Page 65 of Prove You Wrong

It’s not only his underwear-melting good looks that should have warned me off, although that should be a game-ender by itself. There’s his buzz cut. The tattoos. The inability to commit to a job.

He’s like the love-child of all my mum’s exes, all rolled into one perfectly built package.

What was I thinking?

I stop pacing and clutch the edge of the sink, staring into the mirror.

He’s probably been with Angel, that blonde, and every other woman at the bar.

And then he brought me here, too.

Playboy player with no scruples.

Except …

I had been listening to my instincts. When I’m with him, my heart trusts him. Not my brain, there’s nothing logical about it. But, my heart does.

My bag buzzes, my phone vibrating inside, cutting into my thoughts.

‘Can you talk?’ Josie’s voice comes down the line when I answer. She sounds funny, strained. A glance at the screen shows patchy signal.

‘Yeah.’ Why not? I’m not planning on coming out of this toilet anytime soon. And I’d appreciate my friend’s perspective.

‘It’s all echoey. Where are you? Oh no, are you still on your dinner date?’

‘Kind of.’ I pinch the bridge of my nose.‘We ended up in Bash.’

‘I’m not far from there. Wait, why are you talking to me? Go enjoy yourself.’

‘He’s just like all the others, Josie,’ I sigh, blinking away the misting in my eyes.

‘Who, Nate? Which others?’

‘My dad. Chloe’s dad. Shane. Peter.’ The reflection in the mirror shows my jaw set grimly as a resigned disappointment swarms through my head. The notches on my mum’s bedpost have decimated my confidence in relationships.

‘What happened?’

‘I’d been gone max five minutes and I came back to find him feeling up some woman with boobs the size of the Eden Project.’

‘Shit, Ella. I’m sorry.’ The line goes crackly for a moment. ‘All men suck.’

‘I’m disappointed.’ I shake my head. ‘In him. But in myself as well. I got carried away. Now I don’t know what to do.’ I give a half-hearted snort. ‘I should probably start with going home.’

‘Ella?’ Nate’s voice pipes out through a crack in the door.

I don’t hear Josie’s reply as the door swings open with a bang and the blonde stumbles into my tiled sanctuary.

‘Dee! Shit.’ Nate’s head appears around the frame, eyes furtively glancing around the room. ‘Ella — ’

‘I’ve gotta go.’ I go to hang up on Josie but the call has already disconnected.

‘Nate,’ the blonde giggles, drawing out the syllable, and swatting at his head to push him away, out of the room.

Is this for real?

Stunned, I squint in the direction of my new toilet buddy, trying to work out what the hell is happening.

‘Leave this to me.’ Miss Blonde shuts the door and turns to lean back on it.

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