“Right, I need a fucking drink, anyone else?”
Willow’s eyes were guarded as she looked at Johnny and then me. “Is he okay?” she mouthed silently.
I shrugged and went back to watching him. He was holding his hand out to Polly and when she extended hers, he took it and kissed the back of it. Johnny then pulled her closer, whispering something in her ear which made her giggle. As Johnny grinned up at Polly a feeling of ease seeped through my veins. It was his usual happy grin and I knew he was totally at peace with what he needed to do, and it blew me away again at how damn levelheaded and accepting he was.
I swallowed back the emotion as a small, warm hand slid into mine and gave it a squeeze. Willow smiled at me and laid her head on my shoulder.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I looked down at her and sighed, so damn glad I’d met her. “Yeah,” I replied. “Now I’m with you, I am.”
Her eyes lifted and she gave me a beautiful smile, as Polly’s girlish giggle rang out once more and I knew that this was the girl I was probably going to fall in love with.
In the heat of passion, changing your breathing pattern can help increase an orgasm’s impact; the faster you breathe the more excited you get. Consider keeping an inhaler with you at all times.
* * *
Willow
“Why the hell are we doing this, again?” I asked Charlie, who had my hand firmly in his as we followed Ruben toward the pub.
He looked down and dropped a kiss to my temple. “Because you’re a lovely sister who wanted to help her brother.”
“How is it helping him though?” I hissed. “He’s more chilled about coming out than anybody. He doesn’t need to talk to James and now I feel bad, like I’m introducing the trainee gay guy to the professional gay guy. I feel awful.” I groaned and looked up at the sky. “It’s no wonder he couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
“You can stop talking about me, you know,” Ruben called over his shoulder.
I didn’t want us to go back to how we’d been, barely talking, and I hated that me interfering in his life might do that. I’d thought that he might like to talk to James and get some perspective on what it had been like for him coming out, and how he’d told his friends and family. Okay, so none of us had been nonplussed by Ruben’s news, but he had admitted to me that he still hadn’t told his friends and was a little wary about it, but had planned a PS night at our house for them all and was going to tell them all together. Thinking about that, I realised he had this. He didn’t need me sticking my big fat oar in.
“Ruben, wait.”
I pulled up and waited for my brother to turn around.
“What?” he asked, walking back to us.
“You don’t have to do this. It was a stupid idea. You don’t need anyone to help steer you through the waters of homosexuality and I was being condescending to think you did.”
Ruben raised his brows and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, I know you were only trying to help. It’s not your fault you’ve stereotyped every gay man as being scared and naïve, I’m only glad you didn’t buy me some leather hot pants and get me a place on a float at Gay Pride.”
Charlie burst out a laugh as I stared up at Ruben with my mouth open.
“I would never-.”
“I’m joking,” Ruben replied with a grin. “I know this comes from a good place, Willow, so stop stressing. But one thing.”
“What?”
“Do not try and fix me up with your boss. I have Cane and I’m happy with the way things are going, okay. Anyway, James is like…” he paused and grimaced. “Thirty or something, ugh that would be so wrong.”
I nodded with a smile and instinctively pulled him in for a hug and gave him a tight squeeze. I think he was about to tap out when Charlie cleared his throat.
“Erm guys, we’re kind of blocking the pavement here.”
I let my little brother free. “If you want to go, I’ll explain to James.”
Ruben shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m thirsty and as the first two rounds are on you, I’m not going anywhere.”
He then turned and strode away, leaving Charlie and I to follow.
* * *
“How’s things with your mum?” I asked Charlie when we were alone at the table.
“Johnny told her, well we both did, that we want her out, but she turned on the waterworks and my big-hearted brother gave her a month to find somewhere.” He shook his head, his lips turned down into a grimace. “I’d have said tough luck, but it’s his house, so he gets the final say.”
“Did they charge her?”
