Lauren’s crush on Ryan is a lot for me to take in but I decide the best thing to do for now is to throw myself into the birthday celebrations. We have a lunch of bar snacks (roasted peanuts, pork scratchings and cheese and onion crisps), washed down with plenty of drinks. By mid-afternoon we’re lubricated enough to get the jukebox going, selecting anything from current hits to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ and The Beach Boys. None of us are Beyoncé (or Jay-Z in Ryan’s case) but what we lack in musical talent we make up for in enthusiasm and drunkenness. Ryan snaps away periodically, pulling me into embraces that are even more awkward now I know it’s getting to Lauren, and posting them onto Facebook.
‘Do you know what?’ I say as Ryan flings his arms around me yet again, arm and phone outstretched. ‘I doubt Ben even looks at my Facebook and definitely not yours.’
‘No,’ Ryan agrees. ‘But I know my mum looks at mine. So come here and let me stick my tongue down your throat.’
‘I don’t think so.’ I grab Ryan by the jaw as his lips lunge at me. Lauren is pretending to read something on her phone but I know she’s watching out of the corner of her eye. ‘I think that’s enough for today, don’t you?’
‘But it’s my birthday.’ Ryan, his jaw still in my hands, sticks out his bottom lip.
‘Tough luck, birthday boy.’ I release Ryan’s jaw but step away before he can try to kiss me again. Plonking myself down next to Lauren, I throw my arm around her shoulder and pull her in close to whisper in her ear. ‘Are you sure you fancy him?’ I’m still finding it hard to adjust. It’s like somebody telling you they fancy your dad. Yuck.
‘Totally,’ Lauren whispers back and we both giggle. I don’t know why I’m giggling – I’m finding this whole experience horrifying rather than amusing. ‘But don’t worry. I won’t say anything to Ryan until after the wedding.’ Lauren mimes zipping her lips and I feel guiltily relieved.
‘Why didn’t you say anything before? When he was with all those other girls?’ It’s safe to ask as Ryan is over by the jukebox, his forehead slumped against the glass as he squints at the track list.
Lauren shrugs, jostling my arm which is still flung around her. ‘It was different then. It wasn’t my best friend’s ear he had his tongue in.’
I instinctively reach up to my ear as though Ryan’s tongue is still flicking at my lobe. Ryan did indeed lick my ear earlier. And there is photographic evidence now floating around on Facebook.
‘You know I didn’t enjoy that one bit, don’t you? In fact, I’m suppressing a shudder just thinking about it.’
‘Absolutely. I fancy the pants off Ryan and even I wouldn’t find that a turn on.’
Lauren fancies the pants off Ryan. So this isn’t a little crush that will fizzle away in a matter of weeks. What a disturbing thought. I don’t want to imagine Ryan without his pants – or Lauren’s involvement in that situation.
Ryan is giggling as he returns to our table, snaking his way across the pub, but he won’t tell us why. All is revealed ten minutes later as the jukebox makes its way through Ryan’s latest song choices. The intro to Tom Jones’s ‘Delilah’ starts up, which causes Ryan to double over, clutching his stomach as he splutters and giggles.
‘Look what I found on the jukebox,’ he gasps between giggles.
Lauren and I share a look. I cock an eyebrow in an ‘are you sure you fancy this doofus?’ sort of way and Lauren lifts her shoulders while her head bobs up and down in a ‘this crush is beyond my control’ sort of way. You can tell a friendship is solid when you can communicate without words.
‘He’s had too much to drink,’ I say out loud.
‘It’ll be those birthday whiskey chasers.’ Lauren points at the shot glasses Ryan has emptied and collected on our table.
‘Let’s get him home.’
Luckily Ryan hasn’t lost the ability to walk despite tipping all that whiskey down his throat and needs only a little guidance. We help manoeuvre Ryan out of the pub, where it’s now turning dark and there’s a chill in the air. Ryan insists on grabbing a kebab on the way home but passes out on the sofa before it’s even unwrapped from the greasy paper.
‘Shall we leave him there?’ I can’t face the prospect of dragging his slumbering carcass up the stairs. ‘I’ll grab a blanket.’
When I return, Lauren has stripped Ryan down to his boxers and t-shirt.
