He nodded as if he understood. “What about friends, then?”
Friends?
No. Unfortunately I’d lost most of those . . .
* * *
I sipped at the glass of wine I’d poured myself. I was almost ready for my first night out with the girls in ages, and I was giddy with excitement. I couldn’t wait to catch up with them in Merchant City, have some good food and a few drinks, and party the night away. It felt like forever since I’d blown off some steam.
I slipped on the black stilettos that would take me from a small five foot three to a less small five foot six. As always I left my hair down in its natural waves, and I was glamming up the tight black miniskirt, black stockings, and black tank top I was wearing with a bunch of red and silver bangles and earrings. I grabbed at my glittery red clutch and turned to face the mirror, only to come out of my skin at the sight of my boyfriend, Ollie, sharing my reflection. He stood in the doorway, his eyes roaming over me. I hadn’t even heard him come in from work.
I tensed.
“You’re not going out wearing that,” he said quietly. “You look like a whore.”
Without another word he walked out of the room.
Hot with embarrassment and hurt, I changed out of the skirt with shaking fingers and pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans.
I didn’t say anything when I walked into our open-plan sitting room and kitchen to put my empty wineglass in the sink. I’d downed the remnants of it only moments ago. Fortification.
Transferring my purse, keys, and phone from my everyday bag to my clutch, I could feel Ollie’s eyes burning into my back.
Seconds later I heard him approach and then his heat hit me as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. He started kissing my shoulder, his lips trailing up to my neck.
Still mad, I stiffened. “Stop it. I need to leave.”
He gave me a squeeze. “Don’t go, babe,” he said, using his soft voice full of apology and placation. “I’ve had such a shit day at work. I could really use a quiet night in with my girl.”
I sighed and turned in his arms. “I’m sorry but I’ve had this night out with the girls planned for ages. I haven’t seen them in so long.”
His hold on me tightened, his eyes pleading. “Please, babe. You have no idea how bad it’s been.”
I chewed my lip. “I’ll leave early. I promise.”
Ollie’s arms instantly dropped, disappointment clear in his face. “It’s cool. Don’t bother. Your friends are important.” But the way he said it might as well have been “Your friends are more important than me.”
Feeling a mixture of guilt and annoyance, and knowing that if I didn’t stay in he’d be pissed off at me for days, I sighed. “I’ll text them to let them know I can’t make it.”
I was rewarded with a long, sweet kiss. “I’ll order in,” he said.
“Chinese,” I muttered as I pulled out my phone.
“Nah, I’m in the mood for Indian.”
Ugh, Indian. I sighed again and texted my friend Jennifer.
A few seconds later I received “You are fucking kidding me, right? Haven’t seen you in ages and then you cancel at the last minute? This friendship is a one-way street right now, and I’m done with it.”
Furious—at myself, at Ollie, and at Jennifer—I stomped back into our bedroom and ripped off my clothes, scrubbed off my makeup, and pulled on my pajamas in a huff.
Ollie had put on Top Gear and had gotten us a beer out of the fridge. I joined him on the couch, where he instantly pulled me into his side, but I couldn’t relax. I sat there worrying for the next few hours, scared I’d really, truly ruined my friendships.
Ollie’s phone rang and he answered it. I wasn’t really paying attention to his conversation, so it was a surprise to me when he got off the phone and turned to me. “Come on, we’re meeting Bill and the lads down the pub.”
Disbelief and anger coursed through me. “Are you kidding?”
Confused, Ollie shook his head.