“Nope. Wish they had, but once she’d sobered up, she gave them a sob story about her poor boy being in a wheelchair and how she worried all the time about him.”
“They told you that?” I was shocked, I expected she’d have at least been done for drunk and disorderly.
“No, that’s the excuse she always comes up with when she’s in trouble – pretty much works every time. Anyway,” Charlie sighed. “I don’t want to talk about her. How do you think this is going?”
He nodded toward the bar and my gaze followed his to where Ruben and James chatted together. I’d been right, Ruben really didn’t need any help and if anything, he’d been the one giving James information. He’d told him about a couple of groups, particularly Stonewall, a support group who’d helped Cane when he’d wanted advice about how to try and tell his parents and when James had told Ruben he didn’t go out much, but relied on dating apps to meet people, my brother had offered to take him on a night out and introduce him to some of the best bars.
“He’s totally sorted isn’t he,” I replied with a smile.
“Yeah, he is. I can’t believe he’s only just told you all. You’d think he’d been out for ages.”
We continued watching as James listened intently to whatever Ruben was telling him.
“He told me his boyfriend hasn’t told his parents yet,” Charlie added. “That could cause some issues between them if they have to continue sneaking around.”
“I know, but Ruben said Cane might move out of his hometown and more into the city, that way his parents are less likely to find out. I think Ruben wishes he’d tell them though.”
“Have you met Cane yet, apart from your assignation near the toilets?” Charlie grinned and took a swig from his beer bottle.
“Listen, it looked dodgy to me, I didn’t know, did I? And to answer your question, no, but he’s coming for lunch next Sunday.”
Charlie’s eyes went wide and he almost choked on his beer.
“I know,” I groaned. “Poor guy. He has no idea what he’s letting himself in for. I’m surprised at Ruben for even considering it, especially if he’s serious about him.”
“Oh, so does that mean you’re not serious about me?”
Charlie had a smirk on his lips, so I knew he was joking, but he did have a point.
“You’re different,” I replied as I smacked at his arm. “You were only meant to be a one-night stand, but I didn’t bank on my magnetic charm and personality and now, well of course now I can’t get rid of you. Don’t forget, you also saw my dad’s knackers so you’re practically one of the family.”
“I was going to be a one-night stand, eh?” He placed his bottle on the table and leaned back to study me. “I didn’t know that.”
I felt my cheeks burn at the realisation of what I’d said. “I don’t make a habit of it, and to be fair, I did think you’d be a bit of a love ’em and leave ’em type.”
“Why?” he asked and looked totally affronted by my accusation.
“Well, because look at you,” I sighed. “You’re gorgeous and could get any girl you wanted to, so why would you want more than one night. Would you choose plain cauliflower when you could have cauliflower cheese, no you wouldn’t.”
“Hang on,” Charlie said with a shake of his head as he shifted in his seat to sit sideways on to me. “Are you likening yourself to plain cauliflower?�
�
I thought about it. “Yeah, I suppose.”
Suddenly I was engulfed by his strong arms and pulled against his tight chest. He smelled delicious and was all hard and chiselled, yet safe, comfortable, and warm at the same time. I couldn’t help but breathe him in to make sure he was real.
“There is nothing plain cauliflower about you,” he whispered against my ear. “Everything about you is most definitely not plain or cauliflowery.”
My stomach went funny and I felt all girly as Charlie squeezed me tight.
“Oh God,” I breathed out on a sigh. “I really like you.”
“Good, because I really like you too and don’t ever think of yourself as anything less than cauliflower cheese, okay?”
I nodded against his neck and took another sniff for good measure before a loud voice rudely interrupted our moment.
“You never said you were coming in here,” Polly cried from somewhere behind me.
Reluctantly I pulled away from Charlie and turned to see my best friend standing arm in arm with Jasmine, who was dressed head to toe in what I thought was Ted Baker – which surprised me as she thought TB was the poor man’s designer clothing and often screwed her nose up at it. Times must be hard, I thought, either that or she’d had a bump on the head.
