Chapter 10 #2
‘It’s fine,’ I reassured her, coming to her rescue.
I must have said it’s fine and I’m fine a thousand times since the accident.
Never have I said something so often that I didn’t mean.
But when people ask, they don’t really want an answer.
Not the real one, anyway. ‘I’m so happy for you and Matt, honestly – you deserve each other.
’ Alyssa grasped my hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.
‘So, Al, when are you and Matt going to start trying? Is a honeymoon baby on the cards?’ trilled a blonde-haired woman whose bright pink sash told me she was one of Alyssa’s bridesmaids.
All the other women joined in, their excited murmurs like a pack of cooing hens.
I bristled slightly at the blatant assumption.
And from a woman at that. One who I’d bet all ￡207 in my bank account had felt the pressure of such assumptions herself, but who, now that she’d ticked the wife and mother boxes – judging by her nuclear family WhatsApp picture – had somehow forgotten the pain and stress such throwaway comments could cause.
It’s like you turn 30 and immediately morph into the bloody crocodile from Peter Pan.
Tick, tick, tick. I grabbed a tequila shot from the tray in front of me and knocked it back, shoving a lime wedge in my mouth to stop myself from saying something I might regret.
‘We’re not in a huge rush. I think we want to enjoy some time just the two of us first, you know?
’ Alyssa smiled, adjusting her pearl-encrusted brIDE-TO-BE sash with one hand.
Nine blinking Matts and an eyebrow-twitching Kristina all stared back at her in dumb silence, as though she’d just admitted she liked drowning puppies for fun or went round cutting off little girls’ braids with a pair of kitchen scissors.
Why do we do that? Take every casual comment or passing thought from a woman’s lips to be some giant statement for all womankind?
Like we’re all cookies cut from the same rigid mould?
‘But obviously we want kids,’ Alyssa backtracked quickly, clearly feeling the need to reassure everyone. ‘Hopefully three. Two boys and a little girl.’ There was an almost audible sigh of relief around the table, everyone’s shoulders lowering an inch or two.
‘Ooh, a mini-Alyssa, I bet she’d have your eyes,’ the woman opposite me prophesied, sparking an animated conversation about possible baby names.
I had to fake a coughing fit when someone suggested Blaze.
Kristina, apparently as uninterested in playing the hypothetical baby-name game for Matt and Alyssa’s as yet unconceived children as I was, leaned across the table.
‘Hannah, when are the strippers getting here?’ she stage-whispered, winking at Alyssa’s maid of honour.
‘I already told you, Kristina, there aren’t any strippers.’ Hannah sighed with the impatience of someone who’d already had this conversation multiple times. ‘It’s not that kind of hen do.’ Kristina looked like someone who’d just been told Santa Claus wasn’t real.
‘What?! I thought you were joking! Look, Hannah, I have not had sex for nine months. Nine longgg months ,’ Kristina hissed angrily, her knuckles white as they gripped the edge of the table.
Ha, so much for marital bliss! ‘There are only so many times a woman can read Fifty Fucking Shades of Grey , and I’ve reached my bloody limit.
I don’t think it’s too much to ask for some greased-up, muscular stranger to gyrate in my immediate vicinity for one evening! ’
‘That singer keeps looking over here, maybe you can satisfy your – needs – there?’ Hannah suggested, diverting Kristina’s attention to the stage as we all shook with laughter.
I glanced over at the raised platform, saying a silent prayer for the poor guitar-wielding musician that Kristina was now attempting to make eye contact with as she sucked suggestively from her penis straw. Wait, was that—?
Fuck. It was Luca. The guitar-wielding musician was Luca.
Christ, could this night get any worse?!
He was wearing all black – black t-shirt, black jeans with rips at the knees, black beaten-up leather jacket.
And he was looking over at our table. At me, specifically.
His dark eyebrows knitted together as he sang about broken hearts and first loves, clearly unsure whether it was me or not.
‘I’m just going to get a drink,’ I mumbled to Alyssa, slipping out of the booth.
‘Oh, we’ve got another round coming—’ she began, but I was already halfway across the dance floor. I let the crowd swallow me up, breathing a sigh of relief when I reached the bar and could no longer feel the weight of Luca’s gaze on me. I held up a hand, trying to get the bartender’s attention.
