‘You swear nothing’s happened between you?’ He looks deeply into my eyes and I nod emphatically.
‘On my life, I swear we’re just friends. Really really. And I’m allowed to have male friends, aren’t I?’ I sound defensive now but it works. Idris looks alarmed.
‘Of course you are!’
He clenches his jaw. ‘I just… I don’t know, I just felt like some of those messages crossed the line.’ He pauses, looking worried. ‘But maybe I’m overreacting. And I know I shouldn’t have read your private messages… I’m sorry, Est, I don’t—’
My heart is pounding. ‘It was nothing more than what you saw there on Twitter.’ Apart from the texts and photos.
‘Please believe me, baby.’ I reach for his arm, touching him lightly. ‘I wouldn’t cheat on you. I wouldnevercheat on you, it’s horrible. I promise I haven’t and wouldn’t. I swear it’s completely platonic!’
He nods after a moment and I pull him in for a hug. We hold each other for the next few minutes, not speaking, just squeezing and smelling. Our breathing falls in sync, slowingdown together, but my heart continues to pump loudly, roaring in my ears.
I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, and I don’t want to jump, but I also know I’m going to keep edging forward until there is no other choice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
‘So you’re saying you want to start a doggy daycare’ – he’s laughing so hard – ‘that’s based on a boat and it’ll be called…’
‘Noah’s Bark!’ I finish for him, delightedly. ‘Yes, we’ll sail around, picking up your dogs every morning, and then return them at night. Of course, a person would have to live near the river to use our services…’
‘Of course,’ he nods, eyes bright.
‘Isn’t it brilliant?’ I ask eagerly. ‘Do you want to invest in Noah’s Bark? We’re open to investors but we’re not going to be sharing literally any of the profits.’
‘Who iswe?’ Laughing, Paul raises an eyebrow at me, and the action is so unbelievably sexy that for a moment I can’t remember what I was saying.
‘Um,’ I swallow. ‘Ahem, er, well,weis me and my board of directors.’
‘Your board of directors?’ He wipes his eyes a little and takes another sip of his sherry.
‘Yes,’ I nod. ‘They’re not entirely real, but they make me and my business sound way more profesh.’
‘Oh my god, you make me laugh so much.’ He sits back in his chair, looking at me hard. He has this knack of looking at a person like there is no one else in the entire world. No one that matters as much as me, at least. ‘How are youthishot, Esther Adams, and yet also so funny and great?’
I shrug. ‘Obviously I had a huge trust fund that hit my bank account at twenty-one, which enabled me to have every available cosmetic surgery on the market. And a few from the black market too.’
‘Any from the farmers’ market?’ he asks seriously and I crack up.
I ponder this. ‘Actually, they probably have all kinds of cool goat gall bladder-type stuff the A-listers would eat whole for younger-looking skin. Gwyneth would snap that shit up for Goop in a second. We should’ve searched harder in Milton Keynes!’
He bursts out laughing again.
Somehow, I amfunnyaround Paul. Properly funny. He makes me funny. And I know it’s hot – evenIfancy me.
‘God, you’re so fucking cool and sexy,’ he tells me again.
The chemistry between us is palpable, everything in me is reacting to him. I should be wearing a Tena Light right now.
After what seems like a lifetime of waiting for him to get back from his trip, Paul and I are finally out for our much-waited-for second meet-up. And we’ve been celebrating with an intense bar crawl, finally settling on thispub two hours ago. The whole thing has been… well, magic. There’s no other word for it. There’s been no lull in conversation, no awkwardness, just endless flirty, silly, fun chat. And alotof staring at each other longingly. We could power the national grid with the electricity crackling between us.
A part of me feels weird, sitting here, liking this man so much, when I’m also messaging Alistair and Will. Is it OK? Is it unfair on Paul? Or unfair on all of them? Is it a form of cheating? The blurred line is getting finer and fainter all the time.
The texts with Will have been flying thick and fast since the other day in A&E. Back and forth easy banter. It’s exactly like old times. But now I don’t have a boyfriend to distract me, it’s easier, and even more intense. I looked up @losingthewill on Twitter last night. He’s still on there and his charm and intellect felt all too familiar and seductive.
There was no mention of a partner, but then there probably wouldn’t be. Twitter isn’t the place you share your engagement photos, it’s where you ruin jokes for strangers by pointing out how problematic everything is.
‘Ah Esther, you’ll laugh at me.’ Paul covers his eyes, shy all of a sudden. ‘I’ve just realized how much you look like a classic Hollywood film star called Greta Garbo. Obviously I mean back when she was young and glamorous.’
