Learning to Love Again - First 3 chapters

Hi everyone.

I thought I'd give you a little look at the first three chapters of my first novel, Learning to Love Again.

It's actually the fourth novel I have written but I decided to release it first as I enjoyed writing the characters of Luke and Ella so much and wanted to share them with you all. It also kicks off my Lessons in Love series of books which I think will eventually be a four book series. Book 2, Learning to Live Again is out now, I am currently working on book 3 and have book 4 planned out so unless a little more inspiration strikes, it looks like it will remain at the four books. Each story is able to be read as a standalone novel, the series is simply linked by location and that characters cross over and are mentioned in other stories.

Learning to Love Again is available now as an ebook on Amazon and also available to read for FREE on Kindle Unlimited.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09TYRXWBK/

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09TYRXWBK/

A little bit of blurb:

When Luke meets curvy, shy and nervous Ella, it's lust at first sight. However, she's not so sure and it takes another meeting to get even her name. But was it her real one? And can he figure out just what it is she's hiding?

A story about loss, abuse, escaping, how the right person can help restore your confidence & help you reach the future you deserve. A story about learning to love not only someone else, but yourself too.

Here we go, hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

Luke

It hasn’t been the best day. In fact, it’s not even been a good day or a fair day. Actually, I’ll be honest, it’s been an absolutely shit day.

I’ve been back in this place, this town, for just 72 hours and already I’m starting to think it’s something I’m going to come to regret. The people are still the same, still living in the same places they were when I left two years ago, the shops along the high street are near enough identical to before and honestly, it’s like nothing’s even changed.

Although I’m wrong, because that’s new, that definitely wasn't here before. It used to be a charity shop, always littered with donations outside, I gave them a tonne of my stuff before I left. A bright yellow sign with curly, forest green writing above tells me this new addition is the Sunshine Café. My nose and the delicious smells coming from inside tell me this is where I’ll be having lunch today. It seems that maybe I’m not the only thing that’s changed around here and at least the Sunshine Café won’t hold any bad memories for me.

The interior is all cool white walls and chairs, pale wood tables and gleaming glass counter and display cases. It’s classy, bright and amazingly, not too busy quite yet.

It’s then I see the most beautiful woman standing at the counter, long dark hair resting in gentle waves down her back, bright green eyes surveying the menu behind the counter and curves for days. She’s stunning, easily the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in years and just my type too. Hers is a face I don’t recognise though, must be new here, maybe even just passing through, and for the first time since I got back, this old town is starting to look up.

I know I still have friends here, hell, that’s the only reason I’m back, an old friend needing a favour and he’s just that type of friend I can’t say no to, the type of friend who was there for me two years ago when everything went to shit.

I wish this place didn’t hold the memories it did, I wish that I could just remember the good times growing up here, my friends, my family but it’s all overshadowed by one thing, one person and I know it’s only a matter of time until I come face to face with my past.

But for now I look at this woman just a couple of people ahead of me in the queue and think that I could definitely make some memories with her. I chastise myself, push the scandalous images from my mind and try to rein in my dirty thoughts. It’s hard though, no pun intended, as the fella in my boxers twitches happily at the sight of her clearly still contemplating her options, deep in thought, biting gently on her bottom lip. Her gorgeous, naturally plump pink lips that are doing nothing to stop those thoughts at all.

She eventually orders a salad and a smoothie, her voice delicate and sweet and I’m captivated as she gently tugs on a strand of her hair.

‘Can I tempt you with a cookie? Chocolate chip and cherry,’ a blonde guy with a ponytail says to her, appearing from the back with a basket full of giant soft cookies.

She declines politely but he’s definitely in salesman mode.

‘Freshly baked on site,’ he smiles.

‘No thank you, they look lovely though,’ she replies again and shuffles along the counter towards the till a little as the guy serving her continues making up her salad.

‘Even if I tell you I used extra chocolate chips in this batch for added delight? They’ll be extra sweet. A sweet treat for a sweet looking woman’.

He’s relentless, though his flirting needs work. She blushes at his words, a pale flush to her cheeks and a slight lowering of her face. It’s cute. I see her struggle to resist. Oh, he’s good, knows how to work a customer. I wouldn’t blame her if she gave in, I mean, I already know I’m ordering one, they do look delicious and I’m not even being given the full force of his sales pitch.

‘No thanks. Salesmen like you are the reason I’m not a size ten,’ she smiles cheekily as she looks up. That smile! If I wasn’t sold before, I am now, it lights up her whole face and it seems she’s recovered enough from her blushing and initial embarrassment to stand her ground.

