Love Offline

by Olivia Spring

  It had been ages since I’d done this, and I was so nervous. A million questions flooded my brain. Would I fancy him? After all, we’d only met briefly at speed dating and had barely exchanged more than a few words on WhatsApp since then. Would he fancy me? What would we talk about? Getting here early only gave my nerves extra oxygen, because I had nothing to do but wait…

  I think I remembered from the dating ‘rules’ I’d read donkey’s years ago that a woman was supposed to be fashionably late. But apart from the obvious sexism, it didn’t sound like a good idea for someone like me. Knowing my luck, if I attempted that, my train would be cancelled, my phone battery would die so I wouldn’t be able to text him, then I’d run from the platform, twist my ankle and eventually hobble to the meeting place only to find he’d gone home because he thought I’d stood him up. Nope. Too risky.

  So, rather than play it cool and follow the rule book (who made this stuff up anyway?), I decided it was better to arrive early. Not least because after spending three hours getting ready (yes, three bloody hours), I’d be thoroughly cheesed off if that preparation was all in vain.

  I was still worried about whether he’d actually turn up. Given the fact that I’d cancelled my dates with Kane, there was always a chance that karma would bite in the bum and give me a taste of my own medicine.

  By 4 p.m. I’d driven myself crazy, so I bit the bullet and messaged Henry to say I was looking forward to seeing him at 7 p.m. (sounded keen, but I wanted to check I wasn’t wasting my time). Thankfully he’d replied to say he was too. Phew. That made me feel a little less paranoid. Well, until now of course. With these extra minutes to kill, the possibility of him cancelling had been catapulted straight to the front of my mind again…

  Five minutes to go.

  My phone pinged. Oh no…don’t tell me…

  Thank God. It was just a message from Chloe wishing me good luck. And checking I hadn’t chickened out again. Cheek.

  I quickly replied. It was rare for her to send text messages, so I supposed I should consider it an honour. Maybe she’d got Archie to type it out. Mind you, her phone was so ancient that he probably wouldn’t even know how to use it.

  Three minutes to go.

  Jeez. This waiting was killing me. Why did every minute feel like six hundred seconds rather than sixty?

  I needed a distraction. Phone. Instagram. No. I was supposed to be cutting back.

  I’d go to one of the shops in the arcade, then come back again. That would kill some time.

  Just as I started to walk away, I saw Henry approaching me.

  ‘Hey, you!’ He smiled.

  ‘Oh, hi, Henry!’

  ‘Hello, darling,’ he said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. ‘You look nice.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, pleased that my three hours of exfoliating, leg, armpit, and bikini line shaving, eyebrow and upper lip tweezing, face-masking, make-up applying, and hair straightening, plus my multiple outfit experimentation, had been appreciated by someone else other than me and my bedroom mirror.

  He was wearing a grey-and-blue checked shirt, distressed jeans and big tanned Timberland boots. His beard looked much thicker than I remembered, but he looked good. And I can confirm that I found him attractive. What a relief.

  ‘You haven’t been waiting long, have you?’

  ‘Just got here,’ I lied.

  ‘Good. I thought we could head over to a pub by the river. That cool with you?’ he said.

  ‘Sounds great!’

  As we walked past Borough Market and towards the river, we chatted about our day. He’d been doing some DIY around his flat, and rather than confess that I’d spent the whole afternoon preparing for the date, I said I’d met up with a friend. Not completely untrue, considering I had seen Chloe earlier today.

  The pub was split across two floors and was very busy, with a large group of people huddled around the TV screens watching a football match. We headed upstairs, where it was much quieter, ordered our drinks and sat down at a table near the large glass patio doors. I was definitely glad to take the weight off my feet, as my toes were beginning to burn from being squashed into these heels. That said, considering I spent most of my days at home wearing slippers or in Converse when I ventured out to grab coffee, my feet were holding up well. I suspected it would be a very different story by the end of the night.

  ‘Ah. I needed that!’ said Henry as he took a large gulp of his pint.

  ‘Sounds like a well-deserved drink,’ I replied.

  ‘Yep!’ he sighed. ‘Fixing kitchen cupboards and tiling is thirsty work.’

