Measuring Up Love

Chapter 15

A s the last one to leave work, I checked all the lights were off before locking up. After turning the key, I tried the door handle a couple of times to make sure it was indeed shut then stepped back to take another quick inventory of the building from the outside. All the windows were closed too, and all the blinds down.

Despite it being a lovely afternoon, not even the May sunshine could make our site offices appear inviting. Fortunately, I didn’t need to spend much time looking at the outdated and depressing facade. Unfortunately, the inside wasn’t much fancier either, with plain white walls, IKEA-style furniture, and the cheapest hard-wearing floor coverings. The most expensive items we had were the fireproof metal cabinets scattered around the upstairs to store important site documents. (It seemed some trees could never be saved from becoming printed paper.)

Sometimes, I did wish we had a more glamorous setting to conduct our operations from than a grim industrial estate. But not much profit can be made leasing shiny modern offices in pretty parts of city centres – like our headquarters.

Oh well … It was all temporary anyway. Who knew where any of us would end up in two years when this contract was meant to end?

As I was heading for my hatchback in the shared car park – after checking one last time that the front door was locked – I saw Adam. He was angrily kicking the front wheel of his sedan, phone in hand, cursing. But he didn’t seem to be talking to anyone as he held the device away from his ear further and further until he dropped his hand .

We hadn’t talked much since he’d tried to lecture me on how I should manage my staff. That was now three weeks ago, giving me ample time to ponder it. He may have had a point, but I’d never handled criticism too well. Reluctantly, as a compromise, I’d decided to give Jordan a few more months before letting him go.

‘Are you okay?’ I called to Adam.

‘My car won’t start,’ he shouted back. ‘I’ve been trying to call the insurance company, even a few local garages, but no one’s picking up,’ he added at a lower volume as I approached him.

‘And do you think if you keep kicking it, it will? The garages must be shut by now. Have you tried calling AA?’

‘I’m not a member.’

Trying to seem sympathetic, I nodded but thought one should always sign up for additional breakdown and recovery service cover.

I turned towards my car but felt bad leaving him there, so I looked back. ‘Do you want a lift?’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeah, no problem,’ I said. ‘I don’t have much planned for the evening.’ Apart from opening my laptop again.

Adam sat in the front passenger side and told me where exactly in North London he lived.

‘Is this a new car?’ he asked, fastening his seat belt and pushing the seat back.

I typed his address in the GPS. ‘No, I’ve had it for three years.’

He looked around the interior again as if he’d never sat in a car before.

‘It looks new,’ he said with admiration. ‘How often do you clean it?’

‘When it needs it – fortnightly or so.’

He slapped his forehead. ‘Oh my God, and I thought mine was clean,’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re a neat freak. You have OCD. I should have guessed… Your desk is always spotless, an d everything is so fricking organised on it, never a sticky note out of place. Even your files are colour-coordinated and stacked by height.’

‘I don’t have OCD. I just like things clean and tidy,’ I said, starting the engine.

He coughed under his breath which sounded like, ‘OCD.’

*

It was half past five, but we still hit rush-hour traffic, which meant our route was marked red on the satnav all the way. I usually left around six, and the good thing about leaving work late was that the roads were empty. I wasn’t sure why I’d decided to pack my things up earlier than usual today.

‘You’re not originally from London, are you?’ he asked.

‘How did you deduce that, Watson? Because I use a navigation system?’

‘In Manchester, that big guy, whatshisname, Mike, said something about you previously working together. But he told me he hadn’t left the Midlands for thirty years – until he was asked to take over from Gareth.’

I smiled at the mention of the area manager; he was such a character. ‘Morris,’ I corrected Adam. ‘And that’s right – I grew up in Nottingham.’

‘How do you find London? Any parts you like?’

‘I haven’t seen much of it, but I guess it’s alright – just another city.’

‘Are you saying you’ve never been sightseeing around the capital either?’

‘We’ve just established that.’ This small talk was starting to feel like a warm-up for a job interview.

‘How long have you lived here?’

‘Six years.’

‘Sorry, it just blows my mind,’ he said. ‘When I came here last year, the first thing I did was check out Arsenal’s stadium.’

‘Good for you. ’

‘Come on – you’ve gotta see London. I’ll show you the sights this Saturday. I’ll be your tour guide.’