‘No honey, I think that might just be because you don’t know your limits. You can’t blame other people for you being fat’.

I stand open mouthed at the slender redhead woman who just spoke. She’s next in line after the goddess I have been staring at since I entered and I’m instantly appalled. How can she say such things? How can she be so nasty? How can she not see what a glorious woman stands before her? But sadly, I know how, she’s just one of those women who think they’re so perfect with their slim figures and their group of clones, all parading around thinking they’re better than everyone else just because they’ve cut out sugar, are on some juice cleanse or seaweed detox diet. The thing is, they’re wrong. They’re not better and I wish that they realised that slim, skinny, small, slender, doesn’t always mean beautiful. Men like women in all shapes and sizes. There will be men out there that think that the redhead is the most stunning creature on the planet. Me, I think she’s ugly, but it has nothing to do with her looks. She’s actually very pretty. It’s her ugly attitude and ugly personality that makes her repulsive to me, and it takes everything I have not to say something.

It’s the look on the brunette’s face that stops me speaking, her smile fades instantly, the sparkle in her eyes goes out, her arms hug herself and she looks down as she opens her purse to pay for her lunch, shut down completely to the world around her. She looks so unhappy, it silences every thought I have about putting that woman in her place and honestly, all I want to do is put that smile back on her face.

I order my own lunch, a cheese and ham baguette and instead of heading home like I was intending, I take a seat a few tables over and subtly watch her. She picks at her salad and favours reading on an e-reader that she pulls from her bag instead. I can tell she’s not focussed on whatever it is she has in front of her though, her body language nervy and the way she bites her lip between eating shows me she’s still hurting from the vile comments of the redhead.

Sadly, the fact that said redhead has joined a couple of her equally slim and overly made-up friends at a table near her has probably not helped her to enjoy her lunch. It probably doesn't even matter that the three of them haven’t looked her way once and don’t even seem to notice she’s there. Then again from the topics of their conversation I can tell that they’re so self involved that they probably think they’re the only ones here. Eventually after eating less than half her salad and having taken several glances over to the group of glossy women who are laughing way too loudly and clearly looking to be the centre of attention, she gets up, drops her phone and e-reader into her bag, wraps her arms around herself, pulling her bag close and nervously leaves the café.

I’d finished my lunch and was only pretending to scroll through emails on my phone as I watched her, captivated by her face, her beauty and now I follow her out. I’m aware it’s a little bit creepy, but she’s mesmerizing and I think she deserves something nice, she looks far too sad and lost for me not to try to put that smile back on her pretty face.

‘You should have got a cookie,’ I say as I fall in step beside her not thirty feet from the door of the café.

Her head whips up to look at me and as I take a large bite out of my own cookie I notice her eyes aren’t just green but a stunning shade of emerald. They have brighter flecks in them too though, a sprinkling of gold which means they’re even more beautiful up close and it takes me a second to breathe again as I get lost in those eyes. Fuck, I could get lost in her, all of her. I quickly skim my gaze down her body, her gorgeous legs encased in dark jeans, a low-cut top revealing a hint of cleavage. She’s a good foot shorter than me too, but then at six foot five, I am freakishly tall and stand out in most crowds. I’m looking at her but she’s yet to say a word, instead she’s looked away and it’s only now that I’ve realised we’ve stopped walking.

‘I didn’t need a cookie,’ she says and her voice is soft, delicate, sweet, it’s like silk gliding across my skin, shit she’s waking up all kinds of body parts right now.

‘Oh, everyone needs a cookie,’ I say with a smile and hoping she’ll return it because she’s even more gorgeous when that face is lit up with pleasure. Pleasure, fuck, now I’m imagining what her face would look like as I make her come. Must stop it, shit, my cock twitches in my boxers again and I almost miss her answer as I start thinking about things to prevent a full-on boner. Public toilets. Sweaty changing rooms. That woman over there picking up a dog turd with the smallest of plastic bags. Okay, we have it under control, now back to what she said.

‘I don’t’.

‘Well I think you do, so I got you one,’ I say handing her a paper bag, her expression a mixture of confusion and surprise as her hand automatically takes the bag from me before she realises what she’s done and stands staring at it.

‘It won’t bite, that’s your job,’ I say sensing her nerves as she just stares at the paper bag, the café logo printed on the outside, the top folded over and sealed with yellow and green polka dot tape.

