by Angel Devlin
I’m halfway through my panini when it lights up.
I scramble to grab it and end up flipping it up in the air in my haste. Thankfully, I catch it before it hits the floor.
Brett89: Hey, Beautiful. Would love to take you out for a bit of fun. Are you free tonight?
The fact he’s mentioned ‘fun’ in his first message breaks one of my rules when it comes to meeting guys online, but after talking to Aiden about it all, I decide to throw caution to the wind and agree on an impromptu date tonight. I send him the address of my usual restaurant and agree to meet him at eight.
I forgo the rest of my shopping trip and head to a hairdressers instead, seeing as my roots are well overdue.
When I get home, I double lock the front door. If Cheryl comes home then she’ll have to ring me to get in. I’m not showering without a bathroom door and giving anyone else a shot of my naked arse. It’s bad enough that I could see something different in Aiden’s eyes every time he looked at me after the traumatic ordeal that was last night’s bath mishap.
Standing with a towel around my body and a shower cap on my freshly coloured hair, I stare at the contents of my wardrobe.
Aiden’s words about my shit, baggy clothes ring in my ears and I second guess my choice. Pulling the towel tighter around me, I walk into Cheryl’s room and pull open her wardrobe. We’re a similar build, and although Cheryl’s boobs are quite obviously smaller than mine, I’m pretty sure her stuff will fit.
I push a few hangers along the rail until I come to a simple black wrap dress. It’s understated, what I hope is sexy, and it doesn’t look like it’ll cling too bad.
After digging in the back of my underwear drawer, I find something that suits the dress and pull everything on.
I’m standing in front of my mirror trying to convince myself that the low V at my cleavage isn’t too much when my phone pings.
Hotstuff: Photo of his still pink face. How’s the face?
KaylieH: Currently being covered in make-up for a hot date.
Hotstuff: Pouting face. Photo please.
“Ugh pain in the arse.”
Holding my phone at arms-length, I take what I hope is a flattering photo and send it over.
Hotstuff: Thumbs up photo. Where do I need to rescue you from tonight?
KaylieH: Middle finger photo. I won’t need it. Got a good feeling about this one. Check out the dress…
I snap another picture of my outfit and send it over.
Hotstuff: Holy shit, Kay-bear. I think I just came in my pants.
Shaking my head at my idiot best friend, I throw my phone back on the bed and finish off my hair and make up before ordering an Uber to get me to my usual restaurant of choice.
Brett is waiting for me with a single rose in his hand when I get there. My eyes almost pop out of my head as I take in his expensive looking slim grey trousers and perfectly pressed white shirt complete with a skinny tie. His hair is perfect; so perfect it makes me want to go to the bathroom and smooth mine out. He’s way too attractive to be spending the night with me.
“Wow, Kaylie. You’re even more beautiful in real life.”
He leans in to kiss my cheek and I have a cheeky sniff. I almost sing with delight when all I smell is the delicious scent of freshly washed man.
This night is really looking up.
We’re directed to our table and when the waiter asks if we want wine, Brett double checks my preference before ordering a bottle of my favourite French white.
“Good choice. I went to Chardonnay a few years ago. If you ever get the chance you must go wine tasting there. It was incredible… well, what I remember of it.”
“You’re not meant to actually swallow it are you?”
“I’m not a fan of spitting. You?”
Redness stains my cheeks but unlike almost every other guy I’ve dated, the way Brett just said that wasn’t sleazy in any way. It was just cheeky, and I can’t deny it’s kickstarted tingles low down in my belly that I haven’t felt in a very, very long time.
“Wine? Never. Such a waste.”
“My point exactly.”
The waiter returns and pours us both a glass before Brett lifts his and makes a toast.
“To our first date. Hopefully the first of many.”
I’m getting such good feelings about this guy, but a huge part of me is waiting for the ball to drop and for him to reveal a really ugly secret that’s going to turn me right off.
But that never happens. We talk about our lives, our jobs, our hobbies, and our mutual hope of moving out of the city one day to live in the country.
It’s hands down the best date I’ve ever had. So obviously something has to go wrong.
We’re on dessert, which I’m secretly hoping is a prelude to another kind of dessert that we might partake in back at my flat when a shadow falls over our table.
“Kaylie, what the hell are you doing? I didn’t believe it when Jenson said you were out on a date. How could you? We only agreed on having a break this morning yet you’re already here getting your claws into another guy. And to think… we were meant to be getting married. Thank God there’s still time to get my deposit back on the venue.”
The sound of Brett’s chair scraping against the wooden floor eventually stops Aiden’s bullshit long enough for me to get a word in.
“Brett, he’s joking. He’s not—”
“I thought maybe you were different from all the other slags on that site. Guess I was wrong.” And with that, Brett’s gone, along with any hopes of me getting any action tonight.
“You fucking idiot. What the hell did you do that for? I was having a great time. He was actually someone I wanted to spend some time with.”
Guilt twists Aiden’s face but it’s not as genuine as he wants me to believe.
“You’re paying the fucking bill, dickhead.”
