Love & London: The love story 2021 needs. Heartbreakingly beautiful and hilariously funny!

by Ellie White

  "I'm sorry I spent so many years being a twat. And you don't need to worry about me meeting someone. At this point, you're stuck with me. I don't think I could live without you anymore and I most definitely don't want to live without you but we'll talk about that tomorrow," he says sincerely.

  I pull the bobble off my wrist and move to tie back my hair but, as my hands are busy trying to pull the uncooperative bundle together, I slowly start to tilt to the side. Jake catches me by my waist before I face plant his bed and the contact shocks me again. He doesn't remove his hands once I'm upright. We just stare at each other, not in a weird kind of way but more like an I-can't-bear-to-take-my-eyes-off-you kind of way.

  "I really enjoyed our date tonight, even if I did maim you and I hope you did, too. I wish I had plucked up the courage and asked you out sooner, could have avoided those crappy dates you went on," he says, leaving me wondering if I had imagined what he'd said. It's something he'd say in my dreams.

  Was tonight a real date? Is that what he said or was that a painkiller-induced hallucination?

  He's sat next to me, now, with one leg tucked under himself and the other stretched out behind me, his chest almost touching my side. I hadn't realised that my hand was resting on his thigh or that he was tracing patterns on the back of my neck with his fingertips until another shiver runs down my spine.

  "Jake?" Again, I'm hypnotised when he looks at me. "Will you kiss me?"

  "I think it's time to get some sleep," he says, letting me down gently.

  Oh, god. Did that just happen?

  "Ugh, yeah, it was stupid. I blame your eyes. Your stupid, beautiful eyes."

  "I want to, believe me, I really want to kiss you. It's taking all my self-control not to but I don't want our first kiss to be one you don't remember when you wake up. Plus, you're pretty high on morphine; it wouldn't be right for me to take advantage."

  My brain is too foggy to fully process his words. It sounded like he said he wants to kiss me.

  "Please, don't leave me alone tonight. Sleep here with me?"

  "I'd love to," he says softly. "Let me get changed."

  He helps me lay back, tucks the quilt around me and, as soon as my head hits the pillow that smells just like him, my eyes refuse to stay open any longer. The next thing I know is feeling his warm arms wrap around me and his lips press to the side of my neck as I sigh and relax into his embrace, my body melting into his as he holds me tight.

  I've spent so long trying to stop myself falling for Jake that I hadn't realised I already had. What was an innocent crush feels like so much more and I'm scared that I'll not be able to go back if things go wrong.

  My worries are long forgotten when I feel him pulling me in close as he buries his face into my neck again. He kisses me gently along my shoulder before I feel his head settle onto the pillow next to mine

  "Goodnight, Maggie," is the last thing I hear before I give in to unconsciousness.

  ***

  I wake up to bright sunshine streaming in through the large, familiar window. Sitting up to take a better look around, I'm greeted with a sharp pain in my foot.

  Right, my fractured foot.

  My brain is foggy as I look around the room and struggle to put everything together in my mind. The bed is soft and comfortable, the dark quilt still wrapped around me. I feel safe and warm.

  Hang on, what am I wearing? Did I get changed? I can't read the writing upside-down but I think its Jake’s crazy golf T-shirt.

  All at once, my memories return although they're still a little blurry.

  Oh, god. Jake.

  Oh, I'm so stupid. Why did I ask him to kiss me? Obviously, he was going to reject me. I look around the floor but can't seem to locate my stupid boot or crutches.

  Memories of him undressing me. Oh, sweet Jesus. At least I had on a nice bra and a decent pair of knickers that was halfway between slutty and classy. They didn't match or anything - I wasn't that put together - but at least they weren't grey.

  Thank god Laura had added a bikini wax and pedicure to our appointment last week; the alternative would have been mortifying.

  This... Well, this is just extremely embarrassing.

  I stand and try to hop to the door to find Jake so I can apologise for being an embarrassment but, instead, I wobble and catch myself on the floor in some sort of downward dog yoga pose with a thud and a squeal.