‘You did not buy me a cookie,’ she says suddenly seeming to really notice me as she looks into my eyes for the first time.

Gym socks! My grandfather scratching his arse! Raw sewage! Fucking hell, she’s gorgeous.

‘I did,’ I manage and wonder where my usual voice has disappeared to as that came out like I was thirteen again and my voice was breaking.

‘Hardly, it’s probably for your wife or girlfriend,’ she says trying to hand the bag back to me and I wonder for a second if that’s her way of trying to find out if I’m single. I hope she’s trying to find out if I’m single.

‘Turn the bag over,’ I smile as I hold up my hand showing her I have no wedding ring.

I watch her as she turns it over in her hands and reads what I wrote on the bag as I sat watching her in the café. Her nails are neat and painted in a pale lilac, so subtle that I hadn’t noticed before and I have a sudden vision of them running across my chest. What the fuck! Why can’t I keep my mind off of sex right now? I haven’t had this kind of reaction to a woman in a long time, a very long time.

‘A cookie for the beautiful brunette in the cafe?’

She looks at me and rolls her eyes as she reads aloud and I get to see that there’s more to her than the beautiful yet nervous woman I have seen so far. There’s a spark there behind her eyes and I instantly want to know how to coax her personality out because I just know it would be as amazing as she is.

‘What?’ I ask instead as I shrug in what I hope is a cute way, well, as cute as my massive frame can ever be.

‘Seriously?’

‘What? My words too cheesy? Or should that be chocolatey? Ah, too sweet maybe,’ I laugh as she bites her bottom lip again and her frown deepens. I’m clearly making her uncomfortable.

‘What’s your name?’ I ask hoping this is a little less flirty and she’ll see I’m not some random idiot trying to hit on her in the middle of the street. I mean, I am some random idiot trying to hit on her in the middle of the street, but I’m not a jerk, I’m a decent bloke. I really am.

She starts to walk, the bag still in her hand in front of her and I smile that she’s holding it almost like the woman that picked up that dog turd across the road a little while ago. I get a brief hint of her perfume, something light and floral and I want to run my nose along her neck, kiss my way up to behind her ear as I breathe her in.

‘I don’t tell strangers my name,’ she replies as her pace picks up a little.

‘I bought you a cookie, we’re hardly strangers, if you eat it now we would have shared desert together,’ I try, hoping humour will help and that she’s not going to suddenly get to a car, get in and drive away.

‘You didn’t put your name on the bag,’ she reasons, ‘You simply put L’.

It’s true, I did just sign it L, well, with a kiss too, I thought it was cute.

‘I’ll tell you my name if you want’.

‘It’s fine, I can guess,’ she replies, a little more confidence in her voice as it raises in volume to match the busier area in the high street that we’ve come to.

‘Oh yeah, so what do I look like to you then?’

‘Maybe a Liam, Leon, Luke, something short, punchy, direct. . .’

‘Sexy?’ I offer as she trails off.

‘Oh and clearly modest too,’ she continues with another eye roll, but I see the first hint of a smile before she shakes it away.

‘Come on, don’t make me have to guess yours too, I don’t even have an initial to go by’.

‘Make it up’.

Hmm, was that a little bit flirty, I hope it was, are we bouncing off each other here? Bouncing, her on top of me, her gorgeous tits. . . Stop! Must stop!

‘Okay,’ I say as I look at her and notice a blush creeping up her face, ‘Lily, Rose, Violet, something pretty and delicate like you’.

‘Nowhere near close,’ she says stopping abruptly outside the station.

‘You getting the train?’

Please don’t be getting the train, don’t tell me she’s not even from around here, she’s the only thing that has made my day brighter, she can’t be leaving.

‘Yes’.

Okay, she can be leaving. Shit. I need to know who she is, how I can talk to her again.

‘Without telling me your name or giving me your number?’

‘Yes,’ she says again, a smile playing on her lips despite the fact she still looks nervy.

‘Are you at least local? Tell me you’re from here?’

‘I’m from here,’ she says deadpan and I’m not sure if she’s just telling me that because I asked her to or whether it’s the truth. I pray it’s fact and watch her as she once again tries to hand me back the cookie.

‘I bought that for you, trust me, they’re good’.

She opens the bag and holds it towards me, ‘Eat a bit,’ she says simply.

I realise she thinks I might have done something to it so break off a piece and pop it in my mouth.

‘I didn’t put anything in it, on it, until just then, I hadn’t even touched it. I’m not some weirdo, I promise’.