He sounded keen, but I didn’t fancy being dragged around the busiest spots of the capital. ‘I’m good, thanks,’ I said.

‘Have you got anything better to do?’

‘Clean the flat, prepare for next week’s presentation…’

From the corner of my eye, I could see him pull a face.

‘I asked what better things you had to do – those don’t sound better.’

‘But I still have to do them,’ I pointed out.

‘You can do those on Sunday. I can’t imagine your flat being that messy – how big is it?’

‘It’s a studio.’

‘And it takes you a whole day to clean that?’ he asked, sounding shocked. ‘I rent a two-bed, and it takes me a morning.’

I could imagine his cleaning standards weren’t hard to achieve, but I decided not to voice my opinion.

‘Why not buy it?’ I asked. ‘And why a two-bed if you live alone?’

‘I’m not good with commitments.’

I cleared my throat. ‘You wanted to marry me.’

‘That’s different. That’s not material.’

‘I don’t see how,’ I said. ‘Buying a flat is an investment. Over the years, it can increase in value and bring you profit when you come to sell it.’

‘Why would I want to sell my flat?’

‘To get a better one? Or to get a house?’

Despite my sound reasoning, he still didn’t seem convinced.

‘Then I’d have bought a house the first time round – I don’t like moving,’ he said.

‘I’m currently in my fourth flat.’

He laughed, and our eyes met in the mirror. ‘You seem to have bigger commitment issues than me.’

‘Why do you need two rooms?’ I asked again, looking away to focus on driving.

‘For family and friends staying over. My sisters often visit me. Actually, my youngest sister is coming over next week with her family from Bristol. They’re staying for the weekend. How often do you see your family?’

‘Isabel only lives in Guildford,’ I told him, consciously implying that my sister and I frequently met up. ‘But my parents are still in Nottingham. I go up there whenever I can.’ The truth was seeing them a couple of times a year was enough for me.

‘They don’t come and visit you?’

‘They do sometimes but prefer to stay in a hotel.’

‘Here, take the left,’ he told me as we stopped at a junction.

‘Are you sure? The GPS tells me to go right.’

‘Trust me.’

‘Alright,’ I said and turned the driving wheel left.

*

‘Do you want to come up for a bit?’ Adam asked as we pulled up at his block. ‘It’s still pretty busy on the road. If you head home now, you’ll spend the whole evening sitting in traffic.’

‘Am I okay to leave the car here?’

‘Just move it behind the building. I’ve got an allocated parking space – flat fourteen.’

Although minimalistic in style, his apartment block appeared quite charming from the outside, with neatly trimmed hedges surrounding the entrance. At least it wasn’t one of those high-rise monsters that made me feel claustrophobic.

Adam didn’t give me a full tour, but based on the living room and the kitchen, his place was simply furnished and relatively well kept – unlike many homes we’d refurbished at work.

I didn’t know what to expect but was pleasantly surprised to find there were no clothes thrown about or weights stacked in the corner.

‘Do you want some food or something to drink?’

‘I’m fine,’ I replied, browsing the only shelving unit in the living room. It took up an entire wall. ‘You have a large collection of DVDs. ’

‘Yes, I like films,’ he said with a cheeky glint in his eyes. ‘I know what we should do.’ He lifted a DVD case off the top shelf. ‘Look at this, ta-da: The Matrix .’

‘Isn’t that a very long film?’

‘It’s only a couple of hours, and you said you didn’t have anything planned for tonight. We can just order a pizza and watch it.’

Why do I babble so much around him? I shouldn’t have told him I was free tonight.

‘I’m not a fan of pizza,’ I said.

His face distorted as if he’d suffered a fatal shock. ‘You don’t like pizza? I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like pizza.’

‘I didn’t say I didn’t like it… Just if I had the choice, I’d go for something else.’

‘What else?’

‘Anything else.’

‘So you don’t like pizza.’

‘Fine, I don’t like pizza.’

‘Probably because you haven’t had good pizza yet.’

I drew a deep breath and said, ‘Now, you’re going to tell me that you know a place that makes the best pizza, and you’re going to force me to try it.’

‘I do know a place that makes the best pizza, but I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to.’

I gave him a sceptical look. ‘Like you didn’t force me on a dinner date with you a few months ago.’