‘Just getting some practice in,’ she says with a wicked grin. ‘Hopefully he’ll be conscience the next time I undress him.’
I drape the blanket over Ryan’s body, making sure his bare feet are covered. ‘So do you actually want to, you know, with him?’ I can’t say the words. They’re too gross when in relation to my two best friends.
‘Yes please.’ Lauren gazes down at Ryan’s prone body. For a moment I fear I’m going to puke but nothing comes up.
‘Even after seeing him spew kebab meat out of his nose?’ Lauren and I both look at the untouched kebab, remembering the incident a couple of years ago.
‘Even after seeing that.’
She does have it bad.
‘Why don’t you stay over? You can take Ryan’s bed. He doesn’t need it tonight.’
Lauren shakes her head. ‘I want the first time I spend the night in Ryan’s bed to be with him, not on my own.’ Her brow furrows. ‘Do you think he likes me back? He’s never said anything about me, has he?’
I wish I could tell Lauren that Ryan has declared his undying love for her but I can’t. He’s never mentioned her in a romantic sense.
‘Never mind. We’ll find out in a few weeks.’
‘So you’re going to go for it with him?’ I ask and Lauren nods.
‘If anything, your fake romance with Ryan has shown me how much I like him. I have to find out one way or another.’
Lauren orders a taxi, which arrives surprisingly quickly. After checking on Ryan, I turn off the lights and tiptoe upstairs to bed. It’s been a strange day. Very strange indeed and I’m not too sure if Lauren’s interest in Ryan is very weird or incredibly wonderful.
Chapter 33
Mixing Work and Pleasure
Text Message:
Ryan: I did a bad thing last night
Delilah: Do I want to know?
Ryan: Do you remember when I said the new Head of PE was a babe?
Delilah: You didn’t! Have you never heard the phrase ‘don’t poop on your own doorstep’?
Some people say you shouldn’t dip your pen in the company ink but I have to disagree. Yes, sometimes it’s bad, like when Lauren dated the bloke who cleans the windows at her solicitor’s firm and the date didn’t go too well. He ditched her halfway through a film at the cinema, claiming he was desperate for the loo, and she didn’t see or hear from him again until he turned up to clean the windows as usual (without either an explanation or apology) and now she has no choice but to watch him cleaning those windows while he whistles a happy, carefree tune every Thursday morning.
But it isn’t always bad. Look at Clara and Graham. They met at work and although Graham is as dull as a dry Ryvita, he makes Clara happy. So when Adam asks me out, I do an internal dance (I’m Beyoncé inside if not outside) and say yes. If I were starring in a musical (which I often do in my head) I’d be belting out a cheery number and swinging around lampposts right about now.
We’ve arranged to meet up on Friday evening as Adam’s nephews are staying over on Saturday. So here I am with a belly full of butterflies as I step into Sweet Street Café. On a quiet street off Woodgate’s high street, the café is bright with a rainbow pallet of plastic chairs sat at multi-coloured, patterned tables. Illustrated prints of cupcakes, ice creams and milkshakes line the walls and pink, purple and blue chalkboards display the goodies on offer. A mini black chalkboard propped up on top of the counter claims ‘A Cupcake Is Happiness With Icing On Top’. I concur.
Sweet Street Café serves only desserts and I’m ashamed to admit I had never heard of it until Adam suggested it as a meeting point. He’s already seated inside, looking extremely manly
amongst the prettiness of the café, but he stands when the tinkling bell above the door signals my arrival. The café is small with just four tables, three of which are occupied. Adam is taking up one while a trio of teenage girls take up the second and a father and daughter take up the third.
Adam leans in towards me, pecking me lightly on the cheek. Although it’s completely chaste, I can’t helping thinking ‘this is our first kiss!’ and imagining the elaborate musical number that could take place in here using the bright tables and chairs as props.
‘You found it then,’ Adam says as he sits back down in his aqua blue chair.
‘Yes. I can’t believe I didn’t know this place existed.’ I sit down opposite Adam on a candyfloss pink chair. The table is pale blue with a yellow rubber duck pattern.
‘Isaac and Luke drag me here all the time.’ Adam gives a sigh. ‘It’s such a hardship being an uncle sometimes.’ He grins at me and I find myself smiling back like a love-sick goon.