I know that’s what some weirdo would say but the party in my pants is hoping that by telling her this she’ll place a bit into her mouth, that I’ll get to watch her up close devouring something so tasty, see the delight on her face as the sugar hits, the passion in her eyes as the chocolate melts on her tongue. Yep, maybe I am a weirdo, this is not me at all. I’m practically salivating over this woman who has barely said a thing to me, whose name I don’t know and who I know nothing about.

She raises one eyebrow at me and it’s a look that suits her so much, hints of sarcasm, mistrust and even a little fun all rolled into one and I somehow know instinctively that we’d get along. I can tell however, that there is absolutely no chance she’s going to tell me her name, let alone give me her number and so I put my faith in something higher mixed with a little more flirting and hope for the best.

‘Okay, okay, so you can remain Miss Anonymous, for now. How about we agree that if our paths cross again, you tell me your name at the very least?’

She hesitates and I see the wheels turning in her mind, her eyes on mine again now, a frown creating a tiny crease between her eyebrows that I want to reach out and smooth away, to tell her that I’m a genuinely nice guy, that I know how to treat a woman, that she can trust me.

‘Are you going to let me go into the station and then turn up on the platform in a few minutes claiming it as a second meeting?’

I can’t help it and I laugh as that very thought had just run through my mind, ‘You got me, I was going to do exactly that. How about same rules, but it has to be on a completely different day then? But you promise now that I get your name next time we meet’.

There it is again, that slight flicker of a smile teasing the edge of her lips up.

‘Fine,’ she says quietly, turns away and heads into use station.

‘Goodbye Lily, Rose, Violet,’ I say watching her arse as she leaves.

‘Goodbye Liam, Leon, Luke,’ she replies with a laugh and it’s the most delicious sound, like a bell ringing, angels sighing, fuck I’m screwed if she’s making me like this.

Although the sound of my name on her lips is even better than her laugh and I wonder what it would sound like all breathy and needy as she called it out in bed. That’s it, that’s done it, nothing is getting rid of this steel rod in my jeans now other than a quick, uncomfortable walk home and a good, hard session with my right hand.

CHAPTER 2

Ella

Oh. My. Word! Did that really just happen?

I’d seen him in the café, you couldn’t be off of it, he’s huge, well over six-foot, dark hair that’s a little grown out and a bit messy but looks like it’s meant to be that way, his strong jaw showing he’s not shaved for several days, but both the hair and beard seem a choice rather than lack of personal grooming. His eyes are blue, a rich, ocean blue that reminds me of the clearest tropical waters and if those added to the rest of his face wasn’t enough to make you think he wasn’t some kind of male model, the fact he’s toned, tanned and looks like he lives in a gym would do it. He’s one of those men who are so good looking I wonder if I can actually look directly at him.

Which is why I didn’t the entire time I was in the café. To be honest after being humiliated by that vile excuse for a human, I’d shuffled off to a corner and tried not to draw anymore attention to myself. I’ve not got a perfect figure like her and her friends, I’m curves not angles, soft and rounded instead of tight and hard. It’s not like I haven’t tried to be thinner, tried dieting. I’m a size 16 but I’m healthy. I exercise, I eat fruit and veg, I just like the food more than the exercising and admittedly, indulging in the odd sweet treat, probably more than I should, doesn’t help. So anyway, obviously, after my body being highlighted by her, I couldn’t have looked at him even if I wanted to. And I imagine every woman in there was ogling to their hearts content, he’s the epitome of ruggedly handsome, a perfect ten in the man stakes. I bet Miss Perfect and her band of clones couldn’t take their eyes off of him. Me, I simply nibbled at my salad and wished I had enough balls to have answered her back and then not only order a cookie but also to eat it right in front of her. I’d have really enjoyed it too, just to show her what she was missing by being on some vegetable juice, raw food only, one meal a day diet.

But that’s not me. I’m shy, timid and have lacked confidence my entire life. I hate confrontation and it was all I could do to not flee the place in tears. But I’m working on that, on being the me I want to be, on being happy with being me. That’s what coming here was all about, getting out, getting away, being free. It’s been two weeks though and I’m still fighting every day to get comfortable in my new surroundings.