‘I can’t remember forcing you… You had the option to say no.’

‘If I’d said no, you’d have told everyone that we’d slept together—’

‘Come on, Evelyn – you should know me well enough by now…’

I pursed my lips in response.

‘Why are you still so upset about Cardiff?’ he asked.

‘I’m just mad at myself. I’m not the sort to get drunk to the point of passing out and sleeping with strangers. ’

‘Hey, I’m not a stranger! And we almost got married when you thought you were pregnant.’

‘I wasn’t going to marry you. Why did you offer to marry me anyway when you barely knew me?’

He seemed uneasy at my question but answered regardless. ‘I knew enough; you’re hardworking and generally fair. You have some issues, but who doesn’t? You wouldn’t be the worst woman to marry. Also, I know what it’s like being raised by one parent only – not ideal. I’m the youngest of five, and my mum died not long after I was born.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, it was ages ago,’ he said, trying to sound cheerful. ‘I’m a grown man now. Please don’t go all weird on me. So what do you want to eat?’

‘Let’s have that pizza.’

He beamed at my declaration and straight away dialled the restaurant to order delivery. Once we settled on the sofa, he started the film.

‘You’re still so straight,’ he told me a good thirty minutes into the movie. ‘Look at your posture; you’re sitting so upright. You know you can just lean against the sofa.’

I pressed myself against the backrest and asked, ‘Happy?’

‘Sweet Jesus, I’ve never seen anyone looking more uncomfortable. Just relax. Put your feet up on the table if you want.’

‘I never put my feet up,’ I said but raised my legs to stop him from moaning.

‘So how do you like the film so far?’

‘It’s good – Alice in Wonderland is my favourite book.’ He gave me a puzzled look, so I went on explaining, ‘You know the rabbit tattoo on the girl… going down the rabbit hole…’

He still stared at me with the same quizzical expression. ‘Never heard of that book.’

‘You’re messing with me.’

He smirked. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?’

‘And ruin this perfect body? ’

‘Your body isn’t that perfect.’

‘Is it not?’ he asked, sounding hurt. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

I thought for a second, allowing my eyes to explore him from head to toe. Despite his constant cravings for sugar and fizzy drinks, there didn’t seem to be an inch of fat on him. But I did manage to find something out of place. ‘Your neck is too thick,’ I said triumphantly.

‘Ouch.’

‘I guess that’s from all the working out. Your turn. Pick something on me you don’t like.’

He measured me up for a long minute.

‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ he said. ‘You’re perfect except … your hair.’

‘ My hair ? That’s not a body part.’

‘You should wear it down – it makes you look younger.’

‘How old would you say I look?’

‘Hair up, your age; probably a couple of years older because you’re always so serious. Hair down, early twenties.’

‘How do you know my age?’ I asked, unable to hide my surprise.

‘You’re twenty-nine in July. You showed me your driving licence.’

I stared at him with wide eyes. ‘Why would I do that and when?’

‘On the train to Cardiff,’ he said. ‘You wanted to see mine and compare whose photo was worse.’

‘And?’

‘You won.’

Great . What else could I have done on that night besides playing silly drunken games with him and spending his money?

‘So you’re saying I should get rid of the knitting needles? Alright,’ I said, removing the two long hairpins and combing through my hair with my fingers. ‘Better?’

‘Much. You should wear your hair like this in the office too.’

‘Tell me, how’s my scarf coming along? ’

‘I’m working on it. You’ll have it by Christmas – what do I get?’ he asked, rubbing his hands together.

‘You get to keep your job.’

He pulled a face. ‘You’re always thinking about work. Do you ever really switch off? I mean apart from when you’re not high on alcohol and meds?’

‘No, and that was one time only.’

‘Maybe I should check the medicine cabinet for tramadol and go to the off-licence to get some rosé,’ he said, rising from the sofa. ‘Hold on – I think I have some beer around.’

‘I don’t like beer, and I’m driving.’

‘It’s not Guinness. It’s lager, and I’ve got lemonade. I’ll make you a shandy. You can’t get drunk on shandy.’

Adam disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned a minute later, he was carrying two glasses full of the light-gold liquid.

