CHAPTER THREE #2
That was true. The latest episode of Temptation Hotel had dropped, and Laura and I had a long-standing tradition of watching it together – Anna too, but her appearances had been growing rarer and rarer lately, now work was so busy.
It was the kind of reality TV that left you a little dumber than when you first started it, but there was something so addictive about watching other people’s love lives implode.
But Laura was like a hound. ‘I’m not hitting play until you tell me who –’
Ping. Ping. Ping.
My twin had the biggest grin on her face. ‘You’re messaging a guy on Butterflies, aren’t you?’
‘No.’
It was a stupid lie.
‘You know I picked out that notification tone, don’t you?’ she said lightly.
Duh, how could you forget that little detail, Jessy?
Grabbing another slice of the pizza that was our monthly pay-day treat, Laura took a bite before asking, ‘So, what’s his name?’
‘There is no him – it’s not – there’s no one.
’ MI5 would not be calling for my skills any time soon.
The funny thing was, there really was no one.
‘You asked me to message people; I’m messaging people,’ I said firmly, grabbing the remote and hitting play myself.
‘You ask for a favour and then you interrogate me!’
‘It’s not an interrogation, it’s just a question.’ Laura rolled her eyes. ‘You know what, fine. Keep your secrets. Besides, I could just download the data from my servers.’ She waggled her eyebrows, but I knew she was just joking. She would never invade my privacy like that.
Maybe it was a consequence of being a twin and never really having things to yourself. We’d shared everything as kids – toys, clothes, even friends – and it could be stifling sometimes. We’d learnt to give each other space as we grew up. Mostly.
‘OK, now let’s see if Maddie’s finally going to tell Harry how she feels – I’ve been avoiding spoilers all day!’ Laura grinned, pushing her glasses up her nose.
I snuggled in, grateful for the chance to think about someone else’s trainwreck of a love life for the next hour.
Sunday
I stretched out my legs in Maria’s Cafe, my favourite blend in my blue coffee cup and These Exiles blaring over the speakers.
I’d introduced Maria to the band last year and she’d taken to playing their songs whenever I came in, a gesture so sweet and motherly it’d brought tears to my eyes the first time I’d realized.
I sipped the peppery fermented coffee and smiled. I wasn’t lying when I’d said Maria made the best coffee. The woman was heaven-sent.
I spent the next few hours working on a presentation for Karun. It wasn’t that I was behind on work – but I hadn’t exactly been paying attention much during the week. I was only broken out of my focus when I looked down at my coffee cup and found it empty.
Rising to join the queue behind some guy in an awful tie-dye T-shirt, I glanced at my phone as I waited for him to finish ordering.
More messages on Butterflies. None of them from Paddy.
This was ridiculous. Rejection wasn’t a big deal. OK, so I’d clearly got the vibe wrong – but still, ignoring me was just rude. I wasn’t ever going to date this guy, but I had a duty to all womankind to improve this man before I dropped him back in the sea.
I steeled myself and tapped out a short message into the chat as the guy in front stepped to the left, waiting for his order to be made.
Maria’s wrinkled face broke out into a smile when she saw me, her glasses on a gold chain glittering in the afternoon sun. ‘Jessy! Same again?’
‘Thanks, Maria,’ I said gratefully as I hit send. Satisfied, I put my phone away.
Jessy
Ghosting is a really shitty move
Ping.
Weird. That sounded exactly like the Butterflies chime. Dread pooled in my stomach – what if one of my awful matches was in here? Oh, please not the golf guy …
For the first time, I looked around the cafe properly. My eyes found themselves drawn to my left, where that guy was standing –
There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t get a good look without seeming like a weirdo. He had a cap pulled down low, hiding most of his face, attention downcast as he flicked through something on his phone.
I really hoped this wasn’t Dan … or Jason … or … shit, if it was golfing bro I was going to have to throw myself out the window.
‘Order for Paddy – grapefruit cold brew?’ Maria called.
My jaw dropped.
It couldn’t be.
I felt my heartbeat pick up. There had to be more than one Paddy in a city this big. It had to be a fairly common name, right … right?
My thoughts spiralled as I watched him look up to grab his coffee. As the shop lights revealed more of his face, my world spun again.
Patrick Tetlow.
The lead singer of These Exiles and last year’s world’s sexiest man was ordering coffee in my favourite place.
Patrick Tetlow was standing less than a metre away from me and – fuck – he was hot. Even hotter in real life. My stomach churned. Seriously, social media pics did not do him justice. Laura and Anna were going to freak out when I told them. How long had we complained about never spotting any celebs?