I’m still holding the cookie as I stand on the platform now and I can’t help but smile a little. I half expect his cocky grin to appear next to me and part of me wants him to turn up, somehow talk his way around the fact it could be classed as a legitimate second meeting. I had almost turned around as I got to the stairs to the platform but I didn’t, I didn’t need to, I knew he was still there, I could feel him watching me. What I still can’t figure out is why. Why did he buy a cookie for me? Why did he follow me from the café and start a conversation? Why does he want my name and number? It’s not like I’m his type.

I don’t know if I’m really anyone’s type. Maybe Eddie’s, but lately I’ve not even felt that. I should feel bad that I’m getting all flustered by some random but gorgeous man in the street. I have a boyfriend, or at least, I think I do. We haven’t seen each other for just under a year. We’ve barely spoken as there’s no service where he is, he’s been on this research thing for so long now, the research trip that was meant to be for four months only. The one that is likely to be extended for a further three months at the end of it.

Eddie’s not happy I’ve moved out, it was a huge bone of contention when I told him I was doing it, that I’d gone for a job and gotten it. It had been a brief conversation when they’d been somewhere with phone reception and he’d complained I hadn’t even told him, that he would now have to find another tenant for the flat. He’d let out his room before he left and he wasn’t impressed he’d now have to find another. The fact that when he returned, I’d be living three hundred miles away had been almost an add on to his complaints. One I’d put to rest simply by telling him he’d not even told me he’d put himself forward for the research project, hadn’t so much as discussed it with me and that it had led to him currently living over ten thousand miles away in Antarctica. He’d had no comeback for that and had hung up on me and hadn’t called again for a couple of weeks when he’d called to apologise and things had returned to normal, well, as normal as a long-distance relationship gets.

I can’t think of Eddie right now, every time I think of him, I have conflicting emotions, a cross between missing him and still being angry at him for wanting to be so far away from me. But I’d never have stopped him, he loves his job, talking to me about it first might have been nice though.

As I board the train, my mind drifts back to Mr Tall, Dark and Sexy. Come on, I’m only human and for someone like that to talk to someone like me is an occurrence rarer than a fogbow, those colourless rainbows that are so pure, so magical that only a tiny percentage of the world will ever see one. I can’t say my thoughts at this minute are particularly pure though, he smelled divine, all manly, earthy and musky, the warm August sunshine only enhancing the scent as he walked beside me and for a brief moment, I wonder what it would have been like to give him my name and number and have him call, ask me out, to sit across from him in a restaurant and not feel uncomfortable and out of place. But that’s not something that would ever happen, not only because there’s Eddie, but also because women like me don’t get asked out by men like him and although he showed an interest today, I still can’t help feeling it was purely something to amuse him for a while, maybe to make the fat girl feel a bit better after the body shaming he must have been a spectator to.

He clearly has a sense of humour though and his eyes were kind, even if it was a pity flirt. There’s at least some kind of emotional intelligence there if he realised that maybe I needed a bit of a pick me up after the incident in the café.

Once I’m home I place the cookie, still in its bag on the side in the kitchen, put away the washing up from breakfast, put a load of washing on and settle down on the sofa with my laptop.

I have just two weeks now until I start my new job and I can’t wait. I’m a teacher. Just. I’m newly qualified and this will be my first actual job. I’ve completed my training, passed with flying colours, got great reviews and marks and the school I completed my training with back home actually told me I should apply for the role they had available for this coming year. But I had to get out, it was my time, my chance, and I took it. I’d finally had enough of putting off my life. I’m absolutely terrified too though. My training school was a two-form entry, infants only, a total of six classes in a sleepy little village in Cornwall, I’m sure there were less than twenty employees. This school is bigger. Much bigger. Spruce Park Primary is still only two form entry but runs right from Nursery to Year 6, just in teachers and teaching assistants alone that’s more staff than my old school, add on to that the Senior Leadership Team, the office and welfare staff, the lunchtime staff, the site staff and you’re talking over eighty people who I’m going to have to get to know. I know that the school had a lot of teaching vacancies to fill this year, a total of seven teachers were employed so at least I won’t be the only newbie I suppose. The head hasn’t been there long either, he was new last year and has apparently turned the school around. A firm but fair leader who wants the best for the school. They got a good in their recent Ofsted inspection and at both my visit and my interview, the children looked happy and engaged and the staff I met were friendly. They held interviews over the course of three days and I wonder if either of the other two newly qualified teachers I met on my interview day were successful. India and Millie had both been as nervous as I was and we’d gotten along well so I hope that maybe they could be the start of me making some friends up this way.

