‘It certainly is,’ I replied, scanning the illuminated London skyline. Now I was seated with nobody obstructing my view, it was much easier to take it all in. I spotted so many sites in the distance. The Gherkin, City Hall, the Tower of London…from this high, it looked like I was gazing down at a toy-town city with miniature trains crossing the tracks and little boats cruising across the Thames. Everything was so small.
‘Did you know, Alexandra, that this is the highest hotel bar in Western Europe?’
‘I didn’t, Luke,’ I replied, ‘but I can see how that would be true.’
‘It’s one hundred and eighty-two metres above ground level. And you see the bar? That was the inspiration for the restaurant’s name. The name GŎNG comes from dougong, which is a traditional Chinese architectural element of interlocking wooden brackets, which have been featured in the bar’s design.’
‘I see,’ I said, glancing over. It was hard to get a good look as there were lots of smartly dressed people crowded around the bar and seated on the tall, fancy red-velvet-and-mahogany stools, but from what I could see, the bar was made from green marble. As for interlocking brackets, I wouldn’t have a clue. Architecture wasn’t my area of expertise.
‘I often come here for cocktails and caviar,’ added Luke, handing me the menu for reference. ‘After nine p.m., you can sit back, relax and enjoy drinks around the infinity-edge Sky Pool too, which is also the highest in Europe.’
‘Oh, right, very cool,’ I said, scanning the list of cocktails as he spoke. I nearly fell off my chair. Bloody hell. Most of them cost over £20. Talk about sky-high prices to match the views.
‘So!’ He clapped his hands together again. ‘What did you get up to this afternoon, then?’
‘I went to the zoo,’ I replied. No big deal telling him that. I could have gone there with anyone.
‘The zoo?’ His face crumpled. ‘That explains the shoes you’re wearing then. But what would possess you to voluntarily spend your Saturday afternoon in a zoo? I remember being forced to go there on school trips. Hated it. So smelly. Those creatures are filthy and spread diseases, you know. That’s why they advise you disinfect yourself thoroughly after being around them. Eurgh!’ He winced.
Judging by the mention of my shoes, he was clearly not a fan of flats. Just what I’d always thought. Men generally prefer women in heels. Miles was probably just being nice as he could see I was in pain.
But how could Luke say that about animals? They’re amazing. I was sure he didn’t really mean it, though. A few minutes with my Cuddles and he’d fall madly in love.
‘I actually love animals,’ I protested, ‘so it was a brilliant afternoon. That’s a big exaggeration about spreading diseases. Yes, there are risks, like there are with everything, but if it wasn’t safe, then we wouldn’t have public zoos. Washing your hands with soap and water is fine. It’s not like you need to be sprayed with industrial-strength disinfectant afterwards or be put into quarantine or anything.’
‘Even so, I think it’s a bizarre way to spend your time.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Each to their own, I suppose.’
What was so bizarre about spending time with animals? If he could just see them up close, study them, observe them, he’d understand. I wished my battery wasn’t low; then I could show him some photos that would melt his heart. Oh well, I guessed it was unrealistic to expect us to agree on everything. Perhaps it was best to change the subject. I was sure there were plenty of other things we could chat about.
‘What did you do today, then?’
‘Well,’ he said, clapping his hands, ‘I was liaising with some contacts in Australia. Looks like I’ll be going there in a few months to do a talk. They said they wanted a professor who was the best in the field of cognitive neuropsychology, and so naturally I told them there was nobody more knowledgeable than me.’
‘What, you literally said that?’
‘Said what?’
‘That you were “the most knowledgeable professor in your field”?’
‘Yes. Why? What about it? I am.’ He pushed his chest out proudly. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘No, no problem. I mean, obviously, I know very little about cogno…cognitive…neuro…your psychology specialism…’ I stuttered, trying and failing to remember what it was called.
‘That’s right, most people don’t. It’s a very specialist area, which is exactly my point.’ He leant back and folded his arms.
