Sidequest for Love

by L.H. Cosway

  “She’s very pretty,” Afric said, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I sensed there was something else she wanted to say but was holding back.

  “You think so?”

  “Anyone with a pair of eyeballs can see that she’s pretty, Neil.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I said, focusing back on the episode and worrying my lip.

  “She has that whole slim but muscular look going on. You must be really into that. Leanne has a similar body type,” she said.

  I frowned, thinking about it. “It’s not that I particularly favour it. I developed feelings for Leanne mainly based on her personality and our close friendship. The same goes for Annabelle. Our conversations are what made me start liking her.”

  “Oh,” Afric said, an odd note in her voice. “Well, that’s good to know.”

  It was? Why? I didn’t voice the question, and both our attentions quietly drifted back to the episode.

  Afric yawned softly when the end credits rolled. “I’m tempted to watch the next part, but I know I’ll only end up staying awake all night to watch the whole thing, so I should probably go to sleep.”

  “We can watch the next episode tomorrow night if you want?” I offered impulsively.

  I wasn’t sure why, but I’d really enjoyed this. Just virtually spending time with someone instead of sitting alone in my hotel room was surprisingly pleasant.

  She granted me a pleased smile. “Seriously? I’d love that. Okay, I’ll call you around the same time tomorrow. Will you be free?”

  “I should be.”

  “Great. Talk to you then.”

  “Goodnight, Afric.”

  “‘Night, Neil.”

  With that, we ended our video call, and I lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling. I had a long day of work ahead of me tomorrow, but knowing that I’d get to watch North and South with Afric at the end of it oddly made the prospect far more bearable.

  Afric

  Neil was going to murder me if he ever found out about this. Well, it was a good thing I didn’t plan on telling him. I’d followed the devil on my shoulder and decided to hell with it. I had a free afternoon, and I was going to do a little reconnaissance.

  It had been easy enough to sign up for a free pass at the gym where Annabelle worked. The trouble was, I’d had to endure a one on one with a personal trainer named Derek and explain my health and fitness goals to him. I was a little disappointed I hadn’t been assigned to Annabelle. That way, I could’ve really picked her brain.

  I’d given Derek some made-up spiel about wanting to lose a stone, and he’d drawn up a workout plan for me. He was so nice that I felt a little bit guilty for wasting his time and was actually considering joining the gym now.

  What? They had a competitive yearly rate, and to be honest, I could do with getting into shape. My sedentary lifestyle was starting to affect my ability to climb the stairs to my flat these days. Huffing and puffing up several flights of stairs was not a good look, at least not at my age.

  Once Derek released me to explore the gym on my own, I wandered from section to section until I spotted Annabelle standing with another of the personal trainers next to a row of elliptical machines.

  I took a sip from my complimentary water bottle and eyed her while stepping onto a nearby treadmill. I was too far away to hear what she was saying to her co-worker, but I didn’t want to risk getting too close and arousing suspicion. I set the treadmill to a medium speed and started a slow jog. I figured I might as well get a workout in while I was here.

  After a few minutes, two middle-aged women entered the elliptical area, each climbing onto a machine. They chatted as they began exercising, both a little overweight. My attention went to Annabelle as she whispered something to her co-worker, a tall, muscular guy in a sleeveless shirt that displayed his gun show, which I guess was the point.

  I narrowed my gaze, suspecting they were making fun of the two women in some way by their grins and conspiratorial whispers. Thankfully, the women were oblivious to whatever was being said about them, too busy chatting away as they exercised.

  A small brick settled in my stomach. I mean, I could’ve been wrong. Annabelle and Mr Muscles could’ve been talking about something else entirely, but my gut told me otherwise.

  I’d come here hoping to assuage my misgivings, but all I’d managed to do was make those misgivings even worse. I hadn’t known Neil long, but he was such a cutie pie, and I felt protective of him. He was my adorable little Clark Kent, and I suddenly couldn’t stand the thought of Annabelle getting her claws into him.

