Page 1 of The Worst Guy Ever
Prologue
Itwasonlyamatter of time before I crossed paths with Rob Morgan, a.k.a. the worst guy ever.
It all started when my best friend, Kara, fell in love with Rob’s best friend, Luke. Soon our cherished girls’ nights and their, whatever-it-is-boys-do, became mutual Sunday brunches. The sort of occasions that float on for hours and end with you collapsing into bed with a full tummy, a fuller heart, and a slightly spinny head. Luke’s an excellent cook, Kara is a generous host, and these brunches would be perfect if not for the presence of one utter loser.
I knew of Rob’s reputation, of course. When I first met Luke, I’d begged him to introduce me to his single mates. That’s when he told me all about Rob, the serial dater who takes commitment as seriously as I do. Which is not at all. I know full well that men are good for one thing only, and that thing is their penises.
Luke had invited us all to get to know each other over a Sunday roast, and I’m not one to turn down a free lunch, especially where potatoes are involved. I’d actually been looking forward to it, untilheturned up. It would be nice to say I look back on our first meeting with fondness, but the truth is that Rob has been a harbinger of hassle ever since that day.
In Luke’s home, where Kara was spending more and more of her time, I arrived to find a beautiful table, laid with perfectly mismatched tableware, mood lighting, and crisp white linen napkins embroidered with‘please leave by nine x’.
As an interior designer, this stuff comes effortlessly to Kara. My brain doesn’t work that way. In the advertising world,‘effortlessly beautiful’takes months of planning. We research and focus-group everything to within an inch of its life, until any semblance of creative spontaneity has been stripped away. Unfortunately, this means what other people fawn over, I see as overpriced and destined for a skip as soon as the creative execution is in the bag.
Kara and Luke sat on one side, unable to keep their hands and soppy eyes off each other. They were constantly touching each other in those early days, and still are. I find it hard to believe it doesn’t get annoying. A hand on your thigh while reading, a kiss on the cheek when you’ve got a mouthful of food. All the squeezing and hugging. I swear I’ve caught them sniffing each other, the lovesick freaks.
My other best friend, Megan, filled water glasses around the table then took the seat next to me. The three of us have been friends since we were at school, and we’re closer now than ever. After graduating from university, Megan and I got a place together back in our hometown and ten years later, she’s the true love of my life.
That left the seat at the end of the table for Rob, who Luke had mentioned is often late. I was drooling at the table laden with buttery greens, crispy roast potatoes, and tender beef, so his tardiness had already landed him in my bad books.
I heard him before I saw him, but part of me sensed him even before then. There was a shift in the atmosphere, and I held my breath in a moment of silence before he filled it with his booming voice.
“Hello, lovebirds.”
He stood behind Kara, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek with a familiarity that made me twitch.Who on earth do you think you are?That’smyfriend.
“These are for you, my darling. You look stunning as usual.” He pulled a bright bouquet from behind his back. Proper flowers, already arranged for a vase, I noted. No last-minute wilting blooms from the petrol station from this guy.
I willed myself not to look at him, but I was powerless to stop my eyes from drifting his way. From my seated position he was unspeakably tall, with broad shoulders, big arms, golden skin. He took up all the space in my vision. My eyes coasted up and down, finding dark hair and dark eyes above the wall of his chest. Dressed in a grey sweatshirt and black jeans, he was everything that gets me fired up. Solid and fuckable, and I hated him for it.
“Thank you Rob,” Kara beamed, “they’re beautiful. We’re just starting. Grab a seat and help yourself.”
I had no reason to be nervous to meet him, so I concentrated on filling my plate while he hugged Luke from behind then pulled out the seat next to me. I kept my eyes down as he scooted in underneath and made himself comfortable. Legs spread wide, nudging against mine, he took up far more space than he was entitled to. It annoyed the hell out of me, but I also secretly hoped I’d get to feel if his thighs were as muscular as I thought they might be.
I was in the middle of pushing those thoughts out of my head when he bumped my shoulder with his. I looked up, and that’s when he signed his death sentence.
“So you must be the single one?”
And then he had the nerve towink.
“Excuse me?”
“The single friend. That’s you, right?”
“I heard what you said. I just don’t know why you think it’s appropriate to make that sort of assumption about someone you’ve never met.” I don’t think I’d ever gone from breezy to bitchy so fast. Yes, I am happily single, by choice, but it’s not like I’m wearing a badge to advertise the fact. You can’t just say things like that to a stranger.
“Aren’t you Hattie? The one who doesn’t date? It can’t possibly be this sweet angel next to you.” He leaned across me, extending one hand, which Megan took politely. “You must be Megan. I’m Rob. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Nice to meet—”
“How dare you?” Why does she get a handshake and I get judgement? I slapped Megan’s hand away and Luke froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Don’t think I haven’t heard about you.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirked, resting one arm on the back of his chair. “What have you heard?”
“You’re the man-whore who has a different woman in his bed every night.”
“Hattie!” Kara gasped. “Don’t be rude.”
“Every night? Wow, if only,” Rob leaned in closer. “You want to be next?”