‘It’s just, I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I guess I was just wondering if you ever feel weird pretty much declaring that you’re the best in the world at something yourself. Don’t you worry that it might come across as a bit, you know, arrogant?’
‘You see?’ He huffed. ‘That’s the problem with this country. British people are taught not to be confident, not to celebrate achievements. If self-deprecation was an Olympic sport, Britain would win gold. That’s what I love about the Americans and other nations. They celebrate success—the bigger the better. Over here, it’s all, “oh, I can’t say this or that as I’m British, and I’m so reserved and not allowed to be successful.” That’s ludicrous! I’ve worked hard to get where I am and to earn good money and travel the globe and become a world-famous professor. I believe I am the best, so why shouldn’t I shout about it? I’m a fit, successful, solvent, handsome, highly educated man. What’s so wrong with saying that? Why should I feel ashamed to admit it?’
I understood what he was saying. To a degree. And, yes, he was right. He was all of those things, but I guessed I wasn’t used to someone blowing their own trumpet so loudly. It certainly wasn’t my style. Even if I had achieved all of that, I’d probably be more humble about it. Let someone else say that I was the best rather than boasting about it myself. But that was just me.
That said, confidence could be an attractive quality in a man. Maybe I was just reading too much into it. He was just selling himself to get the speaking gig. Nothing wrong with that, I supposed.
‘I’m not saying you shouldn’t shout about your achievements,’ I said. ‘They’re great. It’s brilliant that you’re the best and that you’re getting these bookings overseas.’
‘It is. Speaking of the Americans, I’m in talks with some of the top universities about going over there to lecture some of their students next year too. I’d also like to do more in Asia. Combine it with some extra travelling. I reckon I’ll hit fifty countries next year. At least. I’m thinking maybe I should start trying to commercialise my Instagram page. No one I know has been to as many countries as me. There must be a lot of companies that would pay good money for me to stay in their hotels and fly with them, or at least give me travel and board for free, so that I could keep even more of my speaker’s fee. I’d be a good advert for any brand.’
If Luke’s own self-praise was anything to go by, any company he endorsed could be assured that he wouldn’t be shy about saying how brilliant they were.
There was no discuss topic this time around. For the next couple of hours, the conversation mainly consisted of Luke talking about his travels, his work and the international speaking engagements he had lined up.
If I was honest, at times my mind drifted and I started thinking about Miles. Wondering what he was doing.
We’d only been on two dates and I’d barely known him for twenty-four hours, but it seemed like much longer. With Miles, my whole body and mind felt lighter and brighter. For some reason, I felt a bit tense with Luke tonight. Like I was walking on eggshells. Like I’d say the wrong thing. Sometimes I felt stupid because I didn’t know as much about the world as he did or because I wasn’t as educated as him. But I couldn’t deny he was a catch. And looks wise, he was definitely my type.
That said, I didn’t have the urges that I’d felt on previous dates. Back then, I’d struggled to keep my mind from thinking about what it would be like to have sex with him. But tonight, I wasn’t really getting that. Maybe Stacey was right. Perhaps now that I had almost completed my fourth week, my bo
dy had calmed down and was used to the lack of activity. Actually, that couldn’t be true, as I had definitely been getting the tingles this afternoon with Miles…
‘So, Alexandra,’ said Luke as we walked across the marble flooring of the ground floor and stepped outside into the cold air. ‘How about coming back to mine for some coffee? It just arrived today. Had it shipped over from Italy. It really is the best you’ll ever taste.’ As he leant forward to touch my hand, I flinched. I didn’t mean to. It just happened.
‘I, er…sorry, Luke, not tonight. I’d like to take things slow.’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll take it slow,’ he said, stroking my hand. ‘That’s why I suggested meeting early this evening. We could have chilled by the pool and listened to the DJ they have playing tonight, but I thought it would be nicer if we headed home. That way we can spend the whole night together making love and then tomorrow morning too. No work to rush off to the next day. Just take our time. It’ll be nice and slow and relaxed. I guarantee it.’
I froze. On our last date, I had practically been ready to jump him, but now I just didn’t want to. Both my mind and my body told me to resist.