  I was having, shall we say, nefarious thoughts.

  Nefarious thoughts that were urging me to ensure Neil and Annabelle never met at all.

  I’d find him a nice girl. Someone worthy of him. After all, I knew lots of great gamer ladies online who would eat Neil right up like a scoop of double chocolate chip ice cream with sprinkles on top. If she didn’t live an ocean away, I might’ve even considered introducing him to Yellowshoes. My girl was beautiful and had a cracking sense of humour.

  Annabelle and Mr Muscles left, and I wound things down on the treadmill. I wiped down the machine, dabbed the sweat from my brow, and took a long gulp of water. I walked by the two ladies on the ellipticals, gave them a wink, and told them they were looking fab. They both chuckled and shook their heads at me as I headed for the showers.

  I was on the bus on my way home when two new messages came in from Neil. The first showed him standing with the Statue of Liberty behind him. The second was him on Fifth Avenue, surrounded by pedestrians, the road full of those recognisable yellow taxis.

  Looking good, I replied.

  I never realised the skill required to take a decent selfie, especially in a city as crowded as this one, he sent back.

  You’ll be a pro by the time your trip is over, I promised.

  Later that night, I ordered Thai food in preparation for my video call with Neil. I changed into my PJs and had everything set up before I sent him a text.

  Afric: I’m about to call you!

  Neil: Go ahead. I’m ready.

  I grinned as I sent through the call. Seriously, I loved this new arrangement. I enjoyed annoying him by swooning over Mr Thornton and making lewd comments about what I’d let him do to me.

  The call connected and Neil appeared on my screen. He wore a long-sleeved T-shirt, his hair a little rumpled, eyes tired. From what Michaela had told me, their work trips tended to be very demanding. Neil was likely exhausted after a long day running around after all those reality TV stars.

  “Hey!” I said. “What did you order from room service today? Inquiring minds would like to know.”

  He held up his plate to show me. “I treated myself to a steak. Callum fell off a wall this morning and almost broke his ankle. Luckily, we just needed to ice it, and the swelling went down, but he gave us a scare there for a minute.”

  “Sounds stressful. You feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.”

  “Well, I decided to delay my dinner so that we could eat together. I ordered Thai green curry.”

  “Perfect. Shall we start the episode? I’m oddly curious to see what Miss Hale and Mr Thornton get up to next,” Neil said.

  “Let’s do it,” I replied with a grin.

  We ate quietly and watched the episode for about ten minutes before I said, “You know, I have this online friend. She lives in Surrey, I think. Her name’s Alice. Pretty sure she works in IT, but she’s also a huge Greenforest gamer. She’s a redhead, too, if that’s what you’re into.”

  “If that’s what I’m …” Neil said, sounding like he’d only been half-listening. Somehow, I felt like he was even more into North and South than I was, which only caused the fondness I already felt for him to expand.

  “I just feel like you should widen your horizons,” I went on. “You know, Annabelle’s not the only woman in the world.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. I had our call minimi
zed, but I saw him run a hand down his face in the tiny square in the corner of my screen. “So, this is your angle now,” he said.

  “What angle?” I asked, feigning innocence. “I don’t have an angle.”

  “You’ve set your mind against Annabelle and are now trying to interest me in this Alice person as a distraction.”

  “Neil, I’m only looking out for you—”

  “Well, you don’t need to. I’m perfectly capable of looking out for myself.”

  “Are you, though?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I blew out a heavy breath, nerves building. I hadn’t intended on telling Neil about my visit to Annabelle’s gym, but maybe he needed to hear it. Maybe he needed a cold splash of reality. “Pause the episode for a second. I need to tell you something.”

  Neil frowned and did as I requested. I paused the episode, too, then sent him an anxious look through the screen. “What’s going on? Why do you have that weird look on your face?”