Lizzie, my flatmate is the only person I really know in London. She was braver than I was and went away to university and to London the first chance she got, as we’d both originally planned. We’ve been best friends since primary school and I pretty much lived at her house during my teenage years. We both had dreams of moving away but when things happened and my life fell further apart, I encouraged her with everything I had to go and live her life, to follow her dreams and although we cried buckets of both happy and sad tears when she got into university in London, we’ve kept in touch all these years.

When I finally got that job offer, when I finally worked up the courage to walk away, Lizzie was the first call I made. In fact, I was already packed up and sitting in my little car at the end of my road when I called her and told her I was coming to London and needed somewhere to stay. She’d said she’d be happy to have me stay for the weekend. When I broke down and told her I was finally doing it, that I was running, she’d cheered and told me I could stay as long as I needed and when I’d arrived on her doorstep just seven hours later, she’d already been out and bought a fold up bed, duvet and pillows. She doesn’t even care that all of it now lives in a corner of her living room behind a fancy screen.

So, I don’t have my own room, I have to make up a bed every night and I’ll probably never have a place to call my own, but it’s warm, it’s safe and it’s now home. Lizzie is the only one who’s ever truly known my secret, knows me, knows just how bad it’s been.

She bought her little one-bedroom flat a couple of years ago now with the help of her parents and she doesn’t care one bit that the place isn’t really big enough for the pair of us, all she cares about is that I’m there, that I got out, that I’m happy. And I hope I will be. Its only been two weeks, it’s going to take a while to settle. This is a huge change for me and I push myself a little more each day. I won’t go back though. This is my future. It has to be.

I’m just slicing up some veg for a stir fry when Lizzie gets home. She’s the children’s librarian at the local library and adores her role immensely.

‘How was your day?’ I ask as she hangs her bag in the little cupboard by the front door.

‘Amazing. I took a toddler’s reading group today and they were just adorable. Well, there was one mum who brought her ten-year-old along too, he wasn’t quite so adorable. He sat in his hoodie making fart noises throughout. You could tell the mum was getting totally embarrassed by him He took no notice of her when she told him to stop either’.

‘Oh God, what if that’s me in two weeks, a complete lack of control over my class,’ I say suddenly panicking about being in charge of thirty kids every day.

‘Els, you are going to be amazing. You know it, I know it and I promise you, the kids are going to thrive with you as their teacher’.

Lizzie has always been this voice of reason, the calm to my storm, someone who knows exactly what to say, what I need to hear.

‘Lizzie Davies, you are the best friend I could ever hope for. I love you’.

She grins at me and opens a bottle of wine.

‘So what did you get up to today? Let me guess, you bought stuff for your classroom, didn’t you? Pots, plants, decorative thingies’.

‘You know me so well,’ I laugh.

It’s where I had headed on the train this afternoon. Just into the main town to the bigger shopping centre to have a wander around and submerge myself in all things pretty. And stationery, lots and lots of stationery.

‘So what did you buy?’

I nod at the pile of bags at one end of the sofa.

‘Shit, that’s a pretty little load. You stress buying again?’

‘I had a bit of a bad time over lunch,’ I admit. ‘I kind of let retail therapy be my pick me up’.

She rifles through the bags as I cook.

‘These cushions are amazing,’ she grins turning to me and holding up one of the six star shaped cushions I found in an assortment of colours and with the bonus of wipe clean covers.

‘I know, I thought they’d be great in the reading corner’.

She’s unpacking my half tonne of stationery, girly pens, neon post it notes, push pins in the shape of butterflies, a planner in a shade of purple that I just had to have and still the items keep coming.

‘So what happened to make your lunch so awful? I mean, this here is a lot, even for your stationery obsession, I mean, you’ve bought envelopes with sea creatures on them, who even sends letters anymore?’

I turn away and take a deep breath.

‘I was body shamed by some woman in the café when I joked with the guy behind the counter that it was men like him offering me freshly baked cookies that stopped me being a size ten,’ I say quickly.

She’s behind me in seconds, her arms wrapping around me.

‘You’re beautiful. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise’.

She then sees the paper bag on the side where I left it when I got in and she peers inside.

‘Tell me that the reason you’ve not eaten this is because you already had one and not because of some ignorant cow’.

I hang my head before looking up at her. She breaks off a bit of the cookie and puts it in her mouth, ‘Fucking hell Els, it’s orgasmic, I don’t care who says what about any part of my body, this is a must have’.

I smile remembering the grin on the guy’s face as he bit into his own cookie. Had he found it orgasmic? What the fuck? Why was I all of a sudden thinking of him having an orgasm and what it might look like?