I push my chair out behind me and storm towards the toilets. I take about six steps before I realise there’s still a forkful of chocolate torte on my plate. Fuck that, it’s bad enough my dates gone awry, I’m not missing out on chocolate. I rush back and fork it into my mouth, refusing to meet Aiden’s eyes, and then I stomp off again. It’s that or stab Aiden in the eye with my previously mentioned dessert fork.
I forego the cubicles as I don’t actually need to use the facilities, in favour of leaning my palms on the marble counter and staring at myself in the mirror.
“Did you really think you’d have a successful date for once?”
My nails try digging into the stone as anger radiates through my veins. How dare Aiden show up unannounced and ruin everything. I gave him no sign that my date was going south. Is he just so used to coming to my rescue that he couldn’t leave me be?
Telling myself that I need to stop leaning on my best friend so much to get myself out of bad situations, I leave the toilets, ready to head home alone once again.
Aiden’s sitting in Brett’s seat when I walk back out into the restaurant but with fire burning in my belly, I turn towards the exit to escape.
8
Aiden
There hasn’t been a call to come to her rescue.
I’m sitting on the sofa, my feet tapping. I don’t know how many times I’ve checked my phone.
I’ve turned into a needy girl.
Maybe I’m having some kind of a mental breakdown? I mean, I keep thinking of my best friend not like a best friend. I can’t get her body out of my mind. The body she’s taken on a date tonight and…
THERE’S BEEN NO CALL.
I know something is desperately wrong with my psyche when I decide that her being held hostage by some strange serial killer sits better in my mind than her actually being on a successful date.
Without giving things any further thought, I jump up, grab my car keys and head straight for the restaurant she usually takes her dates to.
When I walk through the door, nodding to the staff who by now have worked out that I’m either Kaylie’s wingman or we have some stran
ge sex game going on, I stop in my tracks as I see her eating dessert and some dude talking to her, all charm and just. Fucking. NO.
I know what dessert leads to. I need to stop this. She needs time to think about this. She’s not putting out on a first date. He is not getting his smooth lecherous hands on my girl.
My girl?
Obviously I mean that in terms of her being my best friend forever, right?
I’m looking out for my best friend. That. Is. All.
I stomp over to their table. A look of horror hits Kaylie’s face and she’s shaking her head in a ‘no, I don’t need this’ way but I’m here now and this is happening. I’m like a runaway train about to crash through an unknown new destination.
“Kaylie, what the hell are you doing? I didn’t believe it when Jenson said you were out on a date. How could you? We only agreed on having a break this morning yet you’re already here getting your claws into another guy. And to think… we were meant to be getting married. Thank God there’s still time to get my deposit back on the venue.”
Her date’s face turns into a sneer as he pushes back his chair.
“Brett, he’s joking. He’s not—”
Brett? What kind of fucking name is that? Sounds as oily as he is. Kaylie is not ending up with a Brett. Their couple name would be BreKay which sounds like our shortened form of breakfast, brekkie. It’s lame and she’s having no part in any ‘breakfast’ situations with Brett the dickhead.
“I thought maybe you were different from all the other slags on that site. Guess I was wrong.” Brett fucks off. Result. I’m happier than when I finished that marathon that time. I could punch the air right now. But Kaylie’s expression means I tone it down.
“You fucking idiot. What the hell did you do that for? I was having a really good time. He was actually someone I wanted to spend some time with.”
A little bit of guilt hits my face because after a series of shit dates my bestie was actually having a good time, but I can’t help it, a smirk twitches at my lips. I have no poker face, never have, and my best friend knows every expression I have in my repertoire anyway.
“You’re paying the fucking bill, dickhead.”
She storms towards the women’s bathroom, although it makes me laugh because she comes back to shovel in her last morsel of chocolate torte first, the chocoholic. I’m standing there wondering what to do when a waitress comes over. I can tell from her face that although she’s pretending to enquire if I want to order anything, she’s actually here representing all the restaurant staff who are dying to know what’s happening.
“Can I have a beer? Also, I’d better pay the bill, because I might have to leave at super quick notice.”
“I know this isn’t very professional of me,” the waitress says. “But for what it’s worth, I think she’s a fool not to realise that you are perfect for her.”
“Oh, er, no, she’s just my best friend. I’m her wingman.”
The waitress flushes. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just we’ve all seen how you look so perfect together. We thought maybe you were like her knight in shining armour. I’ll shut up now, because I’m embarrassing myself. It’s just… no, shut up, Lisa.”
“No, carry on. What were you going to say?”
“Well, you always look so happy when you leave with her. We’ve been rooting for you to get the girl and every time she comes in with someone else, we think oh she’s still not seen what’s right in front of her.”
I nod. “Okay. Seriously, thanks for your honesty, it’s appreciated.”
She nods. “I’ll get you that bill and your beer.”
I pay my bill and I drink my beer wondering if Kaylie has gone through a window and home. The restaurant staff think I’m some guy with a crush. I look happy every time her dates go wrong. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I think my brain is going to admit something to me that I’m not prepared to hear.