  ‘Never done it myself,’ I said, ‘but it doesn’t sound like a barrel of laughs.’

  ‘It’s not. But the doors were literally hanging by a thread and I’d been putting it off for ages, so it had to be done. Feel better now it’s all sorted, though. Anyway, enough about all that. So, talking of fun, what do you do to let your hair down?’

  ‘Hmmm.’ I paused, wracking my brain for a suitable answer. Admitting that before I’d agreed to Chloe’s challenge, I’d generally spend my free time on Twitter, Instagram, Tinder or Netflix wasn’t exactly going to make me sound like the catch of the century, now was it? ‘Good question. I’ve been keeping things a bit low-key on the fun front as I’ve had lots on at work and I’m also only just starting to come out of my shell again after splitting up with my ex.’ That much was true.

  ‘Ouch.’ He winced. ‘Sounds painful. Say no more.’

  ‘Yep, probably for the best. But to answer your question, when I do let my hair down, I like going to galleries, museums and intimate gigs,’ I replied, thinking that I hadn’t done any of those things in ages. Years, even. Terrible really. ‘How about you?’

  ‘Watching the footy, enjoying a few pints with my mates. You know, the usual.’

  Sounded similar to Eric, whose primary interests were watching rugby, drinking and of course engaging in extracurricular activities with Nicole behind my back.

  God. I’ve really got to stop thinking about Eric. Henry is not Eric. Not all men are the same. Not all men are the same. Not all men are the same…

  ‘I see. Cool,’ I said, focusing again. ‘So, how about you? How long have you been single?’

  ‘Erm,’ he said, taking another sip of his pint. ‘About three or four months. Well, the divorce came through about five months ago, but I’ve only just started to get back into the dating stuff.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t realise you were married,’ I said.

  ‘Yep,’ he sighed. ‘Seven long years.’

  ‘The famous seven-year itch?’ I asked.

  ‘Hmm, something like that.’ His voice trailed off. ‘How about you, darling?’ he asked swiftly. ‘Were you married?’

  So much for not talking about my ex.

  ‘No, but I—’ I paused. Oh my God. I couldn’t believe I was just about to add that I’d wanted to get married, but Eric didn’t, and he’d now chosen to marry Nicole instead. Seriously. I needed to get a grip. Chloe was right. A first date was never just a date. I was supposed to be selling myself, not acting like a woman who was still hung up on her ex. Rephrase:

  ‘I was with my ex for five years.’

  That’s better. Short and sweet. He didn’t need to know the ins and outs of my angst and insecurities.

  ‘Any kids?’ asked Henry.

  Another button unwittingly pressed. I’d always wanted to start a family, but Eric had said we should wait until after we were married, which of course never happened…

  ‘No, you?’ I replied swiftly, trying to block out Eric for the umpteenth time.

  ‘Nope. Zero baggage. Just me, myself and I.’

  ‘Right. So, should we get something to eat?’ I asked, quickly changing the subject, deciding that I wasn’t ready to hear about his past or, more to the point, discuss my own. ‘I’m starving, and if you’ve been fixing cupboards all afternoon, you must have worked up an appetite too.’

  ‘Now you’re talking!’ He rubbed his hands toge
ther, then we picked up the menus from the table.

  As we tucked into our pie and mash, the conversation flowed freely. We chatted about his job as a carpenter and also a bit about my work. Whilst we seemed to get on and both had awkward dating app experiences to share, I wasn’t sure if he was husband material. But I was attracted to him. Did he feel the same? No idea.

  I mean, he’d said I looked nice when we’d met in the station, so that was positive. Then again, unlike enthusiastic adjectives like amazing or fantastic, nice was one of those neutral words people used sometimes to be polite. It was a bit non-committal. Like saying to someone they look okay. Hmmm.

  Henry hadn’t given any signs to show that he was interested romantically. No attempts to touch my hand or suggestive comments. He’d flirted a lot more when we’d met at speed dating.

  I wished I knew what he was thinking. They say that women play with their hair or flutter their eyelashes when they’re attracted to a guy. I had no idea if I’d been doing either tonight. Maybe subconsciously. But what signals did men give a woman if they liked her?

