Chapter One
First of all, I have to start by saying, I don’t usually do things like this. Honestly. Ineverdo things like this – I’ve neverdoneanything like this before.
Then again, I’ll bet that’s what all the girls say, or at least the ones like me, who are on the brink of being a bad girl for the first time in their lives, when they’re negotiating with themselves, in their heads, trying to excuse what they’re doing, to make a strong case for doing it.
It’s 2020 – although not for much longer – but that’s still a good reason, right? I’m a modern, progressive woman. Then again, I did call my dad up, last week, to have him come by and change the lightbulb in my bathroom for me, but it was one of those spotlight ones that are impossible to get out without – I really hate myself for saying this – a strong pair of hands. Not my flimsy girl hands, which I did try with, I promise. That’s a flaw with me though, not women. Women don’t need men… I just do, sometimes, for some things – the things I’m bad at.
Hmm, let’s try another one. Another angle to excuse my out of character behaviour. I am young, free and single. Well, young-ish, because 32 isn’t exactly old, is it? Although I was served up a sponsored social media post about freezing my eggs recently, which I desperately hope wasn’t targeted at me because of the demographic I’m in.
I always have a low-key existential crisis around New Year’s Eve, but I definitely don’t need to be having one the night before the night in question, when I’m in a car with a man I just met, about to go back to his place.
As for free and single, well, obviously I’m free, no money will be exchanging hands tonight. Single I can own, but that’s nothing to brag about, is it?
Sorry if I’m talking crap. I’m a bit drunk – which is something Idodo sometimes - and it’s probably what is giving me the false sense of confidence I have tonight.
It’s so cold the taxi window is steaming up, probably from the heat coming from our bodies, warm from hours and hours of drinking and dancing and kissing the night away.
I’m not being reckless. Not as reckless as I could be, at least. I may have only known this guy for half a day, tops, but he’s been sort of vetted for me already, given that we met at a work party, and he’s kind of my new boss.
Wait, scrap everything I just said. Thatisreckless. He might not murder me but he could definitely kill my career.
We’ve just had this absolute dream of a whirlwind romance across the course of the evening. Seriously, I’ve never felt such strong butterflies in my stomach. I can’t feel them now, obviously, because I’m so nervous. Nervously excited though. I’m a strong, independent, blah blah blah. I knowexactlywhat I’m doing. I think.
I’ve had a kind of crappy year but, if it has taught me anything, it is that we should all live in the moment, have fun, take chances... I haven’t previously subscribed to such an easy-going lifestyle, but honestly, I’ve never felt such an instant connection with someone.
You know what? I’m not going to worry about it. I’m not going to overthink it. I’m not going to let the old me get in my head and, as for the fallout of my night of passion, well, that’s a problem for future me to worry about. Tonight, I’m just going to have fun!
Chapter Two
The thumping headache, the inexplicable feeling of the bed sheets hurting your skin, that deep feeling in your stomach where you simultaneously feel absolutely starving and like you’re going to throw up. I recognise all of it – it’s a hangover.
But the strange, dark room. The unfamiliar smell. The naked man next to me who I hardly know. None of this is familiar – I’ve never had a one-night stand before.
I cast my mind back to last night. On the one hand, I knew I was heading into one-night stand territory without a map, but on the other hand, Rowan and I really hit it off. Sure, this is out of my comfort zone, but taking the chance felt like an investment in a potential relationship.
I say that like I can fully remember what his face looks like. Oh, God! This doesn’t feel good at all.
He’s asleep next to me, his face buried deep in the pillow. The room is quite dark, courtesy of the thick blinds – which I know, because there’s a digital clock in my eyeline telling me it’s 11 am – so I can’t quite see him. I can tell he has muscular shoulders and I can feel the weight of his arm because it is draped across my body, strapping me in like I’m on a rollercoaster, reminding me that the ride isn’t over yet. So to speak. Ohhh, God!
I’m going to have to wake Rowan up, if I want to get out of bed, but as I muster up the courage to speak, and search for the right words to say, eventually I feel something coming up... it isn’t the right words though, or even the wrong ones, it’s the contents of my stomach. They’re on their way.
‘Erm... excuse me,’ I say weakly. ‘Excuse me!’
Rowan wakes up suddenly, flipping onto his back, and I can just about make out that he’s trying to open his eyes, but he hasn’t been awake long enough.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asks sleepily.
‘Bathroom,’ I say. ‘Quickly.’
‘Over there,’ he says, pointing just behind me.
I can see the outline of a door so I run to it. I hit the light switch on my way in, spot the toilet and kneel in front of it. And then it all comes out.
‘It’s OK, let it all up,’ Rowan says.
He’s in the bathroom with me now, which isfantastic. Can’t he leave me to me throw up in peace?
‘I always feel better after I’ve thrown up,’ he continues. ‘Oh boy.’