“I didn’t realise I had to tell you,” I replied with a grin. “And who do we have here? Surely that isn’t the lovely Jasmine Mellor dressed in Mr Baker?”
Polly snorted while Jasmine shifted from foot to foot and looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“You said no one we knew would be in here,” she hissed to Polly.
Polly shrugged.
“So?” I asked as I waved a hand up and down. “Explain.”
“I am an influencer you know,” she snapped. “And sometimes as an influencer we have to promote things we wouldn’t normally consider.”
“Unless the price is right,” I offered.
“Maybe. Anyway, I find this little outfit quite pleasant.” She stuck her nose in the air and turned to Polly. “I’ll have a brandy sour please, as it’s your round.”
“Anyone else?” Polly asked.
“Let me,” Charlie said and pushed up from the seat. “What would you like, Polly?”
“Honestly, I’ll go,” she argued.
Charlie was adamant and moved to her as he put a hand on her shoulder. “No, I’d like to, so what are you having?”
“I’ll have a vodka and diet coke please, if you insist.”
“Same again, babe?” Charlie asked me.
Before I had time to answer, Jasmine held her hand up. “Excuse me, do you not think it would be good manners to introduce me?”
I rolled my eyes as I knew for a fact she knew who Charlie was. Okay, I probably should have formally introduced them, but I was so caught up in my wind up of Jasmine it hadn’t entered my head.
“Jasmine this is Charlie, Charlie, Jasmine.”
“Hey, nice to meet you,” Charlie said as he flashed her a smile.
Jasmine slowly scrutinised him, from his feet right up to the top of his head. I knew because I could see her eyes moving inch by inch.
“And lovely to meet you too,” she practically purred.
Polly looked at me with saucer like eyes and mouthed ‘what a slut’, while I had to force myself not to get up and pee on Charlie’s leg to mark my territory.
“Same again, please,” I snapped, unable to take my eyes from Jasmine, who in turn had fixed her stair on my boyfriend.
I glanced over to gauge his reaction to her and under her scrutiny, Charlie’s face had morphed into something that looked like he could be having the most difficult shit ever as he scratched behind his ear.
“Right,” he mumbled. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he’d gone, Polly came and flopped down on the bench seat next to me, while Jasmine pulled out the chair that Ruben had been using.
“You never said he was that gorgeous,” Jasmine gasped and opened up her hideous handbag that was pink and shaped like an elephant. “I mean, he’s totally hot.”
She then pulled out what I recognised as a Louboutin lipstick and, without a mirror, perfectly applied more bright pink to her lips.
“Yes, I know,” I stated knocking back the last of my drink.
Polly must have sensed I was a little tense because she laid a comforting hand on my knee, but it did little to calm me down. I’d been here before with Jasmine, when she’d taken a fancy to a guy that I liked or was dating. She’d flutter her eyelashes, stick out her boobs and do the very best to avert their concentration from me to her. I’d said it before, and I’d say it again – why the hell was I friends with her?
“I’m a little surprised,” Jasmine said as she pushed up her tits until they almost spilled out of the silk cami top she was wearing with a matching skirt. “He’s not your usual type.”
“What’s her usual type?” Polly asked.
Jasmine looked me up and down and then glanced over at the bar. “Oh, I see Ruben is here too,” she announced. “And who is that he’s talking to?”
“James, my boss, so go on,” I ground out. “What’s my usual type?”
“Well,” she studied me with her head on one side and then smiled. “Not that gorgeous.”
I felt like a damn bull about to storm a matador as steam practically pumped out of my flaring nostrils and I stamped a foot on the floor. She could be so damn rude yet appeared to have no compunction to tone it down. She’d always been the same, but when you’re eleven years old and starting high school the need to create your own little pack is far more important than realising a member of that pack is actually a total bitch and that when you’re twenty-four you’ll wonder why you’re even friends with her.