I tried to get my facial expressions back under control and behave like an actual human woman.
Be normal, you weirdo. No one else in the coffee shop seemed to be affected by the presence of a bona fide celebrity, and I wasn’t going to be the one to embarrass myself.
I tried to act nonchalant as the Patrick Tetlow turned back around, heading towards the exit as he tapped on his phone.
Ping.
Almost without thinking, I pulled out my phone and unlocked it.
Paddy
Sorry, things are just a bit complicated right now
Yeah, right – I could not give less of a fuck about whatever excuses Paddy wanted to give when the man of my dreams was about to walk past me.
I willed my eyes to look literally anywhere else, but as the singer made his way out of Maria’s, I couldn’t help but glance back. After all, when would I ever have the chance to see him again?
Damn. Even his back was beautiful.
Before I could look away again, our eyes met.
Confirmed. Best moment of my life.
A flush of heat ran through me as he held eye contact, and I swore I saw some of that heat reflecting back at me.
His eyes darted around my face before dipping down my body, taking me in fully.
I would have been flattered if the look of interest hadn’t morphed into something a lot less pleasant all of a sudden.
‘Jessy?’
Jessy? How the hell did he – and it hit me like a sledgehammer.
I’d heard the ping … just as I’d messaged Paddy. And he’d messaged – and my phone –
Paddy … as in Patrick … as in Patrick Tetlow.
A-lister, bad boy, the guy singing over the cafe speakers right now.
Fuck me.
‘Oh my God,’ I found myself saying aloud. My voice sounded funny to my own ears.
‘Shit,’ Patrick Tetlow said, his eyes widening. ‘Jessy.’
‘You’re Patrick Tetlow,’ I blurted out, like a complete idiot. ‘Patrick Tetlow. You’re –’
Oh shit. I’d been messaging the Patrick Tetlow.
I’d asked the Patrick Tetlow for a quick fuck.
And now the Patrick Tetlow was grabbing my hand – my hand! – and pulling me into one of Maria’s booths.
This was not happening. This did not happen. Not to me.
‘Jessy, look,’ Patrick was saying hurriedly, leaning close to me to keep his voice low.
His breath fluttered on my neck and that familiar heat coursed through me again. This was insane. This was Patrick Tetlow, of These Exiles. My favourite band.
And now we were curled up close in a booth in my favourite cafe as he muttered hastily under his breath.
‘– appreciate it if you didn’t post about this,’ he was saying quietly, his earnest eyes far too dazzling. I mean, a girl could fall in there and do herself some serious damage. ‘Last thing I want – I’m sure you understand –’
‘What? Yeah. Yeah, fine,’ I managed to say, a little stunned. ‘Yeah, I won’t post about this.’
Post about this? No, just dream about it, fantasize about it, be unable to stop seeing the vision of it painted on my retinas whenever I closed my eyes …
I mean, I was definitely going to tell Laura. And Anna. But that wasn’t the same thing.
Patrick’s shoulders slumped with obvious relief. ‘Great. Because I do not need this right now.’
Wow, rude. ‘No problem. I get it.’ I mean, I didn’t, but it was fine. There was no way people would even believe me. The pictures on his profile hadn’t looked anything like him. What the hell was he even doing on Butterflies?
God, Laura was going to freak.
‘OK, great. Well, I’ve got to head off –’ Patrick moved to stand, looking around at the other cafegoers before tipping his head back down at me – ‘but, thanks and … and sorry about this,’ he finished awkwardly, like he wasn’t quite sure what we he was apologizing for.
Was it for forcing a vow of silence upon me, or the ghosting I’d called him out on?
Guess I’d never know.
‘Seriously, it’s no problem. And, yeah, I’ve got to go too,’ I lied. The last thing I wanted to do was stay here and overthink everything that had just happened.
We made our way to the cafe doors, weird silence hovering between us. This was insane. Had I fallen asleep in my booth? Oh God, was I drooling?
This had to be a dream.
‘I’ve got it.’ Patrick was holding the door open. I blinked, before smiling.
‘Thank –’ I went to thank him but was assailed by shouts the instant we stepped outside.
‘Patrick – Patrick, look here!’
‘Over here, Patrick, smile –’
‘Who’s the woman, Patrick?’
‘Dating again, Patrick? Are you over Celine?’
No. No, this was not happening –
‘Patrick Tetlow, new girlfriend? Smile for the front page!’
And my vision was blinded by the camera flash.