Chapter Five
I wake the next morning to find Ben has brought me coffee, the granules still visible, floating on top, where he’s given it only a cursory stir.
‘I can’t remember if you like coffee or tea, so I took a gamble on coffee,’ he says, wearing only his boxers. ‘And then I had to rush as I could hear Ollie and Liv waking up, talking. I had to dart out and then dart back in again,’ he continues in an excited sort of whisper.
I blink in confusion while he hurriedly hands me a coffee at the same time as I’m trying to sit up in bed.
I can’t speak, think or function much like a human before coffee.
So I just stare at Ben as he talks at me.
The first sip is always the best and, on my second, I feel the sticky granules gluing themselves to my tongue.
I grab a pen and put it in the mug, stirring until the coffee turns a uniformly smooth brown colour.
‘So how are we going to play this?’ he asks.
I’m two sips in. It’s not enough for conversation, but I attempt, ‘Play what?’
‘It occurred to me, when I was trying to make coffee as silently as possible, that you were trying your best to kick me out last night.’
As it’s not a question and my brain isn’t even in first gear yet, I don’t reply.
‘Why?’ Ben prompts.
I sip more coffee. ‘I feel as if this should be really obvious,’ I dare.
‘Afraid not,’ he replies, budging me over and sitting on the bed, facing me.
‘Are you going to make me say the words?’ I ask.
‘What words?’ he replies, perplexed.
I whisper it conspiratorially, ‘One. Night. Stand.’
He doesn’t speak, just sort of looks at me, then takes a sip of coffee. ‘Oh,’ he replies.
What kind of response is that? ‘Oh?’ I echo.
‘You want to pretend it didn’t happen.’ He’s not asking me, he’s surmising.
‘No. That’s not it at all. I just don’t …’
‘… want other people to know?’ he finishes for me. ‘Them.’ He points towards the door, in the direction of the corridor where Ollie and Liv are creeping around. I wonder if they’re having a version of this conversation too.
‘Well, yeah,’ I admit. ‘I think we should probably keep it between us, so that we don’t make things awkward.’
‘Are you ashamed?’ he asks. ‘Because I’m not.’
‘What? No.’
‘So why are we pretending to other people it didn’t happen?’
‘Because it’s awkward … we’ll make things awkward, won’t we?’ I point out.
‘Will we? I won’t. I enjoy your company. You’re fun. I hope you like me too.’
‘I do.’
‘Then we can just – you know – mess around a bit here and there, if you like. Let’s not try and label anything, but let’s not shut it down immediately, either. Unless of course you really want to.’ Ben leaves that suggestion hanging there.
‘I don’t know what I want,’ I say. ‘Honestly, I thought it would be one and done, and now you’re making me coffee and being really sweet and not at all what I thought you’d be, the morning after.’
‘What did you think I’d be, the morning after?’ he asks, and his features lift a smile into place as he waits for me to put my foot in it, say something rude.
‘I thought you’d really relish leaving my room this morning, letting everyone know you got laid and that, instead of it being a walk of shame, you’d consider it more … a victory lap.’
‘A victory lap?’ Ben explodes with laughter.
‘Shh. Keep it down.’
‘Stop worrying about them,’ he says in an exasperated voice. ‘I thought you were cool, and now I’m the chill one.’
‘No, no,’ I protest, ‘I’m still cool.’
He looks at me dubiously. ‘Prove it.’
‘Prove …? How?’ I ask, never one to refuse a challenge.
‘Let’s get dressed. Let’s go and get a proper cup of coffee and some breakfast and … I’m going to hold your hand while we walk there. Deal?’
He’s so cheeky it’s hard not to smile. I sigh audibly, pretending I’m horribly put out, like this is the worst idea in the world, which it might be.
I kick the duvet off, stand up. ‘Deal.’
As predicted, Ben and I don’t make it past Ollie and Liv unscathed.
It’s Liv who catches me in the corridor, though, as I tentatively open my door.
She pauses only to glance around, check if Ben is with me.
He’s not. He’s back in his room after he snuck out, showered, dressed in his own space.