After having a mouthful, I put mine on the DVD shelving unit within arm’s reach. He put his glass on the floor next to his feet. To me, it looked like a safety hazard, and I was convinced he’d soon knock it over. I wondered whether he was this irresponsible when assessing risks at work too. But I’d only heard good things about Adam – even David couldn’t fault him.

The intercom rang.

‘It’s here,’ Adam exclaimed happily.

He was so eager to get the food that he rushed to meet the delivery boy in the downstairs lobby. When he returned, he had a large flat box in his hand. I took my feet off the table, and he placed it there.

‘Can I have a knife and fork please?’ I asked as he brought two plates from the kitchen.

He laughed. ‘You need cutlery to eat pizza?’ When he realised I was being serious, his cheerfulness vanished, and he left for the kitchen again. ‘Do you use cutlery with everything?’ he asked as I chopped up my first slice.

‘Not with a sandwich – unless it’s toasted,’ I told him. I was unable to recall when I’d last eaten one, but I could still picture the gooey cheese oozing out and shuddered .

‘You mean even for, like, a hot dog?’

‘I don’t normally eat hot dogs, but yes, I guess I would.’

‘Weird.’

‘What’s weird is making your hands dirty when you don’t need to.’

‘But we’re talking about holding a piece of bread,’ he pressed. ‘How can you make your hands dirty with bread?’

‘There’s all the sauces and everything else inside that can gush out and make one’s hand sticky.’ I shivered at the thought again. ‘What are you looking at me like that for?’

He tilted his head, thinking, and asked, ‘You’re not one for giving hand jobs, are you?’

‘You’re disgusting. How did we even end up talking about this when eating?’

He shrugged, and we continued watching the film while munching on more pizza. When he finished his last slice, he turned to me again. ‘So do you like it?’

I gulped. ‘Giving hand jobs?’

‘No, the pizza.’

‘It’s not bad.’

He smiled proudly. ‘Did I not tell you it was the best pizza?’

‘Yes, you did…’ I said, forcing myself to finish the last bite on my plate. I wished a napkin was on offer, but I just licked my lips, planning to escape to the bathroom and wash my hands and face in the next five minutes.

‘You still don’t like it, do you?’

Once my tongue couldn’t find any more traces of tomato sauce, I finally faced him. ‘No, sorry.’

‘Then why have you eaten three slices?’

‘Well, you were going to raise a child with me, then you were talking about your mum passing away…’

‘I get it: you felt sorry for me.’

‘I just thought I owed you one.’

‘So you think we’re even now?’ he asked, visibly upset. ‘Eating pizza for losing a mother and raising a child? Not quite the same level, are they? ’

‘What do you want then? And don’t forget you never actually ended up raising a child with me.’

‘But I would have.’

‘We’ll never know now… But what’s your suggestion to make it even?’

‘Hmm, let me think,’ he told me, then a strange grin spread on his face.

I shook my head vehemently in protest. ‘No way.’

‘You have no idea what I’m thinking about.’

‘You’re thinking about a hand job.’

‘So I was right,’ he said, deflated. ‘You don’t like giving them.’

‘There’s no good answer to that, is there? Either way, I’m damned.’

‘Then tell me something you like.’

‘Numbers.’

‘I meant in bed.’

I squirmed on the sofa and asked, ‘Why would you want to know that?’

‘Come on, Evelyn – we’re adults; we can discuss things like sex without ulterior motives. Tell me, what would you want a man to do to you?’

‘To give me some peace and quiet.’

‘I’m genuinely interested,’ he went on. ‘Just for research purposes.’

‘What research? And why don’t you ask other women then? I’m sure Katie in the office would love to answer that question.’ Through the internal window, I’d often observed her approach Adam’s desk for a little chit-chat, though he seemed less eager to return her attention. ‘I can’t speak for everyone,’ I added.

‘Just speak for yourself – you’re my research.’

He was looking at me with an innocent expression, and I decided to satisfy his curiosity so that he’d stop nagging me.

‘I guess I want someone who knows what they’re doing.’

He frowned. ‘Have you been sleeping with guys who didn’t know what they were doing? That sounds bad . ’

‘I’m not going into specifics with you,’ I said, crossing my arms.

‘Fine, I’ll figure it out for myself…’

‘I’m not sleeping with you again if that’s what you mean.’