‘You spend a lot of time with your nephews, don’t you?’ From what I can gather, Adam has the boys over most weekends.
‘My sister’s on her own with them,’ Adam explains. ‘She’s a nurse and works the Saturday night shift most weekends, so I have the boys for her. I usually have them until late Sunday afternoon so she can catch up on some sleep.’
I liked Adam before but I find myself practically melting into the candyfloss chair. How sweet is that? Justin wouldn’t take care of my hamster for the weekend (if I had one) never mind my kids (ditto the hamster thing).
Adam is dreamy.
‘What are you having?’ I stretch my neck to try to get a view of the refrigerated counter at the front of the café in a bid to prevent myself from leaping into Adam’s lap and snogging the life out of him.
‘I think I’m going to have a brownie sundae. They’re the best.’ Adam’s face lights up like a kid’s on Christmas morning. Dragged here by his nephews indeed!
‘Those Rolo cupcakes look delicious.’ I look up from the refrigerated counter to the purple chalkboard, where further items are listed. ‘But jam roly-poly and custard is a classic. I think I’m going to go for that.’
‘That’s Luke’s favourite,’ Adam says as he signals that we’re ready to order.
‘The boy has good taste.’
A waitress makes her way over, taking our order for the desserts plus a couple of soft drinks.
‘Do you bring all your dates here?’ I ask as she heads into the kitchen at the back. Adam is onto something here – who could resist a man who offers a seemingly unlimited selection of desserts?
‘I haven’t been on a date in ages, actually. This is my first since my divorce.’
My eyebrows shift up my forehead. ‘You were married?’ I had no idea. In all the months we’ve been working together Adam has never mentioned an ex-wife before now. I picture my ill-fated date with William. It was weeks ago but the sound of his bitter tirade against his ex-wife is still clear.
‘I was.’ Adam places his hands on the table, entwining his fingers. I brace myself for the vitriol. ‘I’ve been separated for two years and divorced for just over a year. We’d been together since college so it’s taken a bit of getting used to, being on my own.’ Adam laughs lightly. ‘I even got myself a couple of kittens, but it isn’t the same. Not that Iggle Piggle and Nanny Plum aren’t great. What?’ Adam has noticed that I’m looking at him rather strangely. ‘Don’t you like cats?’
My lips are pressed together to supress a giggle, but a tiny one escapes as I open my mouth to speak. ‘Iggle Piggle and Nanny Plum?’
‘Ah yes. I foolishly let Isaac and Luke name the kittens.’ He shakes his head. ‘Who lets a couple of pre-schoolers name their pets? What a banana!’
‘I think it’s cute.’ Which I do. I’m also mightily relieved that Adam hasn’t launched into a tirade against his ex. Yet. ‘So what happened between you and your ex-wife?’ I know, I know. I should probably keep my trap shut but if the tirade is going to happen, I’d rather it happened now and not several weeks or months down the line when my heart is truly invested.
‘Nothing major. There was no big drama or anything. No cheating or secret gambling addictions. We just sort of drifted apart. It’d been going on for a while but neither of us wanted to face up to it. Then Jess was offered a promotion that meant moving to London. It would have been mad for her to turn it down but I couldn’t leave my sister, not when she needs me.’
‘So you split up?’
‘It was going to happen anyway. The job offer just made us face up to what had happened to us.’
‘You don’t sound bitter or anything.’ I’m not sure whether to trust the calmness that is before me. At least with William I knew where I stood.
‘There’s nothing to be bitter about. I still care about Jess but not in the way I should. And Jess feels the same.’
I wish I could feel that way about Ben, that I could sever the invisible tie that connects me to him. Adam’s way of breaking up sounds much healthier than mine. But then he wasn’t dumped. It was a mutual decision while I’d had no say at all.
‘Can I take it that you’re single too?’ Adam looks down at the rubber duck pattern. He looks almost boyish when he chances a glance at me.
‘I am.’ I feel warm inside. Adam is so interested in me! ‘Have been for a while. Almost a year.’
‘Bad breakup?’
Is it that obvious? ‘For me it was. For him, not so much.’
‘Ah.’ Adam nods knowingly. ‘The worst kind of breakup.’
