Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
I laugh. I’m not sure if it’s too much wine, but that’s just…funny. ‘It doesn’t matter. He was a rebound fuck and that’s it.’ My explanation doesn’t seem to satisfy because they all carry on studying me with doubtful looks on their faces. I don’t even think I’m satisfied with my explanation, but it’s been four days and I’ve resisted the overwhelming temptation to call him. Besides, he hasn’t called me or made any further appointments, so that pretty much says it all. I’m moving on. I’m just massively pissed off with myself for relenting to his persistence, putting him in the position to drop me – and he has.
‘Oh, can we change the subject, please?’ I snap. ‘I’m out to enjoy myself, not to analyse the details of my rebound fuck.’
Tom stirs his pina colada. ‘You know, everything happens for a reason.’
‘Oh, don’t start with all that airy fairy crap!’ Kate chides him.
‘It does. I’m a firm believer in it. Your rebound fuck is a stepping stone to the love of your life.’ He winks at me.
‘And Matt was a four year stepping stone.’ Kate points out.
‘To stepping stones,’ Tom sings.
Kate joins the toast. ‘And shots!’
I finish my wine and raise my glass in agreement.
‘Yes, shots!’ Tom shouts, dancing off to the bar.
We sway down the road to our next destination, The Blue Bar. We make it past the doormen, although one does eye Tom’s shirt suspiciously. Tom and Victoria charge for the dance floor when they hear Flo Rida and Sia singing about Wild Ones, leaving Kate and I to get the drinks.
I order a round and take Tom and Victoria’s over, putting them on a ledge nearby under their instruction. The dancing is that serious; they could be some time. When I join Kate back at the bar, she’s talking to a man. She doesn’t know him. I can tell because she’s notched up her flirting by a few gears.
As I approach, she raises her voice over the music. ‘Ava, this is Greg.’
I smile, putting my hand out politely. He looks normal enough. ‘Hi, nice to meet you,’
‘Yeah, and you. This is my mate, Alex.’ He signals to a cute, dark haired guy next to him.
‘Hi,’ I shout.
He smiles confidently. ‘You wanna drink?’
‘No, thanks, I’ve just got one.’ Rule number one: Never accept drinks from strangers. Dan’s drilled it into me since I started going out.
‘Nah problem,’ He shrugs.
Kate and Greg move away from us, leaving me and Alex to make conversation. I didn’t really want this. I came out to be rid of men in general. Now I’ve been lumbered with one.
‘What do ya do?’ Alex asks me.
‘Interior design, you?’
‘Estate agent,’
I inwardly groan. I have an aversion to estate agents – cocky, over confident, gold plated salesmen. Alex is all of these, with the added bonus of a dodgy cockney accent.
‘Nice.’ I say, because he’s just lost all of my interest, not that there was any in the first place.
‘Yeah, got myself a few grand bonus taday. Give me a shit pit and I’ll sell it, nah problem. I’m living it large in Landon and laving it.’ Oh God, slime ball! ‘Ya fancy going out samtime?’
NO! ‘Thanks, but I’m in a relationship.’ It’s a good job Cockney doesn’t know me and my bad habit. I’m twiddling my hair frantically.
‘Ya sure?’ he asks, inching closer and stroking my arm.
I pull away, planning my escape. ‘Positive.’ I smile sweetly, looking around for Kate.
Within the space of time it takes me to raise my glass to my lips, Cockney quickly disappears from my line of vision. It takes me a few seconds to piece together the events that are unfolding before my eyes, but when I do, I’m appalled.
Jesse has Cockney in a firm grip around his neck and pinned up against a pillar.
Chapter 18
‘Keep your fucking hands to yourself.’ Jesse snarls at a poor, startled Cockney. He doesn’t know what’s hit him. I feel bad; he was only trying his luck. I would have dealt with it. Where did he come from? This is all I need on my night out, supposedly free from arrogant men. Or not so, it would appear. He’s left me for four days wondering what happened, and now he’s turned up, out of the blue, raging like a wild bull. Has he even calmed down from Tuesday?
‘I’m sorry mate. I didn’t mean any offence. Your girlfriend and I were just chatting about shit, ya know.’ Cockney explains, completely panicked.
Girlfriend? Oh! I want to advise poor cockney that I’m not even the girlfriend of the maniac pinning him up by his throat, but judging by Jesse’s obvious mood, I’ll decline at the risk of pissing him off further.
‘Jesse, let go of him, he wasn’t doing anything.’
Cockney looks at me gratefully. He knows I’m stretching the truth. A few more seconds, and I’m pretty sure I would have been throwing a drink over him. I gently stroke Jesse’s arm in an attempt to calm him down, ignoring his warm firmness. He looks like he could explode with anger. I’m pissed. How dare he turn up and trample all over my recovery night.