  Ow. That hurt like hell.

  "Shit, Maggs. Are you okay? You should have shouted," he says as he runs into his bedroom to help pick me up off the floor. Again. He sits me on the end of the bed, looking relieved that (at least, this time) he wasn't responsible for my fall.

  "Yeah, I'm fine... Just want to find my boot. I should really ring a taxi and go die of embarrassment at home," I say, not meeting his eyes. "What time is it?"

  "It's just after 2 pm. Don't go just yet. I made you some breakfast. Well, lunch. Waffles and pancakes. I was about to come and wake you up," he says as he bends down with my boot to put it on me and handing me two crutches.

  "Oh, right. Thanks," I say, not knowing what else to say but feeling extremely nervous and embarrassed in equal measure.

  "Do you, uh... Remember much? From last night? I honestly don't think I've seen anyone get so high from such a small dose of morphine." He grins, teasing me as he shoves his hands in his jean’s pockets. I want nothing more to return his grin and forget about everything but I just keep replaying the moment I begged him to kiss me in my head and the moment he politely said ‘no’.

  Stupid.

  "Sadly for my ego, I remember most of it. It was the morphine talking so don't feel guilty about your rejection. Obviously, it was crazy that you and I would - You know…" I say, trying to dismiss the fact that I was deadly serious when I asked him to kiss me. The last thing we need is awkwardness.

  "Oh... Right," he says, echoing my earlier statement. "Well, come and get some food. You must be starved. You haven't eaten since our food last night."

  "In fairness, we probably ate a week’s worth of calories in one go. But yes, I'm starving," I reply.

  "You want some help?" he asks.

  "No, I should really get some practice using these things," I say as I struggle to coordinate my crutches and hopping.

  I clumsily follow him out into the kitchen dining area and, when he sees me struggle, he guides me with his arm around my waist. There's that tingling sensation again.

  "It might take some getting used to but we can practice today," he says when we reach his breakfast bar where he has stacks of pancakes and waffles surrounded by bowls of fresh fruit and a big jar of Nutella. He helps me take a seat on the high stool before taking a seat opposite me.

  I'm painfully aware I only have his T-shirt and my knickers on. At least, the T-shirt covers most of my modesty.

  "This is incredible. I knew you could cook, obviously, but I didn't know you could make pancakes and waffles like this. Don't let Laura know; she'll be out for blood."

  "Mum taught me. She loves pancakes but, like you've said in the past, I'm a mummy's boy so who knows if they're actually good or not?"

  "Yep, this is incredible," I say as I chew my way through a large bite of waffle, Nutella and strawberries. "Seriously. I could eat this all day every day and not get bored."

  He laughs his throaty laugh and starts to load his own plate up.

  "I owe you a massive apology and I should have said this weeks ago, it's at least a decade late. I judged you and I got it all wrong."

  "You're surprised I'm not an arrogant, obnoxious womaniser?" he asks, grinning at me and repeating the words I threw in his face not long ago.

  "Not anymore. I remembered the kind of man you were that first night and last night was perfect, aside from the broken foot. I'm just sorry I never took a moment to remember the man you are, instead of avoiding the man I thought you were for such a long time."

  "It's not your fault, Maggie. If anyone should get the blame, it's me. I spent three years pushing you away t
hen, when I realised what I'd lost, I acted like a twat to get your attention. I'm not saying that some of the stuff wasn't true but it was exaggerated and embellished whenever you were around. I don't think there were half as many women as I'd have you believe. I didn't know what else to do. After Philip died, you would only talk to me when you were pissed off at me or berating me over something so I kept it going. I didn't know how else to get you to talk to me again."

  "You went on like that because you wanted to talk to me? Why didn't you just - I don't know - talk to me like a normal human being?" I laugh. "I missed you, the old you who used to sit and play on my brother’s Xbox and eat all of Mum's posh biscuits. I missed the boy who would pick us up in his little, silver Saxo with his leather jacket and drive us around wherever we needed to go."

