Page 62 of The Best Book Boyfriend
He was so boring I made my excuses after the drink and headed home to get into my pyjamas and watch TV in bed. I didn’t even feel like reading. That’s how messed up I feel. I’d tried a few pages of my newest book but realised I was constantly picturing Luke as the love interest and had to put it down. Come to think of it, the last few books have all featured leads who remind me of Luke, too.
“Oh, Kara,” Hattie refills my glass and rubs my back. “Onwards and upwards, babes. What about that estate agent who was messaging you?”Shut up, Hattie.I want to scream. I’m beginning to regret telling the girls about dating, and I don’t want Luke to know any of this.
“Enough dating chat. Change the subject.” I can feel myself getting pissy, and I don’t want to ruin what should be a lovely lunch.
“Well, um, how has the rest of your weekend been?” Megan asks, quirking one eyebrow.I walked into that one.I glance up at Luke, who is sitting opposite me, his face completely deadpan.
“It’s been lovely, thank you. Nice and chilled.” I am a brick wall. They’re getting nothing from me.
“Well, what about Friday night? How was your birthday?” Hattie probes. “We wereso sorrywe couldn’t make it to dinner.“ Elbows on the table, she rests her chin on her interlaced fingers, wearing the smuggest grin I’ve ever seen.
As if they are going to interrogate me about this in front of Luke. If it was just the three of us, I would be happy to tell them what happened, every exquisite detail. But I can’t let on how much I enjoyed myself, or how much it meant to me, because as far as he’s concerned, he was just doing a nice thing for my birthday.
“Yeah, why was that, exactly?” I lean back and fold my arms across my chest. I’m going to catch them in this stupid lie. “Just went home and ate pizza on the sofa after you stood me up. Not my favourite birthday ever, if I’m honest.”
They both snap their heads in Luke’s direction,what the fuck?written all over their faces. He just shrugs. I assumed they’d have spoken about it afterwards, but now I’m thinking maybe not. Didn’t they text yesterday? I’m more confused than ever, getting tangled up in the threads of their collusion. “OK, I’m not doing this.”
“Doing what?” says Hattie.
“I’m not playingI know that you know that she knows that he knowsor whatever the fuck this is. I know full well that you were never coming to dinner. I know you and Luke planned for him to take me out instead. We had a lovely meal, that was it.”
When I look at him, he’s staring out of the window, his glass of -is that squash?- raised to his mouth but not actually drinking. What is he playing at? On Friday night he was all over me. I slept by his side all night for goodness sake, and now he can’t even look at me?
Except it wasn’t him, was it? I have to remember that it was Matthew, not Luke, and now I’m freaking out knowing he can act so convincingly. He can’t hide the fact that he’s embarrassed about it. If that’s how he feels, he never should have bothered in the first place.
“Oh, was that it?” Hattie asks.
“You didn’t go anywhere afterwards?” Megan looks back and forth between us.
“You tell me.” I snap. “The three of you are such good friends now, I assume you’ve already had a debrief behind my back?” The three of them look absolutely horrified, as do the customers at the table behind us.
Our lovely waitress chooses this exact awful moment to approach us for our orders and I snap at her too, picking up everyone’s menus and shoving them into her hands. “Everyone will have the beef roast. Thank you very much.”
“Perfect,” she smiles brightly, “any extra sides with that?”
“Just bring one of everything for the table, thanks.”
Megan and Hattie stare into their glasses of wine. Beside me, I see Hattie’s shoulders shaking.
“Did you even want beef?” Megs whispers from the side of her mouth, not very quietly, and we can’t take this tension any more. All four of us glance up at the same time and burst out laughing.
It’s not funny though. My face is hot and I’m right on the edge of tears. “Look, I’m sorry for shouting. I’m just feeling really overwhelmed.” You’d think my best friends would know better than anyone how I’m feeling right now. “I’m thirty and I’m single, I haven’t even had a text from Adam, and I’m tired. Clearly, I’ve turned into a miserable old crone overnight, so can you both just stop winding me up and let’s all have a nice time.”
“Fuck that guy,” says Hattie, and she tops up my wine.
We do not have a nice time. Conversation is tense, we’re all on edge, and not our usual happy, chatty selves at all. I have too much wine and call a taxi to take me home, a spiteful move that I insist on even though Luke absolutely could drive all three of us since he hasn’t had a drop to drink.
I’m exhausted and sad. It should have been a lovely afternoon. Luke was so kind to take us all out, but I’ve ruined it by behaving like a little shit. Mostly I’m upset that I’m cross with my friends, who I never argue with, and devastated that I’ve probably destroyed my friendship with Luke by a) taking things too far and b) possibly developing more than just a crush.
But then... I’ve readLove To Loathe Youat least six times. He read it on my recommendation! We both know what pancakes is code for. So if he didn’t want to have sex with me, why didn’t he stop me? Why didn’t he put me in a taxi and send me home to a Book Boyfriend and my vibrator? He can’t honestly have felt nothing.
I mean, I know he feltsomething.He was hard from the moment our lips touched. I know I’m not exactly an expert, but there’s no way you kiss someone like that and don’t feel good about it. It was so fucking good I want to cry remembering it. So why be so cold with me at lunch?
I’m giving myself a headache, so I pull ice-cream from the freezer, a spoon from the drawer, and flop onto the sofa for a night watching whatever nonsense the TV throws at me. I’ve got a mouth full of cookie dough when my phone buzzes.
Hattie:We fucked up and we’re really sorry.
Megan:It was all Luke’s idea. Not that we’re blaming him, we really thought it was a good idea too and that you’d like a date with Matthew.