The countdown is on, though, as we’re going for breakfast in a moment.
Liv grabs me, pulls me into her room for a cosy chat. I half expect to see Ollie still in there, tucked up in her bed, but he’s long gone.
‘Oh my God,’ she stage-whispers at me after closing the door. ‘Guess what?’
I laugh, because I know.
‘I slept with Ollie,’ she says hurriedly, not waiting for me to answer.
‘I sort of guessed. We heard you come in.’
‘We?’ Liv asks immediately.
‘Ben and I – we …’
‘Ohhhh,’ Liv draws out. ‘Did you? I blame the bottles of that horrid blue drink for my madness. What’s your excuse?’
‘I blame the fact I wanted to get laid,’ I reply, none too delicately.
Liv baulks, then recovers. ‘I really like Ollie,’ she says.
‘It all happened a bit fast and I don’t want him to think I’m fast; and I’d like to, you know, keep seeing him, so what do I do, what do I say?
I don’t want him to think that was it and now it’s over, but what if he thinks that was it and now it’s over? ’
‘I don’t know,’ I answer honestly. We’ve both just shagged our flatmates. And that’s probably the worst idea ever. I’m not sure I’ve had enough coffee for this conundrum. ‘I’m in sort of the opposite situation. I can’t seem to shake Ben off.’
‘Oh,’ she says in even more surprise.
I circle back to her problem. ‘What happened this morning when you both woke up? Was it awkward?’
‘A little bit, yes,’ Liv says in her soft-spoken but now distinctly anxious voice.
‘Be honest then. Tell Ollie you don’t think it should be a one-time thing, but if he feels as if it should be, then that’s fine. This is what Ben did to me and it sort of worked, the cheeky bastard.’
‘But it’s not fine if Ollie doesn’t want to be with me,’ Liv replies, panic in her face.
‘It’ll have to be fine,’ I say pragmatically. ‘You’ll just have to suck it up. If that’s what Ollie wants. But ask him first. Be honest. Today. Ben’s taking me out for breakfast. Why don’t you see if Ollie wants to have breakfast with you. Talk to him about it then.’
Ben emerges from his room, clocks both of us and stalls. I give Liv’s arm a gentle squeeze, wish her good luck and head out for food with Ben before he even gets the chance to speak.
‘Two full English breakfasts, please, aaaand—’ Ben drawls out the word to the waitress while still perusing the menu for the drinks.
‘A glass of water and an Americano, please,’ I cut in and the waitress scribbles.
Ben chimes in with, ‘We’ll have two Mimosas too. You all right with a Mimosa?’ he asks me.
‘I have zero idea what one of those is,’ I complain.
‘It’s orange juice and champagne.’
‘Oh, a Buck’s Fizz,’ I say. ‘Yeah, why not?’
Ben laughs and the waitress leaves, casting me an expression I can’t quite place.
Ben mouths the words ‘Buck’s Fizz’ to himself with a smile and I sense I’m being judged.
We’re in The Wolseley on Piccadilly, somewhere I’ve never heard of, but Ben’s been here loads, he says.
It’s huge, very swanky, and my jeans and black vest top probably aren’t cutting it.
Ben suggested the place and it took us for ever to get here on the Tube from our outer North London campus.
I am beyond starving now. I don’t know why we didn’t just go to the café on campus or one of the ones nearby on the high road.
‘Because they’re total dives,’ Ben tells me. ‘Everywhere around campus is a total dive. And besides,’ he continues, ‘I wanted to bring you somewhere nice.’
‘That’s very sweet of you,’ I reply, as the waitress returns to bring us a bottle of still mineral water. ‘Oh, a jug of tap is fine,’ I say, but it’s too late. She’s pouring.
‘Relax,’ Ben says, obviously at home in these fine surroundings. ‘I asked you on a date, so … my treat.’
‘Date?’ I ask, a slight smile on my lips. ‘Is that what we’re doing?’
‘If you like?’
‘Don’t turn this on me,’ I protest, but I try to lighten my tone, seeing as the man’s volunteering to buy me breakfast and overpriced water. Although it’s half-eleven, so this is almost lunch.