  ‘Wow,’ said Henry, gazing out of the windows, which were facing him. ‘The views of London look great. Shall we go on the balcony and take a look?’

  ‘Yeah, why not?’ I picked up my jacket and followed him through the patio doors.

  We headed over to the edge of the empty balcony. He was right. The views of St. Paul’s and Tower Bridge in the distance and the lights from the surrounding buildings glistening on the Thames looked stunning.

  ‘It’s pretty,’ I said, turning to face him.

  ‘Just like you, darling…’ He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and leaning forward to kiss me.

  Oh! I wasn’t expecting that.

  His kisses started slowly, then became more urgent as he pulled me in closer to him. I could feel his hard-on against my thigh. At least that answered my question about whether or not he found me attractive…

  Mmmm. I felt a tingle between my legs. It had been a while since I’d been this close to a man, and after being used to kissing Eric for five years, feeling someone else’s lips was kind of—I don’t know, weird? Not necessarily in a bad way. Just different.

  I could taste the beer on Henry’s lips. I still remembered the taste of Eric’s breath. He was obsessed with chewing gum, so it was always minty. I liked kissing Eric. I missed him.

  ‘That was nice, babe.’ Henry smiled, then it faded a little. ‘You okay?’

  He’d obviously noticed that I wasn’t fully engaged.

  I snapped out of my thoughts. I’d told myself earlier that I wouldn’t do this. I needed to focus on the present.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I said, trying to push memories of Eric out of my mind for the hundredth time.

  Let him go. Eric isn’t here and Henry is. Eric’s with someone else now. He’s getting married to Nicole.

  I had to move on. I needed to move on.

  I took Henry’s head in my hands and started to kiss him. This time I focused on the here and now and the fact that I was with a cool, funny guy who seemed to be into me.

  As Henry’s hands wandered over my bum, then up to stroke the side of my breasts, I began to let go.

  That’s better. As I allowed my mind to be free and let my body relax, I started to get more turned on.

  Henry pressed himself against me, and as I parted my mouth, he thrust his tongue inside.

  ‘I don’t live too far away from here, you know,’ said Henry, coming up for air, ‘if you want to come back to mine?’ My eyes grew wide.

  ‘Sleep with you on the first date?’ I said, pulling back gently.

  ‘I’m a proper gent, babe. I wouldn’t expect you to do the deed on our first date. That’s why I waited until tonight, which technically is our second date, to ask you instead,’ he winked.

  ‘Funny, Henry,’ I said, raising my eyebrows. ‘But this is our first date.’

  ‘Nope,’ he said, pecking me firmly on the lips. ‘Our first date was at Leon. The fact that you also dated twenty other guys that night doesn’t count!’ he laughed.

  ‘Cheeky!’ I said, kissing him on the lips again.

  ‘Come on…’ He started planting kisses on my neck. ‘I like you, you like me, we’re both adults, so what’s the problem?’

  ‘True…’ I said, trying and failing to think of a witty response.

  ‘Like I said’—he stroked my chin—‘I’m a gentleman, so no pressure, babe. All I’m saying is, neither of us are getting any younger. It’s not like we’re twenty-one with our whole lives ahead of us. At this age, it’s carpe diem and all that. Seize the day, or night, I say.’

  His hands travelled up my burgundy dress and along my inner thigh.

  Mmm…

  Gosh. It’s been a while. All hope of suppressing sexual thoughts went straight out of the window. Henry had reminded me how much I enjoyed it. How much I’d missed it and how much I wanted it.

  Here I was, standing out on a balcony, above a large group of tourists huddled on the pavement below who could glance up at any minute with his hands running all over my body, and yet I didn’t care.

  What had come over me? Must be lust and extreme horniness rearing its head. Pardon the pun. Rearing was definitely the right word to describe the rod resting against my thigh.

  Carpe diem was great in theory, but in reality, wasn’t it a bit soon? Maybe I should get to know him a bit more first. That would be the sensible thing to do. After all, I didn’t want to get hurt again.