You’ve been happy that Kaylie’s dates have all gone to shit.
You were happy when her long-term relationship with Phillip went to shit.
You are a shit.
And you’re in love with your best friend.
I sink the whole lot of my beer down.
Why the fuck can you not take out your brain and leave it in a cloakroom when it’s doing your head in?
Face facts. Face facts. Face facts.
You love Kaylie Hale.
But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that I have feelings for this woman. If I tried to pursue things... If it got fucked up... Then I wouldn’t have my best friend anymore. The best friend I’ve had since I was six years old. So unrequited love here I come, because this can never happen.
I’m fucked.
And in a completely unsatisfying way.
The restaurant staff know it.
Has anyone else noticed? Oh God, does my sister suspect? We’re so close, we know everything about each other’s feelings, usually without even having to ask.
I have no time to think about things any further because Kaylie comes out of the toilets and rushes straight for the exit. Good job I paid the bill.
“Kaylie, wait up.”
She rounds on me and in front of all the staff she tells me to go fuck myself. I shrug my shoulders at Lisa as I leave. I bet we’re more entertaining than EastEnders. Kaylie is off out of the door and stomping down the street. It’s okay, she’s heading in the right direction for the car park. I just need to get her to stop by the end of the street.
“Kaylie. I’m sorry. I thought you needed rescuing like usual. That guy looked shady.”
She stops and swings back around to me and she swings her bag at me. Full on swings that small handbag that weighs a fucking ton and it hits me right in the eye.
“Fuuuccccckk.”
“Oh my god. Sorry. I meant to aim for your chest.”
I’m clutching my eye in severe pain. “What have you got in there?”
“My usual date stuff. Purse, mobile, keys, rape alarm, hammer.”
“You have a hammer in there?”
“Yeah, I date strangers. I need to be able to protect myself.”
“Well, we know you’ll be fine because you’ve probably blinded me.” I’m still clutching at my face and I feel a bit faint, so I sit on the floor with my back against the wall of the phone shop a few doors down from the restaurant.
People walk past us and I hear complaints about ‘people who can’t handle their beer’. They don’t realise I’ve been attacked by the hottie kneeling down next to me. Even with one eye I can see her amazing rack in that wrap dress.
She takes hold of my hand. “Take your hand away and let’s look at the damage.” Slowly, we peel my hand away from my eye. It’s all a bit blurred from where my hand was pressing, but slowly my perfect eyesight is revealed. Thank God. However, feeling around just above my eye socket it’s swollen and hurts like a sharp kick to the bollocks.
“Oh shit, it’s bruising. I’m so sorry, Aiden. However, I can’t help but think it’s karma for fucking up my date.”
“He looked shady.”
“He was lovely and I hadn’t phoned for you to rescue me.”
“I thought either you’d been kidnapped or that your phone had run out of juice. You never have a successful date; it’s not my fault I panicked.”
“Get up, you complete moron.” Kaylie says, holding out a hand, which makes me smile because there’s no way she’d be able to pull me to my feet.
“Thanks, but I can get up. Would you mind just moving away slightly so that swinging handbag can’t fuck up my other eye?”
“Ooops.”
“My car’s in the usual spot. Let me drive you home and I’ll apologise all the way back.” I tell her, though I know my whole conversation will be me lying because I’m so fucking happy I fucked it all up.
“Aiden…”
“Yup.”
“Why are you smiling like a lunatic? You’ve upset me, ruined my date, and have a black eye. Did I
also hit your head?”
“I’m just so happy you’re still talking to me,” I lie.
“Always, even if you’re a complete fucktard, you’re my bestie.” She shoves me in the arm as we walk.
Her bestie.
Her best friend.
If I cry now can I blame my eye?
“I really am so sorry,” I lie on the journey back to hers.
She sighs. “It’s okay. He was a bit slimy to tell you the truth.”
Ha!
“But it did give me hope because I enjoyed the date that there is someone out there for me, so it wasn’t all bad. Plus, I got as far as dessert and that chocolate torte was fucking-A.”
We pull up outside her place and the lights are on.
“Oh God, looks like the lovebirds are home.”
“You can come stop at mine if you like?” I offer, feeling hope that I can spend more time with her.
“No, it’s okay. I need to catch Cheryl in the morning and ask her what’s going on and if she’s planning on moving out because that obviously has implications for me.”
“Sure, okay.”
I’m bitterly disappointed. I cannot lie.
She gets out of the car. “Speak tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’m working, but we’ll catch up at some point. Night, Kaylie.”
“Can you believe it’s my thirtieth birthday next Saturday? Jesus, Aiden, where has all the time gone? Good job we didn’t make one of those ‘if we’re not married by thirty’ deals or you’d be shitting a brick right now, Mr Manwhore.”
Now my stomach is in my shoes. Is this what she sees when she looks at me? And why am I wishing we’d made one of those pacts. Goddamn it younger me, you fucked up big time there. Fuckhead.
“How’s the eye?” She adds.
“It’ll be a lot better the sooner I get some ice on it, so I’d better head off. Night, Kay-bear.”