Page 9 of Asking For a Friend

I put my phone down again. When I look up, Scottie and Connor are both grinning like idiots. “What?”

“Oh, sweetie.” Connor fans his hand in front of his face. “You are so smitten.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We hardly know each other.” My face heats up. They may be just a little bit right, the wankers.

When I’m in bed, I check my phone again. Hesketh has sent me a message, telling me the bride is really drunk and is arguing with the groom. He’s added a picture of him yawning.

A warm feeling spreads through me at his easy smile and twinkling eyes. I turn my camera on and snap a picture of Flanaghan curled up on my quilt next to my thighs, type

My bed buddy

and send it to Hesketh.

He sent me the message two hours ago, just after ten o’clock. I don’t expect a reply, but my phone pings.

Oh my god! Why have you got a lion on your bed?

A photo of him shows up. Actually, it’s of his legs under a navy-and-grey quilt. And for a brief moment, it flickers up—the desire to be with him.

Oh no. I’m not going there. My stupid brain can quit talking to my dick. I need to focus on what’s best for me, and that’s taking it slowly.

Did the bride and groom kiss and make up, or did they waste 50+k?

The three dots appear and keep dancing. It looks like he’s writing another War and Peace.

I think so. It was touch and go for a moment. Not my circus.

We charge a shit-ton of money to make it look perfect.

We can’t make them behave. :p

That’s so true, but at least it’s over now. You can get some sleep.

Good night, Lando

Sleep well

xox

You too.

My fingers hover over the keys. Should I add a heart emoji? Fuck it. I like him a lot. Maybe too much, but like Scottie said, I can relax my rules, and he’s right.

<3

The screen goes blank. I put my phone on the bedside table and snuggle under the covers.

I spend Sunday doing all my household chores, listening to an audiobook while I’m hoovering and mopping the bathroom. I’ve left them for far too long again, and it seems to take forever to get them done. But by the end of the day, I have a clean and shiny house, and all my laundry is done and put away. I sit down with a glass of wine, enjoying the quiet. Hey, I haven’t heard from Hesketh today, but then I haven’t reached out to him either. Should I? It’s late, but that’s not the only reason I hesitate. No, we’re not there yet.

But what are we doing? Have the lunches been dates? Maybe. Do I want them to be? Being with him has been so different compared to my previous relationships. It has been a long time since I had a boyfriend, and I’ve changed. I no longer need to be in a relationship. But I’d like to be in one with Hesketh. He’s kind, funny, clever, and easy to talk to. Excitement for our date is brewing in my gut.

Of course, the world is against me. I wake up late, then spill tea down my T-shirt, and to top the morning off, Flanaghan has thrown up a huge hairball in the middle of the floor by the front door. Thank god I’ve already got my shoes on, as I almost stepped in the hideous mess.

“You disgusting animal. It’s not as if I don’t brush you,” I snarl at him as I mop it up. He gloats next to me. I can almost see the speech bubble over his head with ‘You work for me, and don’t you forget it.’

“Don’t push your luck. I can get a dog too. Don’t forget that.”

That’s obviously too much for him. He turns his back on me, tail high in the air, arsehole on display, and struts away. A total ‘fuck you’. Refusing to let him get the last word, I shout to him, “I’m getting you the cheapest food I can find.”

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