  But perhaps if I slept with him before I got to know him, if it didn’t go anywhere, it might be easier to deal with, as I’d be less attached?

  Or maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t think so bloody much and should just go with the flow for a change? You know, have fun?

  Chloe had said a shag would do me a world of good. And now I could feel the hormones racing through my body and my heart pumping, I reckoned she was right.

  Oh, what the hell.

  ‘Okay, Henry,’ I said quickly before I changed my mind. ‘Why not? As it’s our second date, let’s go back to my place. Let’s go and seize the night.’

  Chapter Twelve

  We spilled through the front door, hands all over each other’s bodies.

  ‘Which way to the bedroom?’ he gasped.

  ‘This way,’ I said, walking backwards towards the door, pressing my lips against his.

  Dammit. I just remembered, My bedroom was a tip. There were clothes literally everywhere. I’d pretty much emptied the entire contents of my wardrobe before I’d annoyingly decided to wear the first outfit I’d tried on. Typical.

  ‘One second,’ I said, pulling away. ‘Wait here—I’ll just be a minute.’

  I slipped inside, closing the door firmly behind me, opened the wardrobe, gathered up the clothes scattered on the floor and all across my duvet, then bundled them over the top of the rail.

  There was a knock at the door.

  ‘Babe?’ said Henry.

  ‘Er, just a sec—’ Before I got to finish my sentence, the door flew open.

  ‘What you doing?’ he said. ‘Oh darling, don’t bother tidying up for me. I’m not interested in what your room looks like. The only thing I want to see right now is you. Naked.’

  He strode towards me, planted his lips on mine, then lifted my dress up over my head. Thank goodness I’d taken Chloe’s advice to put on some decent underwear.

  I sat down at the edge of the bed, my heart racing from the rush of nerves and excitement.

  Henry whipped off his shirt, unbuckled his jeans, pulled them, along with his brown boxer shorts, down past his ankles and stood in front of me.

  ‘Suck it, please, babe,’ he said, holding himself in his hands.

  Wow. Talk about cutting to the chase. I guessed this was what we were here for. After all, he hadn’t come back to my place to read me a bedtime story.

  I looked down to see his throbbing rod standing to attention and peering out from a very heavy c
urtain of pubic hair.

  He had a lot of hair. A thick, dark covering across not just his torso but all across his shoulders and back too. So different to the wisps of hair on Eric’s chest.

  Henry placed his hands at the back of my head and gently steered it towards him. I wasn’t used to going down on a guy so soon after we’d met, but as tonight was about throwing caution to the wind, I decided to go for it. Might help me feel a bit more relaxed about having sex afterwards. I needed to get more comfortable first, though.

  I lay on my stomach across the bed, moved my head towards him, then opened wide. As I slid him in and out of my mouth, he groaned.

  ‘Oh, darling, you really know how to make me happy. Keep going, babe.’

  Seeing that I was turning him on made me feel great. My confidence had taken such a battering after Eric left me. I’d never thought I’d be able to face being with another man again, but here I was, and doing okay it would seem. I couldn’t wait for him to go down on me too.

  After a few minutes I edged away, gently moving him slowly out of my mouth, turned over, peeled off my knickers and opened my legs, ready for him to reciprocate.

  ‘Kiss me, please,’ I said as I opened wider. He climbed on top of me and began kissing my neck.

  Not there.

  ‘Um, Henry,’ I said, pulling away gently. ‘I—I meant I’d like you to kiss me,’ I said, stroking myself.

  He bolted up like a deer who’d just been caught in the headlights.

  ‘What?’ He grimaced as if I’d just asked him to suck on a diseased animal’s rotting big toe. ‘I don’t do… I mean, I just…er… later, babe,’ he said, softening his voice. ‘Mmmm. You’re so sexy, darling,’ he groaned as he started kissing my neck again. ‘You almost made me come. You turned me on so much, and now I just want to be inside you.’

  Wait.

  I tried to process what was going on. Was he going to say that he didn’t do that? I was clean. I’d showered before I’d met him. No. I must have misheard. I mean, he asked me to give him head literally a millisecond after we’d got into the bedroom, so he must be into oral. Eric certainly was.