‘Never say never,’ he murmured, his eyes returning to the screen. ‘Hey, look: the film is over. You haven’t seen the whole movie again.’

‘It’s alright – it’s like films and I are cursed.’

‘Let’s rewind; it was only the last few minutes you missed.’

I rose from the sofa and said, ‘I’d better go now.’

But Adam stopped me before I could gather my things.

‘Have you looked outside?’ he asked. ‘There’s a hailstorm going on. You don’t want to drive in this weather. Why don’t you just stay here? I have a sofa and a guest room. You can take your pick.’

Following his gaze, I looked out the window. Unfortunately, what I saw didn’t fill me with much optimism that the weather would change in my favour anytime soon.

‘Fine, let me just grab my overnight bag from the car.’

His eyes widened in disbelief. ‘You have an overnight bag in your car?’

‘Who doesn’t?’

‘Erm… like, normal humans? Why do you have an overnight bag in your car?’

‘Just in case. I like to be prepared for all eventualities, and I do have a lot of meetings and training to stay over for,’ I told him, satisfied with my logical response.

Adam coughed – again, it sounded like ‘OCD’. ‘At least give me your car key and let me get the bag for you. You shouldn’t go out in this weather.’

‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘The weather won’t do any more harm to me than it would do to you.’

*

Outside, the storm was truly horrendous, the sunny afternoon a distant memory. A gusty wind was blowing, and I was worried that the golf-ball-sized lumps of ice still relentlessly falling would make a dent in my car or break the windshield. Starting to regret that I hadn’t accepted Adam’s offer, I quickly grabbed my bag from the boot and, holding it over my head, ran back to the building.

Upon re-entering the flat, I found the hallway now dark, but some light was coming through an open door. As I drew closer, I saw Adam putting a clean sheet on a double bed. The duvet and the pillows were still on the floor, naked, waiting to be dressed.

When he caught me peeping in, I pushed the door wider.

‘This is the guest room,’ he said, forcing a pillow into a cover and punching it, as if it had upset him. ‘Towels are in the cupboard next to the bathroom. Do you need anything else?’

I shook my head.

‘Then I’ll rewind the last bit of the film for you, and I’ll hit the shower if you don’t mind.’

‘It’s your home. You don’t need my approval.’

‘Strange – why do I always feel like I do?’ he asked more to himself than me. ‘I guess because you’re the big Boss Lady!’

I gave him a stern look.

‘Not funny anymore?’ he asked.

‘It never was.’

*

Just as I settled on the sofa with my feet up on the coffee table, the bathroom door opened, and Adam walked into the living room, wearing only a towel around his waist. Some water drops were still rolling down from his shoulder onto his firm abdomen; his hair was also wet. It appeared his drying processes weren’t as thorough as mine, or maybe he’d been sloppy on purpose, just for effect. He must have known how women reacted to his half-naked body.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked. ‘Have you not finished the film yet? It was only the last five minutes you missed. ’

‘Just tidied up a little,’ I said, finally moving my eyes to his face.

His jaw dropped after looking around the flat. ‘You cleaned my kitchen?’

‘Just gave it a quick wipe,’ I lied. In fact, I’d mopped the floor and cleaned up the crumbs in the lounge too.

‘OCD,’ he said.

‘Can you please put some clothes on?’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re not wearing any.’

‘You know I sleep naked.’

‘Please.’

He smirked. ‘Are you afraid you can’t resist my amazing body?’

‘I knew it was a bad idea to stay,’ I told him then pointed at the window. ‘Look, the hailstorm isn’t that bad anymore—’

‘Okay, I’ll put on some clothes,’ he said, defeated.

As he left the room, I let my eyes feast on the view of his back. It looked broader and more muscular than I recalled. I felt the urge to go after him and sink my nails into his smooth skin.

A few minutes later, just as the end credits rolled again, he returned, wearing a white sleeveless top and a pair of grey joggers.

‘So red pill or blue pill?’ he asked, sitting beside me again.

‘Hmm… not sure. Which one would you choose?’

‘Easy – red one of course,’ he said. ‘I want something real.’

‘Even if it means you have to rebuild your whole life?’

‘Living in a make-believe environment is no life. Technically, one’s never had a life then.’