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, I erm, was just thinking about the cookie. I didn’t actually buy it’.

She gives me a quizzical look and so I turn the bag over in her hand.

‘Oh’ she grins.

‘Oh nothing’ I blush. ‘There was just this guy getting his lunch at the same time. I think he felt bad that I’d been humiliated and wanted me to feel better’.

‘Did you get his number?’

‘No. I have a boyfriend’.

‘Ugh, Els, you know I love you, but do you not think that you might just deserve someone who is at least in the same country as you?’

‘I like Eddie’.

I see the look she gives me, the ‘like isn’t enough’ look, but thankfully, she says no more about it. I know she’s not Eddie’s biggest fan, she hasn’t forgiven him for the whole Antarctica thing.

‘Was this cookie guy hot at least?’

‘He could thaw out the entire ice cream aisle in Asda just by walking through it,’ I laugh.

‘What was his name?’

‘I don’t know. Something beginning with L obviously but I refused to tell him mine and I never got his’.

‘You speak for long?’

‘From the Sunshine Café to the station, mainly him pity flirting with me. Trying to convince me to tell him my name. He was quite sweet though, other than the pity flirting obviously’.

‘Did it ever occur to you that he may have actually liked you?’

I laugh and turn to look at her, breaking a bit off the cookie she’s now nibbling at.

‘Fuck no. He’s off the chart fit. I barely register, in fact I’m probably the lowly servant with her fancy push pin who isn’t even good enough to mark how absolutely hot he is on the chart. I can only bow and hand my pin to some gorgeous model type who pushes it into the chart and rates him a perfect ten’.

‘You idiot’ Lizzie laughs. ‘One day a man will come along who will make you see just how amazing you are’.

I take the remaining quarter of cookie from her, hand her the spatula and take a bite. Okay, so both her and Mr Gorgeous are right, the cookie is out-of-this-world amazing, a giant American style chewy cookie full of so much taste that one bite isn’t enough, to be fair, I’m not sure one cookie is enough. In a taste race between the cookie and Mr Gorgeous, I think the cookie might even just edge it.

After dinner Lizzie washes up while I lug all my purchases into the corner where I hide them with the screen and promise myself that I won’t buy anything else for my classroom, well, not this week at least.

‘Oh, there’s this new bar opening in town Friday, we should go, maybe Saturday though, opening night will be mental’.

She’s looking at me knowing that I have never been one for going out much, never really got the chance back home.

‘I don’t know,’ I say honestly and then think of her former roommates. ‘You should go though, are Lilly and Tasha free?’

‘I want to go with you,’ she pouts. ‘It’s been so long since we’ve had a night out together and they have a dance floor. We can pull out our moves from school, you know the ones we used to practise in my bedroom until my mum shouted up the stairs for us to stop stomping around and making the downstairs lights shake’.

I smile at the memory of our truly awful dancing, ‘Liz, we’ve been to a bar or club together precisely three times, all three you left with someone you just met,’ I laugh.

‘I know, I know, but I’m looking for the one and you know me, I love sex. I can’t promise I won’t desert you for some sexy bloke with a nice arse, but I can promise that I’ll make sure you’re okay to get home before I go’.

She grins at me sweetly and I already know I can’t say no. I don’t want to either, I want this to be my new life, I want to be the kind of woman who goes out with her friends to bars and clubs.

‘Fine, but I’m not dancing, you know I don’t dance’.

‘You do dance, you just refuse to move that sexy arse of yours in public. I’ve seen you dancing around the kitchen when you cook, stop being aware of yourself and enjoy things babe’.

‘I’ll go out, I’ll drink, I’ll enjoy that. Dancing will just make me self-conscious,’ I say quietly. I know it’s true, maybe though, I can build up to it, maybe my new life in London will give me a new lease on life. But not yet, not this weekend.

We settle in to watch another episode of our latest addiction on Netflix but two episodes and another glass of wine later and Lizzie is dozing on my shoulder and I turn the TV off and instead pull up my new school website and look up the staffing page again.

The photo I supplied is not yet up on the site under Year 2 but a quick scroll shows that both India and Millie got jobs in Nursery and Year 4 respectively. They must have been quick getting their photos over. The other Year 2 teacher, a Year 5 and a Year 6 are also still blank but I take a while to look over the photos and learn some names and faces and then familiarise myself once again with the marking, behaviour and safeguarding policies. Just a little light reading before bed. It does eventually make my eyelids droop however and after Lizzie jerks herself awake as her head rolls back on the sofa, she heads off to bed and not feeling like bothering to make up the bed tonight, I just pull my duvet over me and close my eyes.