He props his elbow on the table, rests his chin against his closed fist and watches me with humour in his eyes.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Just thinking about last night.’ He gives me a devilish look.
‘Well, don’t,’ I reply. ‘We’re in public.’
He laughs, switches position, pulls his linen napkin from the table and drapes it across his lap.
I do the same, sort of feeling I don’t really fit in here and trying to do what Ben does, when he does it.
Mum and I never eat in places like this.
We could never afford it. Nando’s is about as glam as we get, before a mum-and-daughter cinema date.
I glance around at the high ceilings, the large, low chandeliers sparkling off the many ornate mirrors dotted around.
‘We’ve kind of done this the wrong way round,’ Ben says and I return my attention to him, wondering what he sees in me, as we are so different.
Although he did outline it all last night at the bar and, in the muted glow of the restaurant, he seems to still feel it as he continues, ‘We slept together and now we’re on a date. ’
‘True,’ I say warily, but as the waitress returns with our Mimosas, looking directly at Ben and waiting for him to make eye contact with her, I’m reminded that he is very good-looking, fun, nice, willing to put himself out there and seems to like me.
I thought this would be a one-night stand, but why don’t I give Ben a chance?
Why don’t we see where this goes – if anywhere?
‘Maybe we should go back to basics,’ he suggests.
I frown. ‘Go on.’
‘You think I’m a player, don’t you?’
I open my mouth to deny it. Then I opt for honesty. ‘I thought you might be.’
‘Let me prove to you I’m not. Let me date you,’ he says with such burning, old-fashioned intensity that I think if I’d been standing, I might have swooned a little. ‘Let me date you and let’s see how easy it is to fall for me.’
‘Ben!’ I laugh.
‘You don’t think you will?’ he dares. ‘I reckon you’ll be in love with me by the time this meal’s finished.’
‘Oh my God,’ I splutter.
‘And,’ he says, trying not to laugh, but instead giving me a deadly and incredibly sexy look, ‘we’re not sleeping together again until it happens.’
I feel my face pull into a frown. ‘What?’
‘You heard me. You are going to fall in love with me and you are on sexual rations until that point.’
‘Sexual rations,’ I scoff. ‘What if you can’t hold out that long? Or what if you lose interest.’
‘I won’t,’ he replies.
I sit back and look at him, wondering what is happening here. Something fun, but something serious. Something serious is happening and I have no idea how.
‘Ben,’ I say, trying to lighten the tone, ‘let’s just dial it back a bit – go slow.’
‘That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,’ he says.
‘I can’t tell if you’re taking the piss?’
‘I’m not,’ he answers, shaking his head. ‘I sort of regret how fast we slept together. I like you. You like me, right?’
I think about this for a second, but realise I do. I do like Ben. I nod, unwilling to give more away just yet.
‘Good. Then where’s the hurry?’
He sits back and the waitress appears, carrying our very delicate-looking fry-ups. These aren’t the kind of fry-ups I’m used to, but Ben looks very at home. The waitress is still trying to get his attention, but Ben’s oblivious, watching me, gauging my reaction.
After she’s gone I reply coolly, ‘No hurry. All right then,’ I go on, noticing this is not the first time Ben’s set me a challenge. ‘We’ll go slow. No more sex.’
‘Until you fall in love with me,’ he’s quick to point out.
‘Ugh! Fine. And what about you falling in love with me?’ I counter, because it’s my turn to set a challenge.
He smiles, says nothing for a moment. ‘OK. If we both fall in love with each other, we can sleep together.’
‘That’s not what I mean,’ I say, although I’m not sure exactly what it is I do mean.
Ben lifts his Mimosa glass, waits for me to raise mine and we clink gently. ‘To falling in love before we’re allowed to bang again.’
‘Oh, bloody hell,’ I say in despair because that is the weirdest toast ever.
But Ben’s already laughing and there’s a part of me that regrets the challenge, because I quite enjoyed sleeping with him.
And that’s probably not going to happen again, as I’m definitely not going to fall in love with him.