‘But what if real life comes with a lot of pain and suffering?’

He shrugged. ‘That is life.’

‘Says the ever-optimist,’ I noted.

‘I’m a realist.’

I checked the time on my watch. ‘I should have a wash too. It’s getting late. ’

‘It’s only nine,’ he said. ‘Do you never stay up late?’

‘Ten is my limit.’

‘That’s quite boring.’

‘You think I’m boring? That’s not what the Valentine’s Day card said.’

‘No, it said work would be boring without you, not that you’re not boring,’ he replied, sounding pleased with himself. ‘But hey, let’s stay up a bit. We can watch the first Matrix sequel.’

‘I think one movie is enough for one night. It’s already a massive achievement for me to see a film in full, even if in two parts.’

‘Then let’s play a board game.’

‘A board game? That takes too long,’ I said. ‘Let me have a shower, and you can find something quick to do.’

Despite the window being slightly open and the extractor fan working hard, it was still steamy in the bathroom. A strong shower-gel scent filled the air, and the familiar smell of his cool aftershave had me picturing vivid images of wild rivers. It felt like having Adam with me in the room. The idea seemed enticing, but I quickly chased the thought away and started my bath-time routine.

*

‘I was just about to check whether you’re still alive,’ he mocked as I returned to the living room.

I settled back next to him on the sofa. ‘Have you decided what we’re doing? And what’s that?’ I asked, eyeing the two glasses in front of us.

‘Rum and Coke,’ he said. ‘I don’t have Malibu, but I found some dark rum in the cupboard.’

‘I already brushed my teeth.’

‘Oh, come on… Just one drink.’

‘I already had one drink.’

He waved it away. ‘Shandy is nothing, and you’re not driving anymore. You need to loosen up a bit. I bet you’re still thinking about work – am I right, or am I right? ’

‘I do have a couple of important meetings tomorrow. Which reminds me that I shouldn’t go to bed late.’

‘Oh, seriously, Evelyn,’ he pleaded, looking like a sad little puppy about to be shot down.

‘Alright – so what are we doing?’ I asked again, taking a sip of the drink.

‘I thought about doing an online escape game, but that would take at least an hour… And since you spent over half an hour in the bathroom, we’d risk breaking your curfew. So why don’t we just play truth or dare? Or do you have a better idea?’

I didn’t, so I said, ‘Fine, I’ll go first – truth or dare?’

‘Truth.’

‘Why did you really go to Cardiff with me?’

He didn’t even blink as his answer came swiftly. ‘Because you asked me to.’

‘That’s it? That simple?’

‘Yes. But that was more than one question,’ he said. ‘It’s my turn now. Truth or dare?’

‘Truth.’

‘Are you in love with David?’

I almost choked on my drink, spilling some on the floor. ‘What makes you think there’s anything between me and him?’ I asked, trying not to show my horror at how casually he was talking about my secret crush.

‘One would have to be blind not to notice. So is it love?’

I hesitated. ‘I fancy him – that’s all,’ I said, swallowing another mouthful of the cold carbonated mixture. Now I truly felt in need of some alcohol and had started to resent the game. ‘My turn – truth or dare?’

‘Truth.’

‘Why does it bother you that I might like someone else?’

‘You know why…’ he replied. ‘Okay, last one: truth or dare?’

‘Dare,’ I told him, hoping to end the topic of David and I.

Adam looked deep into my eyes as if trying to hypnotise me and said, ‘Kiss me. ’

‘No.’

‘Come on, Evelyn – are you afraid you’ll like it?’

‘I know I won’t.’ The truth was I’d been thinking about kissing him ever since Manchester, but why complicate things?

‘Then you might as well kiss me, and you can tell everyone what a bad kisser I am.’

‘It’s a silly game; I don’t want to play anymore.’

‘Me neither,’ he whispered and leaned close, pressing his lips against mine.

I didn’t know why I hadn’t pull away. Instead, I was tasting his lips softly, the same way he was tasting mine. The tongueless kiss went on for a good fifteen seconds before I broke it off and sprang up from my seat.

‘I’ll go to sleep now. Goodnight,’ I said and left to brush my teeth again.