“I think you’re very well suited,” Polly added, ever the peace maker. “And the way you were wrapped around each other when we came in, I’d say he’s mad about you. Now Jasmine, why don’t you tell Willow how you tried to get Gucci to let you promote their latest handbag and they said no. What was the phrase they used ‘lacking in public recognition’?”
* * *
Ruben and James had joined us back at the table and as we discussed whether to go and get a curry later, Toby and his friend Maxwell entered the pub.
“Hi Polly,” Toby said before acknowledging anyone else. “How’re you doing?”
“Hi Toby, hi Maxwell,” I said as I waved at them, to let my brother know I did actually exist.
“Oh hiya,” Toby said, his eyes only flicked to me before they went back to gaze at Polly.
Maxwell didn’t even bother peeling his eyes from Jasmine but simply held his hand up and then cupped his balls in his tight trouser that he was wearing with loafers and no socks, the thought of which made me shiver.
“All those crusty pieces of sweat inside his shoes must be gross,” I groaned to Polly.
“And the fact that he’s staring at our friend and holding his bollocks isn’t?”
I shrugged. “I have four brothers, your point is?”
“Would you like a drink, Polly?” Toby asked and fluttered his long lashes that were far too long for any male.
“I’ll have one,” I said as I held up my glass.
“I can get them,” James offered.
“No, let Toby,” Ruben added. “He hardly ever buys a round.”
“I’m asking Polly,” Toby said with a frown. “Oh hey, Charlie. Nice to see you again.”
“Hi Toby, good to see you too.” Charlie leaned into me. “You want another, I’ll get you one.”
“No, it’s my turn,” I said. “I only wanted to see if I could distract him, but evidently he has it as bad for her as ever.”
“I think that Maxwell guy has gone into a coma,” Charlie said with a laugh. “He hasn’t moved a muscle since he came in here. He’s transfixed by Jasmine.”
I turned my head sharply. “How do you feel about that?” I snapped.
His brow furrowed. “What, that he’s in a com
a? I’m a little worried, but I’m sure he’ll snap out of it eventually if we all talk to him and play him Westlife CD’s.”
I couldn’t help but grin at him but bit my lip to stop the belly laugh I wanted to give.
“No, the fact that he’s transfixed by Jasmine.”
I knew I was probably being pathetic, but I’d actually lost one boyfriend who said he didn’t think it was fair to keep seeing me when he was evidently attracted to other women i.e. Jasmine. He didn’t actually go out with her, or even ask her on a date, but she’d pushed her tits out and flirted enough to give him doubts. I probably should have stopped being her friend then, but a day later she offered to take Polly and me on a spa weekend as long as we took lots of pictures for social media with us holding a particular brand of haemorrhoid cream. Once the spa weekend was over the situation with William, my ex, didn’t seem so important compared to all the free stuff I would get from her – you never knew when you’d get piles.
“Like I said,” Charlie replied. “I’m sure he’ll come out of it if we all talk to him and play Westlife CDs.”
I nudged him with my shoulder and rolled my eyes. “Seriously, do you find her attractive?”
Charlie turned and looked at Jasmine who was busy on her phone, and then turned back to me. “Nope. She’s pretty enough, but she’s vacuous, shallow, and competitive.”
My mouth dropped open. “Wow, you’re good, you’ve only known her twenty minutes. I’ve known her thirteen years and she still manages to surprise me every day with new and vile attributes. And what do you mean, she’s competitive?”
“She thinks she’s in competition with you,” he said with a shrug. “You don’t need designer clothes or bright pink hair to stand out. Look at you in that dress, you look amazing and I bet you found it in a charity shop, didn’t you?”
I looked down at the sixties mini dress I’d found in a vintage store and the flat ballet pumps that I’d bought from a jumble sale that Mum’s school had organised.
“Well it’s vintage, not charity shop, but it did only cost me thirty quid, but the shoes were only fifty pence.”
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