  "I didn't know how to talk to you because you weren't the same person anymore either. You had grown up; you weren't the girl I pushed away. You were older and I was intimidated. You are easily the smartest and the kindest person I know; you're loyal, funny and you're drop dead gorgeous. Add them all together and I was nervous."

  I can feel the blush warming my face like it has so many times with him.

  "Well, I'm glad we're friends again. I'd never have gotten this cool boot if we weren't," I say, laughing again to ease the sexual tension that surrounds us.

  "I'm really, really sorry for what happened to your foot. I'm hoping you'll let me make it up to you."

  "You could start by driving me home? And then to my parents’ house for James' birthday party? I know you don't normally come to those things and they're usually rubbish but I've got a feeling this time will be different. If you come, that is. Mum might even try her hand at pyrotechnics again."

  "If you're sure you want me to come, I'll be there. I can't wait to see you explain that to your mum," he smirks, pointing at my boot.

  "I'd be pretty scared, if I were you. If she finds out it was your fault that her darling daughter was maimed, she'll be calling for your head on a stake."

  "Shit. Didn't think of that. I'll just use you as a human shield; it's not like you can move very fast," he says playfully.

  "I suppose it is in my best interest to protect you. I'd very much like to keep you around. For professional purposes, obviously."

  "Is that the only reason? Professional purposes?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

  "I like having you around," I say, wary of my words. He is way too suggestive this morning and it's actually going to be the death of me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  After we’d finished our food and watched a little TV, Jake drove me home to get changed for James' party. I felt extremely lazy, driving two streets over but, at the same time, I couldn't face walking it with my crutches. I have terrible balance at the best of times, never mind hopping while simultaneously trying to use two metal poles to keep me upright. I'm glad I have Jake to hold on to me while I attempt to get used to them.

  Showering was another challenge. Luckily, I have a walk-in shower and didn't need any help getting in. Jake lazed on my bed, watching TV and, when I was securely wrapped in my towel once more, he helped me back into my bedroom and sat me at my dressing table. My good leg was starting to ache from taking all my weight for most of the day.

  I'm not sure how I'll manage overnight without him being here to help me move around. Maybe, if I have enough to drink, I'll have enough Dutch courage to ask him to stay with me without feeling desperate for his company.

  I try to put the mortifying experience to the back of my mind while we are in close proximity in my small bedroom. Just me, Jake and the huge elephant squashed in here with us. I catch him looking at me a couple of times and he looks like he is about to say something. On more than one occasion, he thinks better of it and even excuses himself to get us a drink from the fridge to avoid my quizzical gaze.

  Once I'm ready, he drives us to Mum and Dad's house in Kingston-upon-Thames. There has been a shift between us today and I know it's because of my stupid remarks last night. First, I make him think that I thought we were on a date and then I tried to get him to kiss me. God knows what else my morphine induced brain made me say to him.

  ***

  "Jacob, dear, I wasn't expecting you. What a lovely surpr-," Mum cuts off, her face changing from delight at the sight of Jake's arm hugging me tightly to his side to absolute terror as she spots my foot. "Maggie, my sweet baby girl! What happened to you?" she cries out, running towards me and I brace myself for impact.

  "Mum, it's fine, honestly," I say as she attempts to hug me but doesn't quite know where is best for her to stand.

  "I'm afraid I swept your daughter off her feet," Jake says, raising his eyebrows at me in amusement at his own joke. "Get it?"

  I roll my eyes at him with a smile, letting him know that he's funny but also being a knob.

  "More like twirled me off my feet, resulting in my fall from a three-foot-high stage."

  Mum looks at Jake in horror. "I saw the video on The Facebook. Your brother took great delight in showing me when he got here but I didn't realise you were hurt. If I had known, I certainly wouldn't have laughed at it. You should have called me. I hate to think of you all alone in that flat, struggling."

  "Mum, I was fine. I stayed with Jake. Anyway, it's just a fracture. Honestly, it looks worse than it is with the boot." She looks at me with a wide grin, then looks to Jake and back to me.

  Should have kept my mouth shut.

  "And I've told you a thousand times, it's Facebook not The Facebook. You don't need the ‘the'… Hang on, what video on Facebook?"

