Page 40 of Fundamentals in Flirting

“What?”

“I need you. I can’t go back without you. Please.” Desperation had turned his voice high-pitched, whiny.

“Why?”

There had to be a reason that he had resorted to begging. Had he really realised that he couldn’t live without me? Had it taken me leaving for him to decide I was the love of his life? Surely not.

Jonathan glanced at Teddy again, and then back to me.

“I’ve realised how much I miss you, and how stupid I was. Losing you is the worst thing that has ever happened to me – I want you to know that.”

Gathering his cup from the table where he’d put it, his movements suddenly less sure, he rinsed it in the sink, before heading towards the door.

“I really do love you, Hannah. Please just give it some thought.”

And with that he slipped through the door, closing it quietly behind him and leaving a vacuum of weird silence and confusion in his wake.

I slumped into a chair while Teddy checked the stairwell to make sure he’d left, locking the bottom door and returning to my flat a little cautiously.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a monumental dickhead, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” I was tired. The confrontation and the piled-on emotions had battered me. Jonathan’s declaration had hit me like a cricket bat to the head. “Help yourself to a shower.”

“Thanks.” Teddy knelt down in front of me. “Easy for me to say, but don’t let him get to you. Do the right thing for you, whatever that might be. Your happiness is important, Hannah.”

His expression was sincere, eyes clear and bright. There was no hint of mocking me, no flinching away in disgust.

“Why are you being so nice to me, Ted?”

“I like you. Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

“You didn’t like me in school, and you definitely weren’t nice to me then. What’s changed?”

I was in self-destruct mode now, confused and unsure, poking at a wound and allowing my feelings to fester into something even more unpleasant. Pushing and challenging, coating myself in spikes to ensure I didn’t get hurt again.

“I’ve always liked you. But I don’t think you liked me very much when we were teenagers. I’m hoping that might be changing?” His voice was hopeful, vulnerable.

“Why? Because you’re playing this flirting game with me? I suppose you’ve never had a woman that it doesn’t work on,” I said sourly.

“It’s not a game, Hannah. I’m genuinely trying to get to know you again, to show you that I’m not the hopeless idiot you seem to think I am.”

“Why?”

Teddy shook his head in exasperation. “Because Ireallylike you, hard as you seem to find it to believe.”

Realisation dawned. His flirting had a wider purpose…

Oh God, this is really bad.

“You actually do want to sleep with me?”

“Well, the thought has crossed my mind a few times, yes, but that’s not all I want.”

Of course. I had wounded his Casanova’s pride by not falling into his arms in a gooey mess of fluttering eyelashes, by not leaping into bed with him just because he flashed me a smile or two. Despite the temptation he presented, despite the fact that he was quite possibly the most attractive man I’d ever seen, and despite the memory of the rugby club snog that lived rent-free in my head, there was no way I was doing this. No way I was going there. Because I knew once he’d scratched that particular itch, I would be dropped and he’d move on to his next conquest. Challenge conquered. Ego (and other things) stroked and satisfied. But I would be left feeling used, discarded like a piece of litter once more. Wrecked for anyone else ever again.

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