What should I say, though? I really didn’t want to go into a big explanation…
Actually no. Why should I have to? Just because he’d taken me to some super fancy bar and we’d been on four dates, that didn’t mean he should automatically expect me to drop my knickers. A month ago, that would have been the case, but not anymore.
‘Maybe another time, Luke,’ I said, easing my hand away. ‘Like I said, I want to take things slow. It’s too soon.’
‘Too soon?’ His brow furrowed. ‘What are we up to now? Our fourth date?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I said as confidently as I could. ‘Our fourth date. And I’m not ready. I’m sure as a gentleman, you understand that—right, Luke?’
‘It’s always the lady’s call,’ he said, holding his hands up. ‘Would you like me to drop you off, or are you getting the tube?’
‘The tube’s fine, thanks.’ I could really do with jumping in a taxi, as it was freezing, but I was feeling strong and I didn’t want to risk my resolve weakening.
‘Okay. Well, in that case, safe travels,’ he said, stepping towards one of the taxis parked at the entrance, opening the door and climbing inside. ‘Goodnight, Alexandra.’
‘Goodnight, Luke.’
I’d survived another date. I’d resisted. I’d successfully abstained.
The question was, how long would this newfound strength last?
Chapter Fifteen
‘I reckon you’re going to love this place,’ said Miles as we stepped through the white double doors. He’d taken me to a boutique cinema that was showing an indie film he’d heard about called What Are The Chances of Love? and he was raving about how different this place was to the mainstream theatres. ‘The picture quality and the sound are excellent,’ he gushed, ‘and because it’s small, it’s got a much more intimate feel. I love coming here.’
‘Well, if you love it, then I’m sure I will too.’ I squeezed his hand.
‘And there’s no need to go to the kiosk and queue up for hot dogs or popcorn. They deliver it all to you at your seat. Whatever you want. We could have mini fish and chips, or sticky toffee pudding, cocktails, wine—rosé, of course.’ He smiled. ‘Our dedicated waiter will bring us whatever the leading lady requests.’
‘Excellent!’
Miles approached the beautiful gilt-domed box office. The entrance had been designed to look how I’d imagined an American movie theatre to appear in, say, the 1950s. Even the popcorn was stored in a retro machine. It was so quirky and cool here. A classic, old-fashioned feel, but with a modern twist. We headed down the corridor to screen number three, and the usher, who was dressed in a smart red velvet tuxedo jacket and blue bow tie, showed us inside.
Tonight was our fourth date, and I was now five and a half weeks into my challenge. I’d got myself into a routine. Every week, I would go on one or two dates, work out at the gym three times, spend one evening at Audrey’s and rest on Sundays. It was flexible, of course. Sometimes I’d go on more dates, sometimes less. It was working well and helped keep me calm so I wasn’t totally focused on men.
Last week, I’d had a lot on at the office and had to work late, and as Luke was away at a conference, I’d only gone out once, on Thursday with Miles. For our third date, I’d suggested that we go bowling, which was fun, albeit a little humiliating too. Miles literally wiped the floor with me, he was that good.
‘You didn’t have to beat me so spectacularly,’ I’d protested as we’d walked hand in hand to the station afterwards. ‘I know achieving more than double my score makes you look all manly, but you could have at least got a few less strikes or tossed the ball into the lane next to us a couple of times, to make me feel better!’
Miles had laughed. ‘But I did! Well, not the tossing the ball bit, as they probably would have thrown it straight back in my face, but I did try holding back on the strikes the best I could…’
‘Whatever,’ I’d said. ‘Don’t worry, Doc. I’ll beat you next time.’
‘Beat me, eh?’ He’d smirked. ‘Promises, promises…’
I loved it when Miles was a little bit naughty. It didn’t happen often. Most of the time, he was very respectful and never talked explicitly about sex. But occasionally, an innuendo or double-entendre would come up naturally in conversation and you’d know that those thoughts were there. Even if he didn’t say them, they were floating around somewhere in his mind. Mmm.