‘It is you.’
I closed my eyes, taking a long, calming breath before turning to my left.
Something told me I was going to need it.
Luca’s mouth was curled into a victorious smirk, as if we’d been playing hide and seek and he’d just won.
I watched his eyes, somehow even darker in the dim light, travel down the length of my body and back up with the speed of a seasoned pro, chasing goosebumps over my skin.
‘I’ll admit I didn’t recognise you there for a second, Thompson. You look—’ he paused, registering my I-dare-you-to-finish-that-sentence hand on hip ‘—different.’
My jaw clenched. So I looked a bit more together than all the other times he’d seen me – I’d brushed my hair for starters and yes, the clean clothes were probably also a first – but he didn’t have to be so obvious about it.
I ignored him, leaning over the bar as I tried yet again to get the bartender’s attention.
He was chatting to two women down the opposite end of the bar who kept flashing obvious looks at an oblivious Luca.
One of them whispered something to her friend and she giggled, reaching for a cocktail napkin.
Luca turned, both his elbows leaning on top of the bar. ‘I would say I’m surprised to see you here, but at this point I’m really not. You just can’t stay away from me, can you?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Trust me, this is the last place I want to be right now. Ah, finally! ’ I groaned with relief as the bartender sauntered over to us.
But instead of asking me what I wanted, he slid a napkin across the bar.
It had a phone number scrawled in the bottom right-hand corner, a lipstick kiss stamped across the top. Something told me it wasn’t for me.
‘Luca, you’ve got an admirer, mate.’ The bartender grinned, nodding his head in the direction of the two women at the opposite end of the bar, one of whom was wearing the exact shade of coral lipstick that decorated the napkin.
Luca offered them a polite smile but I noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He pocketed the napkin, confirming he was one of those.
The type of guy to accept another woman’s number whilst his girlfriend was waiting for him at home.
‘Can I get a whiskey please, Andy? Neat. And whatever my friend here’s drinking.’
I snorted at Luca calling me his friend, having half a mind to refuse his offer of a drink, but I’d probably die of thirst by the time I got served myself. ‘Gin and tonic, please. Double.’
‘I guess we should probably swap numbers,’ Luca suggested flippantly, producing his phone from his back pocket.
I snorted. ‘I have no desire to be another name in your little black book, thank you very much.’
Luca raised an eyebrow. ‘I meant for the article. You know, in case you need anything? I AirDropped my contact details to your phone, just tap to accept.’
‘Yeah, I don’t want to tap that.’
‘You sure about that?’ His bicep strained against the fabric of his t-shirt as he turned, leaning his head in his palm to better view my discomfort.
Ergh, he was seriously the worst.
‘You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was flirting with you.’
I almost choked on my drink. Joe had appeared behind Luca, leaning with his back against the bar. Something about seeing the two of them together like that, shoulder to shoulder, made my insides squirm.
‘ What the bloody hell are you doing here? ’ I hissed at him, one eye on Luca who’d leaned over to say something to the bartender.
‘Nice to see you too,’ Joe drawled, feigning offence. When I didn’t smile, he held his hands up in surrender. ‘Geez, can a guy not go for a drink on a Saturday night without his girl flying off the handle?’
‘Joe, this isn’t funny,’ I hissed with as much menace as a whisper would allow, my eyes flitting anxiously from Joe to Luca and back again.
‘Hey, I don’t make the rules, honey. If I’m here, it’s because you want me here.’
‘I do not! ’
Joe clasped his hands over his heart, one shoulder recoiling back as if he’d been shot.
‘You wound me, woman.’
I knew he was joking, just being classic Joe, but guilt swirled cold and sour in the pit of my stomach.
‘I mean, obviously I want you here, just not here , here,’ I clarified gently. ‘Anyway, you clearly need your eyes tested because he’s not flirting with me. He’s got a girlfriend. Several apparently.’
‘Who has?’ Luca turned back to face me, a cut-glass whiskey tumbler in hand.
My cheeks flushed. ‘No one,’ I said quickly. ‘What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be up there singing?’ I gestured impatiently towards the stage.
‘My set’s finished. Apparently there comes a point when people would rather listen to drunk strangers butchering cheesy hits than a paid professional.’ As if on cue, the bartender tapped his fingers atop a microphone.