone Jodie to moan ‘cause I pissed her off by being a grumpy bitch. (We’ve sorted it now, but last night I knew to leave well enough alone. When Jodie’s pissed off, it’s best to let her stew for at least twelve hours. After that she’s ready to talk things over, but before . . . she’s apt to bite your head off.)
I am doubtful I’ll see David again. He was nice, but . . . yeah, nice. I need more than nice; I need someone who’s not going to put up with my crappy mood swings; someone who challenges me. We need intellectual as well as physical compatibility. I want what Jodie and James (I can’t type that without sniggering and hearing a superhero theme tune in my head) seem to have.
~*~*~
Louise read the post over to check for any spelling and grammar errors before she posted it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so down about the state of her love life. “State” was the right word. Ever since Connor had emailed her to ask her out, things had gone downhill fast.
A couple of times, she’d considered calling Steve or even showing up at his door, but she was too scared by the possibility that he’d found someone better. It was the typical case of not knowing what you’ve got until it’s gone. Looking back, she realised that she’d actually had Steve. Why else would he have gotten drunk and upset at the thought of her dating Connor? Or was she reading too much into the whole thing? She’d done that before and ended up looking like a complete fool.
“I’ve become a chick flick cliché at last,” she mumbled to herself as she pressed publish and poured herself a glass of wine. “All I need now is to bump in
to ‘the one that got away’ and his gorgeous and nubile new wife or fiancée to make things extra crappy.”
Chapter Nine: Do My High Street Bargains Offend You?
Jodie sat looking at James as he told her about his recent work trip to New York. She thought back to the date when she’d thought there’d been no spark between them. That was as far from the situation now as possible; the spark was so strong, it was almost visible. James grinned at her when he caught her watching his hands, knowing exactly where they’d been just over an hour before they’d arrived at the restaurant.
“See something you like?” he teased her without warning, catching her off guard.
“Nope, nothing.” She played nonchalant as she picked at her food. “Nothing at all.” It was obvious that he didn’t believe her.
“I’d love nothing more than to take you back to mine and worship you all night; it’s unfortunate that our guests have just arrived.” He turned away, a large smile plastered to his face.
~*~*~
20 September 2012- Do My High Street Bargains Offend You?
It’s taken me two days to write this post to prevent its being an entire post of my effing and blinding, thus offending every single reader we have. I have been pissed off since Friday evening and with good reason . . . or so I believe.
James had been in New York for a few days for work, so I was a little excited at the thought of seeing him again. In fact, I showed him just how excited I was as soon as he walked into my flat, even though we were supposed to be getting ready to go out with his friends. Eventually, we were composed enough to leave.
James’s friends were a decent bunch for the most part. The guys all flirted in a merciless, yet harmless, way with me in an effort to try and wind him up. Not once did he bite, which led me to believe it wasn’t something new, but he did lay his arm across the back of my chair and stroke the back of my neck. This did not go unnoticed, and he endured a fair bit of piss-taking for it. He didn’t care.