I leapt out of bed, donned the most cleavage-heavy top I owned, and showed up at his friend’s gig with Kimi. We played it cool, letting them know that we were ‘just swinging by’ after our own ‘fun and significantly better’ night out. The whole thing went over well, just as I expected. He couldn’t take his eyes off me, and, later that night, his lips. But I still jumped in a cab with Kimi because he didn’t deserve to go home with me after it had taken him over twenty-four hours to respond. When I wandered through my front door at 3.30 a.m., my mum, ever the night owl, was shocked at my return, and incredibly eager to know everything. Thanks to the copious amount of alcohol in my system, I was more than happy to sit down and share with her.
She keeps pushing. ‘It seemed like a boy smile.’
‘I’m working,’ I say as I focus myself on my screen once more.
‘How is he anyway?’ she asks.
‘He’s OK– we just needed to swap days next week.’
This is why I don’t tell like to tell my parents about men. If she gets too happy, then I will too and I’ll convince myself that it has potential before I know if it does.
‘What days? Were you planning to meet up with him again?’
Benji. Not Aiden. She’s talking about Benji.
‘I meant work, that is a work thing. You’re distracting me!’
‘Understood.’ She mimes zipping her mouth and tossing the key behind her shoulder. ‘But I like him if he’s making you smile like that. That’s the last thing I’ll say on the matter.’
She’s right, Benji should be making me smile. And he does. . . I think. At least he does when we actually talk. Which, frankly, isn’t enough, and is mainly in person thanks to his stupid week-long text intervals. But I’m done waiting around. If I want this to stand any sort of chance, maybe I need to make more effort to drive us into something more serious.
I reach for my phone once again, work laptop a prop at this point, and pull up our thread of spaced-out, barely-there messages. I type, pressing send before my brain can stop me. This is diving. This is acting without thinking first.
U free tonight?
To my surprise, he responds thirty-three minutes later. A personal best at this point.
Yh, kinda tired tho. U can come round mine if you want?
Not exactly what I expected, but a sign of interest nonetheless.
I push back my chair, ready to run to my room and grab my list journal for a quick pros and cons session, but I stop myself in my tracks, pulling it back in and taking a deep and much-needed breath.
Don’t think, just do.
I like this guy and we were leading up to this anyway, so why not just get it out of the way now? It has been more than a while for me and I have needs just as much as anybody else does. Plus, as much as I hate to admit it, I have been feeling a fair bit of pent-up frustration since that weird moment with Aiden at the water park. That forehead wipe awakened something in me that had been dormant for far too long. Something one night with Benji could sort if I were to actually give him a chance.
Everyonehas casual sex nowadays, so what’s stopping me having it with someone I mostly like? Someone I have been on multiple dates with! That is, if you count our Friday swing-by as a date.
Don’t think, just do.
I’ve already thought too much and if I carry on, IknowI’ll talk myself out of it.
Send me your address, be over around 7 x
Seven would give me enough time to shower and shave my entire body.
His next response comes even quicker, leaving a mere five minutes between my message and his.
A thumbs-up.
Followed by his address.
Let’s hope he’s saving his enthusiasm for when I get there in person.
Nudge 24
The Head Pat