  Ignoring me, she indicates for Jake to usher me up the garden path and straight into the living room.

  "Come on in, sweetheart, we'll find you a comfy seat." I roll my eyes to Jake as she walks in front of me, mumbling something about the dangers of karaoke and me finally ‘seeing sense’. Not too sure what that's about but I'm sure she'll bring it up before the night is through.

  As soon as we walk through the door, Mum’s off, hunting for something in the storage seat below the bay window. I learnt a long time ago not to ask questions or poke the beast when she's like this. I just let it happen, smile and nod when required.

  "Kev, come and see your poor daughter," Mum shouts through the house. Somehow, he heard her and wanders into the room. Dad hugs and kisses me before shaking Jake's hand, his gaze narrowing on the hand that is clutching onto me. Dad eyes him up with suspicion before following Mum into the other room. How much more embarrassment can I take?

  I spoke too soon.

  "Well, if it's not Sandy and Danny themselves. Nice accessories," my brother taunts me, pointing at my boot and crutch before turning to his best friend. "Didn't know you were coming, Jake? When I asked you a few weeks back, you said you'd rather stick pins in your eyes. Someone persuade you otherwise?"

  "I may have a broken foot but that doesn't mean I can't give you a dead arm, James," I threaten.

  "She'll have to catch me first," he says, pulling Jake in for a manly hug, back clap thing like they do. My brother knows me well and he jumps just out of my grasp at the last second before my knuckle had a chance to hit a nerve in his arm.

  "What video is mum on about?" I ask my brother accusingly "Apparently, you know something I don't."

  "It's all over the internet. I'm surprised you haven't seen it. You're viral, sis. Lad Bible, Uni Lad, even Buzzfeed have shared it."

  He hands me his phone as I watch in horror. We look so happy, smiling and laughing, and we dance much closer than I remember. And then, it happens. I spin, I squeal and then thump. I hit the deck.

  And it's on the internet for the world to see.

  "Oh my god, did you know?" I glare at a guilty Jake.

  "Yeah, it was up by the time we got to the hospital but I didn't want to tell you when you were high on morphine because, well, you were crying at every slight thing. You're scary as hell when you're mad and sober so I chickened out and hoped no-one would say anything," he says, lo
oking to my brother for protection as if I wouldn't hurt the both of them.

  "‘Oh, people are drunk, they won't remember us’," I say in a mock impression of Jake. "You forgot about the bloody internet!"

  "Look, you were great, everyone loved you. You even got a standing ovation."

  "They were trying to get a better look at me on the bloody floor."

  "Now, now, don't argue. You're only on day one. It's a bit early for your first lovers’ tiff," my brother jokes. I don't have time to hurl any other insults at him as Mum comes back into the room so I settle for throwing one of mum's little scatter cushions at him instead.

  "So, how long have you been sleeping with my daughter," Mum asks Jake as she pads the love seat with multiple cushions to prop me up.

  Jake doesn't reply. Instead, he chokes on air, sending my brother into a fit of laughter.

  "Mum!"

  My brother just laughs harder.

  "You can't just ask someone that. And nothing is going on between us. We're friends, like we have been for thirty years." If my face goes lobster red one more time today, I fear it'll stay that way.

  "I can assure you, my intentions with your daughter are honourable," he says, laughing as he sits on the arm of the love seat with his arm draped around my shoulder. It's not helping our argument.

  I don't bother telling him that he could sit on the love seat with me - there is room - although Mum would probably combust if he moved any closer.

  "Can we talk about something else, please?"

  "Don't be so immature, Maggie. There is no shame in sex. I was young once. Women have needs that need to be met and you've been alone for quite some time. No matter how old you are, nothing is better for stress. It'll keep you young, endorphins or something. Your father and I have been taking a class. 'Sex with someone you trust and care for releases endorphins. Endorphins are good'," she quotes as I die inside at the thought of my parents doing it at their age.

  "A sex class? Yeah, I'm going to be sick," my brother says as he dry heaves.