  I bit my lip, then blurted, “I did a bad thing.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Remember how I mentioned checking out Annabelle’s social media?” I asked, tucking some hair behind my ear. Neil nodded. “Well, I noticed she works at a gym that’s only a ten-minute bus journey from my flat. So, I thought I’d go check her out in person.”

  Neil stared at me, eyes wide with horror. “Please tell me you didn’t talk to her.”

  “Of course, I didn’t talk to her. I merely observed.”

  At this, he seemed to relax a little, but he still looked perturbed. “And what did you observe?”

  “Not a lot, honestly.”

  “Okay, well, please don’t ever do that again,” Neil said, exhaling in relief.

  “It’s just that—”

  Neil’s eyes flashed to mine. “What?”

  “I may have seen her and one of her co-workers making fun of two overweight women while they were working out. I’m not one-hundred percent certain, but it seemed like Annabelle was laughing at them.”

  His frown returned. “I can’t imagine Annabelle doing something like that.”

  “Yes, but you hardly know her, not in person. For all you know, she could be the one catfishing you into believing she’s a nice lady when in reality she’s the type who—"

  “Can we not talk about this until I get back to London?” Neil interrupted gruffly, and I fell silent. “I just want to enjoy watching this show with you because honestly, I’ve been looking forward to it all day. Let’s leave Annabelle out of the conversation for the time being.”

  “Oh.” I was taken aback, blinking as I asked, “You’ve really been looking forward to this all day?”

  Neil sighed again. “Yes, I have. It’s come as a great surprise to me, but I actually enjoy your company, Afric.”

  I fell silent again. I had no words, which was a rare occurrence for me. A warm, tingling sensation took up residence in my chest. Finally, I whispered, “Neil.”

  “Yes?”

  “I enjoy your company, too.” A pause. “And I’m sorry for spying on Annabelle. I won’t do it again.”

  In the small square in the corner of my screen, I saw his lips twitch in a smile. “I’m glad to hear it.” A pause. “Now, can you be quiet? I’m about to press play, and I’m sick of you talking through all the good bits.”

  I chuckled, making a show of zipping my lips before setting my empty plate aside, burrowing under the covers, and hitting play at the same moment Neil did.

  8.

  Neil

  “What?! It can’t just end there,” Afric exclaimed.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She threw her hands up into the air. “I mean, after all that longing, I thought they’d at least give us a decent sex scene. I feel like writing a strongly worded letter to the BBC.”

  “Their period dramas aren’t exactly known for having graphic sex,” I pointed out, mildly amused. Afric and I had just finished watching the final episode of North and South, and she wasn’t impressed with the ending.

  “True, but I still think it’s ridiculous that all we get is a kiss. I feel short-changed. My flatmate, Sarita, and I binge-watched Bridgerton at Christmas, and I’m telling ya, they didn’t pull any punches. Neil, your glasses would’ve fogged up at the absolute raunchiness.”

  I smiled in bemusement. “Well, sadly for you, this isn’t Bridgerton.”

  “You can say that again!”

  “You’re surprisingly worked up about this. It might’ve been just a kiss, but don’t you think it was still a very romantic one?” I asked.

  “Well, sure, it was romantic, though personally, I’ve never been big into kissing.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Seriously?”

  Afric shrugged. “It just doesn’t float my boat.”

  I was perplexed. “But … when you’re with someone, what do you do? Just … avoid their mouth?”

  “Pretty much. I mean, if push comes to shove, I’ll endure a kiss, but my preference is not to do it at all.”

  “That is so bizarre,” I said, shaking my head at her. And her lips were far too pretty not to be kissed. I pushed away the errant thought, no idea where it had come from.

  “It really isn’t. Some people don’t like chocolate cake. I don’t like kissing.”

  “So, you’ll let a man put his penis in you, but you won’t let him kiss you?” I blurted, then instantly regretted it when I saw the mischievous glint in her eye.

  “Say ‘put his penis in you’ again,” she encouraged. “That was rather sensual.”