But I couldn’t get the kiss out of my head. I hadn’t been with a man for over five months, and that was a night I couldn’t even remember. So for my body, it seemed even longer. And if I’d already spent a night with Adam, what was the harm in spending another one with him? He clearly wasn’t opposed to repeating our encounter. If I were to get fired or quit, at least I should have a good understanding of why.

*

When I entered his room, Adam was sitting up in the bed, leaning against the headboard, with a book in his hand.

‘Are you lost?’ he asked. ‘The guest room is the next one.’

He laid the book on the duvet over his lap, with the cover facing upwards. It was Assassin’s Creed and something – I couldn’t see the subtitle. Of course he’s still into computer games.

I slowly closed the door and removed my fingers from the handle, the latch letting out a tired noise when it clicked back into place. Then I turned to face him, taking a step towards the bed.

‘Oh, you want something…’ he said, sounding surprised and weary, as if my true intentions for entering his room we ren’t only a revolting discovery but equally as burdensome for him. However, the playful smile at the corner of his mouth had betrayed him and encouraged me to move closer.

Not breaking eye contact with him, I pushed my thumbs under the waistband of my pyjama bottoms and slowly slid them down my thighs until the pale material puddled at my feet and my legs were free at last. I could see him swallow as he took in the view. He then sucked in his lower lip as I kicked the trousers away, across the laminated floor.

His lustful gaze fixed on my face again as I started to unbutton my top, which was still covering the top of my thighs. I was in no rush to reveal my entire body to him. When the two halves of my shirt finally parted, he stared at me with hungry eyes, as if exploring uncharted territory.

I stepped closer again, lifting the book from his lap and placing it on the bedside cabinet. Then I pulled the duvet off his legs – nothing was hidden anymore. Adam was as ready for this next game as I was.

But he still didn’t move – just swallowed hard again. I grabbed his calves and pulled him into a horizontal position so his head now rested lower on the pillow. Then I got the little square packet out from my breast pocket and tore it open.

‘You are truly well-prepared,’ he said as I carefully slid the thin layer of latex onto him.

When I kneeled over his lap and lowered myself onto him, his eyes widened.

Recovering from his shock, he put his hands on my hips and said, ‘Wow, you really don’t waste your time.’

‘Foreplay is overrated.’

He smiled. ‘I’ve never been dominated by a woman before.’

‘Can you please shut up?’ I told him and leaned forward for a kiss. This was a very different kiss from the one we’d shared earlier in the evening. It was an intense battle of tongues and lasted much longer than fifteen seconds.

When I ended the kiss, he looked at me as if asking, ‘What’s next? ’

In response, I started moving my hips in slow circles – I enjoyed dictating the pace. At the same time, his hands were all over my body: my waist, my back, my breasts and even in my hair. His restless fingers started to annoy me, so I leaned towards his chest again and grabbed his wrists to hold them down.

As I bent over him, he lifted his head to capture one of my nipples with his lips. His tongue moved gently but greedily, his teeth sinking into the tender skin every time I tried to pull away.

He then pushed his hips upwards, sliding deeper into me and overriding the rhythm of my grinding motions. Consequently, our movements became faster and so out of sync that mine turned into back-and-forth swings. Trying to end his attempts at a coup, I slid my ankles under his thighs to capture them with my legs as he lifted his hips again.

Meanwhile, his right hand wriggled free and wandered to the battlefield where our bodies united. His fingers found the most sensitive area in the valley of my body, just north of my opening, and started to gently massage it.

I fought back by locating the most sensitive part of his body, at the apex of his thighs, and carried out a similar operation. In response, Adam applied more pressure, prompting me to increase the intensity of my strokes too. When his gaze became cloudy and he closed his eyes, I knew I was winning.

Soon, his fingers stopped, his body tensed, and he gave up the fight, but not before I’d let out a hoarse moan.

After collapsing on his chest, I rolled over to the empty side of the bed. We both took a minute to catch our breaths.

He looked at me, laughing and shaking his head.

‘You are really something,’ he said then picked up the duvet from the floor to cover us both.

‘Was this better than our first night?’ I asked, resting my head on his warm chest.

‘Considering this time you were awake, yes.’

It took a moment for his words to reach me .

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing happened,’ he said, stroking my hair. ‘I didn’t touch you.’

I lifted my head to face him. ‘What?’

‘We didn’t have sex after the party,’ he explained. ‘You were already falling asleep on the train.’

