Page 73 of Always the Bridesmaid

She has no idea how happy those words make me feel.

After the main course, we have ten minutes of uninterrupted fighter-jet action before the brownies, ice cream and popcorn arrive.

‘Sarah, you are one top gal,’ I say, greedily accepting the bowl of brownie and ice cream she hands to me.

Somehow, we manage to share the popcorn too, taking turns to dip our hands in the large bucket.

We spend the last forty minutes of the movie moaning about being full, while at the same time gripped by the completely unreal events onscreen.

At some point, relaxed, full, sleepy, the proverbial lights go out for me.

I rouse in a blur of confusion. I’ve been dreaming about things a man can’t help dreaming about when he’s lying next to a very attractive woman with whom he is madly in lust.

But when I open my eyes, that woman is still there, right beside me, albeit now under the bed covers.

The television has been turned off and the only light in the room comes from blue floor lights.

It’s enough to allow me to see the white towel dressing gown that Sarah must have placed across me when I fell asleep.

It’s enough to allow me to watch her sleep. Angelic. Peaceful. Insanely beautiful.

Her breaths are soft, whispered. Her chest hardly rises and falls. She’s almost still, like a flawless painting of a woman.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been watching her when she murmurs.

I’m definitely confused because I allow myself to hear her whisper my name from her exquisite lips.

Of course she doesn’t.

Then she stirs.

Her eyes shoot open.

She’s looking right back at me and it’s now that I realize I’ve been sporting a hard weapon under my shorts since I woke up.

Jesus!

I jump up and run into the bathroom, taking my erection to hide with me. Hoping Sarah didn’t notice.

FFS! I’m Jim Levenstein!

I lock the bathroom door behind me and now I need to take a leak but I can’t go until Captain Charlie calms the heck down.

I’m thinking about pineapples. Pineapples. Coconuts. Coconut bras. Coconut bras and grass skirts. Sarah on a Hawaiian beach in a coconut—

Damn!

Jake. I’m thinking about Jake.

There we go. Down goes Captain Charlie.

I lift up the seat and stand in front of the pot but as my wee comes, it sends a green light to my arse and now I need to break wind.

Damn my meat eating!

Please don’t, Charlie. Please don’t. Sarah’s just on the other side of that door.

The need goes off, thankfully, and I resume my—

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