  I felt warmth heat my cheeks. “I’m being serious. Why don’t you like kissing?” I was unexpectedly bothered by her preference, and some part of me needed to get to the bottom of it.

  “I don’t get why you’re so shocked. It really isn’t a big deal.”

  I was stumped as to the reason, too. But I simply couldn’t abide by her not liking kissing. It was one of life’s true pleasures, especially when you found someone you shared a connection with. The first kiss had the potential to be mind-blowing.

  “What about when you’re in a relationship? Do you like kissing then?” I went on.

  “I don’t do relationships. Not anymore.”

  “You don’t? But what about Dev?”

  “Dev was the last straw. I’m sick of being broken up with all the time. It’s obvious I’m just not suited to being in a couple.”

  “Just because you were dumped doesn’t mean you should completely write-off relationships,” I countered. I was no stranger to being dumped myself.

  “Right, but what if every single relationship you’d ever been in ended with your partner breaking things off, never the other way around? Whether it’s the fact that I game for a living, or I talk too much, or I don’t dress sexy enough, men get tired of me after a while and decide to move on. I’m not the sort of person people want to deal with long-term, and I honestly can’t blame them. I can be a lot sometimes. Don’t deny it because I know you thought the same thing about me when we first met. Anyway, now I just find someone to satisfy my sexual needs when the urge arises instead of getting into relationships. It’s a whole lot easier.”

  I stared at her face on the screen, then blinked. “Afric, that’s—”

  “Kinda mercenary, I know, but it suits me.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say. I was going to say that if the men you’re with don’t stick around, then that’s on them, not you. It doesn’t mean you’ll never find someone who wants to spend forever with you. It just means you need to keep looking.”

  “But looking is so time-consuming,” she complained.

  “Everything worthwhile in life is time-consuming.”

  “Well, I’d much rather spend my time at home playing computer games than going out on bad first dates and suffering through boring, stilted or awkward conversations.”

  “Okay, you have a point about first dates. I’m not a fan of them either.” I wanted to
quiz her further on her dislike of kissing, but I didn’t want to come across obsessed. And sure, random hookups could fulfil a sexual need, but what about her emotional needs? One of the biggest reasons people entered into couples was for the emotional connection and companionship. And I knew she was lying when she said she wasn’t suited to being in a couple. Obviously, it was something she longed for deep down. She wouldn’t have expressed her desire for someone to look at her how Mr Thornton looked at Margaret Hale if she didn’t. She simply wasn’t admitting it to herself.

  “I bet you’re adorable on first dates,” Afric said, distracting me from my train of thought. “Do you show up in a shirt and tie, brandishing a bunch of flowers?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with trying to make a good impression,” I said defensively because that was exactly how I showed up to first dates.

  “I wasn’t being critical. I love how smart you always look. You’re so …” she trailed off, pausing as she thought about it. “Clean.”

  I shot her an incredulous look through the screen. “Clean?”

  “Yes. It’s a compliment. You never look scruffy.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I, on the other hand, am always scruffy. And my room is always a mess. I bet your bedroom is neat as a pin.”

  It was, but I didn’t admit it. “You’re not scruffy. You’re just a little chaotic. But I like chaos. I like getting the chance to turn it into order.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to tell me. I swear you almost jizzed in your pants the first time you saw my haphazard pile of bank statements,” she said, cackling.

  My shoulders stiffened. “I did not … almost do what you just said I almost did. I merely enjoy organisation. It’s not a crime.”

  “Never said it was, Neilio. Never said it was.”

  “Please don’t start calling me Neilio.”

  “Too late. I’m already taken with it,” she replied with her usual cheeky grin. “Anyway, it’s late here, so I better log off. I was thinking of watching the first episode of Sanditon tomorrow? Care to join?”

  “Okay, but you can’t complain if there isn’t any softcore porn involved,” I said, and Afric gave another cackle.