Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
“Friend zoned.”
“Yeah. Both of us. Three weeks in, and we were sitting on the sofa on a Sunday morning, watching some utter crap neither of us would usually be watching, and I looked at him, and he was already looking at me, and it was so bloody stupid. So boring. So flat, and platonic and not like we usually were at all.” She smiles. “We both started laughing, and it turned into hysterics. It just seemed so ridiculous we’d ended up there, like that. So, we made a pact from that point onwards. Friends for ever, no more ridiculous attempts at being more.”
I focus on her eyes as she speaks, soaking in the obvious love she had for Josh.
Friend zoned.
I can’t imagine ever friend zoning Josh in a million years.
“Plus, I’d seen someone else I kinda liked at college,” Tiff says. “He was a lot more standoffish, and I liked that. I have a habit of chasing things I can’t have. Crazy infatuations. I had morning after syndrome with clients so many times after landing this job that it was insane. I felt like I was a kid in a toy shop, falling in love with my fantasies every single day.”
“Did you ever fall for any clients, for real?”
She shakes her head. “No. I just lived the fake version in my head until I got bored and another new client came along.”
I think back to the clients I had before Christmas. So many hot fantasies to dive into, and filth to unravel, and such a thump in the guts some mornings when I realised it was over.
“When was your last relationship?” I ask Tiff, and she turns back to the TV.
I feel her walls come up, just a little.
“The guy at college, actually. We were together for ages, and he, um. Yeah. It didn’t end well. It fucked me up so bad when he left, that I dreamt about him every night for over twelve months straight. Believe me, I thought I was going mad. I had a psychotherapist and everything, but no matter what happened, I couldn’t let it go. In some dreams I was even grabbing his fucking leg and begging him to speak to me.”
“Wouldn’t he speak to you?”
“No. Call it unresolved. That’s what the psychotherapist said. I hurt him, and he hurt me, and it was one big fucking mess.” She sighs. “But life is life, and look where I am now. If it wasn’t for Kian, and things hadn’t gone tits up, I wouldn’t be an entertainer, and neither would Josh. We wouldn’t be here, in Belgravia.” She nudges my leg with her foot. “And he wouldn’t have you.”
“It’s a bit early to put me in his category of life successes.”
“Nope,” she says. “The difference in him is already immense. He was almost as fucked up over Amy as I was over Kian, and that’s saying something.”
I feel so sorry for her. I hear the pain in her voice as she says his name.
Kian.
“You’ve never moved on? Never fallen for anyone else?”
“Not yet. I don’t really want to. I prefer fantasy, and filth, and not having the bullshit of reality pulling me down.” Her eyes meet mine again, full on, and there’s no doubt, she must have a queue of suitors a mile long, she’s so damn gorgeous. “Plus, I’m one of those people who thinks life happens as it should do. Things happen for a reason. And when the right guy shows up for me, I’ll know it. Maybe I’ll get the fairytale myth I’ve been dreaming of.”
I really, really hope she does.
“I’ve got a feeling you may have found yours,” she tells me. “Josh is the best guy in the world, I promise you. He’d never fuck you over, and he’s one hell of a stud in bed. He’s protective, and funny, and cool, and kind, and quirky as hell. And I’m beginning to sound like a dating profile advert, aren’t I?”
I laugh along with her, swatting her knee, because I don’t need convincing in the slightest. He’s already sold himself to me.
“You said he’s friend zoned,” I say. “But he’s also a super stud in bed. So, have you ever played it casual with him?”
“No,” she replies. “It would squick me out a bit, because he’s Josh, and I’m Tiff and we’re just friends.”
I’m still intrigued by the new society I’m a part of. I keep on pushing, trying to make sense of my own gut instincts.
“But what about Weston and Creamgirl? Would you play with him in that kind of role?”
She leans back against the cushions.
“Yeah. I guess so. I mean, being Cream isn’t being Tiff. That’s how I deal with morning after syndrome. It’s not me falling in love with the fantasies. I’m just living them out as Cream. They come and go like that. No big deal.”