I can’t help laughing at this statement. It feels good after thinking about Ben and the way it ended between us. ‘How do you know? You were with the same girl since college.’ I narrow my eyes playfully. ‘Bit of a lothario in your youth, were you?’
Adam puffs out a short blast of air from pursed lips. ‘I wish. I was having my heart broken left, right and centre.’
I reach across the table and give Adam’s hand a pat. ‘Poor Adam.’
‘It’s ok. I’m fine.’ Adam swipes under his eye, wiping away an imaginary tear. ‘I’m totally over it.’ Our drinks arrive and Adam raises his. ‘To healed hearts.’
I lift my own glass and tap it gently against Adam’s. ‘To healed hearts.’
Our date at Sweet Street Café was perfect. There was no pressure as we sat chatting over delicious desserts, no awkward silences or subtle glances at watches. It was fun and carefree and not like a first date at all. I didn’t want our evening to end but the waitress seemed keen to go home so we had little choice.
‘I wish we could go out for a drink but a late night and a hangover don’t mix well with two rowdy boys,’ Adam says as he pulls up outside Ryan’s house. ‘But next time?’ Adam looks at me, silently asking if there will be a next time, which is obviously the daftest question known to man.
I lean across and kiss Adam on the cheek. ‘Goodnight, Cinderella.’
‘One day I’ll introduce you to my darling nephews and then there’ll be none of this sass.’ Adam reaches out and takes my hand as I unbuckle my seatbelt. ‘I’ve had a really great time tonight.’
And then he kisses me. Properly, not a pally on-the-cheek job. It’s a good first date kiss; sweet like our date has been but with the promise of more to come. Hopefully soon. And the best – and most surprising – part is, I don’t think of Ben at all as Adam kisses me. Not even a teeny, tiny, fleeting thought.
‘See you on Monday,’ Adam calls through the open window when I finally wrench myself away from Adam’s lips and make my way towards Ryan’s door.
Ah, Monday. At work. We haven’t told anybody in the office that we’ve met up outside work before and we’ve kept schtum about our date so I’m not sure how we’re going to deal with that. There’s a reason they say never dip your pen in the company ink, after all.
Chapter 34
Teeny, Tiny Little Lies
Text Message:
Ryan: I got her number! I told you I would!
De
lilah: Is it real this time?
Ryan: The girl or the number?
Delilah: Both
Ryan: She is! I hope the number is too
Ryan: Oh
Delilah: Sorry. Better luck next time, eh? Fancy a pint? My treat x
It turns out I’ve been worrying for nothing. Adam and I act as we normally would at work; we’re friendly but not too friendly (I don’t stick my tongue down his throat, for example. Even though I desperately want to). We do, however, sneak off for lunch together – then we’re free to snog like a pair of hormonal teenagers and it turns out conducting such a clandestine relationship is actually a huge turn on.
The only part of the relationship I’m not too keen on is the lack of contact at the weekend. Weekends are made for nurturing relationships, especially fledgling ones like ours. We see each other every day at work but the weekend is when we should be able to really get to know each other, away from the office and the stresses that work (and Katey-Louise) brings. But it’s difficult for us. Adam has his nephews for a large chunk of the weekend and I can’t ditch my Sunday evening pub quiz ritual to spend time with him either. Nothing would raise my friends’ suspicion more than me swerving the quiz and I can’t tell them about Adam, not when I’ve asked Lauren to shelve her feelings for Ryan until after Francesca’s wedding.
‘Do you realise how hard it is being around him and not being noticed?’ she’d asked this morning as we stood freezing on the side lines of the football pitch. I hadn’t wanted to go for fear of running into Jack (the pig) but I feel so guilty about seeing Adam behind Lauren’s back that I agreed to go for her sake.
‘He notices you.’ I pointed out Ryan, who was waving at us from across the pitch.
‘Yes, as a mate.’ Lauren gave a sad little wave back, which heaped on yet more guilt. As much as I miss Adam at the weekends, at least I know how he feels about me and I don’t have to keep my own feelings locked up inside.
Grabbing my phone now, I send Adam a quick message, asking what he and the boys are up to. It isn’t the same as actually seeing him, but it’s the best I can hope for under the circumstances.
The Wedding Date Page 22