Three dates in and we were still at the kissing-on-the-cheek stage, which was unheard of for me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken things so slowly. Perhaps when I’d first started dating when I was fifteen? A long time ago. I couldn’t lie. I was definitely hoping we might have a snog tonight. Time would tell, though. It was better for it to happen naturally, so I’d just have to wait and see what happened…
‘After you,’ said Miles, stepping aside so that I could sit down first. Whilst the interior of the theatre continued the classic feel with the thick red velvet curtains covering the screen, the seating was definitely very modern. ‘There’s a remote-control panel on the armrest so you can recline the seat back or raise the footrest. Please. Make yourself comfortable.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Always a pleasure.’
We took off our coats and scarves and settled back into the special love seat: a soft red leather sofa that Miles had reserved for us. It was really comfy. Much better than the tatty hard blue chairs at the multiplex cinemas I’d been to, which often had food or drink stains engrained into the grotty fabric. Here, they even had matching red cashmere blankets to snuggle under. This was almost as good as cosying up to watch a film at home.
Miles pressed the button to call the waiter, and ordered two large glasses of wine and a bowl of popcorn to get us started, then asked for the mini portions of fish and chips to be delivered halfway through the film.
The theatre was practically empty. I guess not many people came here on a Wednesday evening, which was fine by me as, aside from a couple sitting in the middle and a few other people scattered towards the front, we practically had it to ourselves.
The lights faded and the adverts began. After the usher crept over and placed our drinks on the swivel table connected to the seat, Miles put his arm around me, and I instantly felt the tingles rushing through me. As I went to rest my head on his shoulder and breathed in his gorgeous woody scent, he lifted my chin and turned my head around to face his.
Miles took off his glasses and rested them on the table. Even though it was dark, I still saw the sparkle in his eyes. God, he was beautiful. As I gazed into them, I could have sworn my heart stopped for a second. Before I could catch my breath, Miles leant forward and placed his lips gently on mine.
Oh Gosh…
It was like my whole body had been struck by lightning.
Miles’ lips were the softest I’
d ever felt. Smoother than silk and deliciously juicy. His breath was sweet, minty and warm. He kissed me slowly like he was savouring his favourite dish and wanted to enjoy every morsel. No rush. As the intensity grew and the kisses became more passionate, my heart pounded and my inner thighs trembled. This was heavenly.
Our mouths parted further, and he began to flick his tongue gently against mine. I knew what Laurie said about French kissing, but when something felt this good, sometimes you needed to bend the rules a little. Every kiss was so in sync. Exactly the right rhythm, the right intensity, the right amount of tongue…everything just felt so right.
From that point on, it was like our mouths had been cemented together. We tried a few times to break away from each other in an attempt to watch the film, but never lasted more than a few minutes before our lips locked again. The connection was just so strong.
I wanted him so badly. How we managed to stop ourselves from ripping each other’s clothes off, I don’t know, but we deserved a medal for keeping our composure.
In truth, it was Miles who showed the most self-control. His hands respectfully never wandered anywhere other than to stroke my face, shoulders or back. He didn’t even try any sly boob or bum grazing. If it wasn’t for the intensity of his kisses and the undeniable chemistry, I might have wondered if he even fancied me at all. Most men would not have been so restrained.
I, on the other hand, was not as well behaved. I couldn’t help myself. I was curious. Miles was always wearing so many layers. I wanted to feel if there was a nice firm chest underneath that shirt/jumper combo, and although I’d only run my hands over the top of his clothes, I do believe there was…
Like I’d felt on our date at the zoo, his arms also appeared to be solid, and as we got closer, I quickly discovered that they weren’t the only solid thing that I could feel pressing against me. Hard to tell (pardon the pun) without actually touching it first-hand or seeing an outline, but I felt confident in confirming that Roxy’s fears of me waiting six months to sleep with a guy, only to find his package was smaller than my little finger, would certainly not be an issue with Miles…
Only When It's Love: A Chick Lit, Romantic Comedy Novel: Holding Out For Mr Right Page 12