‘So who undressed me?’

‘That was you,’ he said. ‘You were still awake when we got to the room, then you went to use the bathroom. I heard you throw up a few times, and at some point, you took your clothes off in there. I found you asleep in the bathtub then carried you to bed.’

‘Then why did you tell me we’d had sex?’

‘I never said that. The only thing I said was we had an unforgettable and loud night… and it was – I’d never heard a woman snore like that before.’

‘What about the selfies and the voice recording?’

‘I did have those, but you asked me to delete them.’

‘But… but you told me I did the recording when I was… you know , having an orgasm.’

‘Again, I never said that. You wanted to record the moment when we arrived in Cardiff and you stepped off the train. You kept saying you’d never been there before and how magical the city was.’

My thoughts were rushing as I tried to make sense of what he was telling me.

‘But if we didn’t have sex, obviously you could never have been the father of my child. Yet you played the part. Did it not bother you that it must have been someone else’s baby?’

‘There wasn’t a baby.’

‘But you didn’t know that until I’d done the test. Who did you think the father was?’

‘I didn’t really think about that,’ he said.

‘So you volunteered to raise a child that wasn’t yours… How long would you have kept it up? Would you have gone all the way? Or would you have bailed out eventually? ’

‘Not exactly sure what the question is, but I guess I’d have stayed… I told you it can be hard being brought up by only one parent. And I’ve known other guys who raised a child that wasn’t theirs…

I listened in silence. After processing the information, I laid my head back on his chest.

‘Wait, aren’t you going to flip out?’ he asked.

‘Well, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.’

He kissed my forehead, and, a few minutes later, I fell asleep in his arms.

*

‘Morning, sunshine,’ Adam greeted when I entered the kitchen. He wore the same joggers as last night, without a top on, and he was pouring cereal into a bowl on the counter.

‘Adam, about last night…’ I started.

He looked at me, smiling, but his expression changed into a scowl when he noticed I was fully dressed and holding my overnight bag on my arm.

‘Why do I have a sudden déjà vu?’ he asked. ‘Are you going to ask me again to pretend nothing’s happened?’

‘We work together. It would be a mistake… I don’t want to complicate things. I don’t want people talking about us.’

‘But you don’t mind people talking about you and David?’

‘That’s different,’ I said. ‘And I do mind it.’

He slammed the cereal box on the counter and asked, ‘How is it different? Is it because he’s a contracts manager and I’m below him? And you’re more like his level – a high-flying commercial manager? Am I not good enough for you?’

‘How can you say that? It has nothing to do with titles. And there’s nothing between me and David. It’s just not a good idea to mix work with one’s personal life.’

‘There’s a solution to that – I’ll quit.’

‘Please don’t,’ I begged. ‘Brooks O’Grady is a great company to work for; you won’t be treated better anywhere else. ’

He seemed deep in thought for a minute then shook his head, nervously running his fingers through his thick hair.

‘I’m still confused,’ he told me. ‘We had sex last night. Good sex. And you came into my room, not the other way around. Or did I just imagine it all? I don’t normally have such vivid sex dreams.’

‘Yes, we slept together. I mean, we finally had sex. That didn’t come out right, but you know what I mean.’

‘Yes, third time’s the charm,’ he said in a sarcastic tone.

‘Just please be serious for one second – can we talk like adults?’

‘I am being serious. Apparently, you’re the one who doesn’t think it’s serious.’

‘What did you expect?’ I asked, raising my voice. ‘That after yesterday, I’d say I’m madly in love with you?’

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. ‘Something like that… But I’m now starting to think everyone in the office was right about you, heartless Wicked Witch of the West.’

It was clear Adam was confusing love with lust.

‘I was going to offer you a lift to work, but if that’s what you think, I should go…’

‘Don’t you worry about me,’ he said. ‘I’ll make my own way to the office.’

‘You’ll have to, as my offer is no longer valid.’

‘Bye, Cruella.’

I turned back from the doorway and asked, ‘Is that another name they call me at work?’

‘No, that’s my nickname for you.’

‘You’re so childish.’

‘At least I have a heart,’ he called after me.

‘Let me know when you’ve grown up,’ I shouted back from the hallway. ‘Bye, Adam.’