CHAPTER 3

Ella

The queue to get into Chasers is long and I’m about to protest, about to say to Lizzie that maybe we should skip the newly opened bar and head to a pub instead but before I get the chance to even open my mouth, she grins widely as she waves at the front of the queue. The security guy on the door is about six feet, tattooed and the last person I expect to see smile. But he does. At Lizzie. And it changes his whole face. He goes from brooding bad boy to giant cuddly teddy bear in an instant.

‘Hey, Liz baby,’ he says as we approach.

‘Hi Kyle,’ she grins sweetly as he pulls the rope across and we slip into the neon lit bar.

I look around at the place, it’s darker than I expected which I’m grateful for. I feel a little less self conscious knowing that I might be able to fade into the background, into a dimly lit corner, have a drink or two with Lizzie and just people watch when she heads off for a dance.

We head to the bar where Lizzie orders us both a cosmopolitan and we head to a small square table across the dancefloor. Lizzie is confident in herself, in her short royal blue dress and heels and her make-up perfect. I want to feel like that, like I know I look good and owning it. I have on a pair of black fitted trousers, a low V-neck vest top in a shimmery silver satin and a black blazer style jacket with large silver buttons. Back at Lizzie’s, getting ready together, looking through my clothes hanging in her wardrobe, a whole section of which she’d cleared for me by donating a load of things she no longer wore to the local charity shop, I felt comfortable with what I’m wearing. The outfit at least covers the bits I don’t like, but now we’re here and I’m seeing the number of short dresses, the exposed skin, the way the men are looking at the women dancing sexily, I feel out of place.

‘I think I’m a little under dressed for this place,’ I say close to Lizzie’s ear.

She turns and looks at me, a scowl on her face as she shakes her head.

‘Nonsense. Don’t you dare doubt yourself tonight. You look gorgeous. Your outfit, your hair, your make-up, everything. You’re sexy Ella. Own it’.

I smile nervously and look around again. To be fair there are a few women dressed like me, but they are all thinner than I am, their hair wild and free as they dance and even the larger women all look like they don’t care what anyone thinks, they’re dancing without a care in the world. I want to be like them. All of them. I want to be able to let go of my past and become the woman I always thought I would be.

‘Don’t let her pull you down, stop listening to her voice inside your head’.

I turn to Lizzie and I see the caring in her eyes. I know who she’s talking about. Lizzie knows, she’s the only one who knows but she doesn’t pry, she doesn’t try to get me to talk, she allows me to deal with it in my own way.

‘I’m not talking about that woman in the café either,’ she says seriously before finishing up her drink. But I already knew that.

A few hours later and it’s nearing midnight, Lizzie has just told me that she’s heading back to Kyle’s but they’ll drop me off at home as it’s on the way. She’d been dancing with some random guy who had his hand on her arse but she had kept looking over towards the door where Kyle had been standing keeping an eye on the crowds. Although, to be honest, he’d mainly been keeping an eye on Lizzie and I’d seen his fists clench as her dance partner held her and began to grind himself against her.

I had asked her about Kyle between her dances, when she’d come and sit with me.

‘Kyle? He’s just a guy I sometimes hook up with,’ she’d said casually.

From his reaction to another man’s hands on her, I guess he may like her a little more than casually and told her so. She laughed and told me they’re on the same page, it’s just sex. Really good sex, but just sex all the same. I wondered who she was and where my innocent friend Lizzie had gone. I knew though that she had always been the more sexual one of us, knew that she’d lost her virginity at sixteen as opposed to my nineteen, that she’d told me there was nothing better than the weight of a hard man on top of you while you came with him buried deep inside you and feeling him lose all control over you. I’d wanted that, wanted to know how that felt. I’m still not sure I do. She had no body hang-ups, no confidence issues and had no internal battles, still doesn’t. I wonder still how to get that mind-set, that total confidence in myself and not giving a damn what anyone else thinks. Maybe now I’m here it’s something I can work on. Yeah, I want that, I’ll get there. Get myself sorted, get confident. A little at the very least. Maybe. Hopefully.

I decline a lift and decide that confidence has to come from within. I can have a drink on my own, get home on my own, I can call a cab. After fifteen minutes of promising I’ll text her when I leave, then again when I get safely home, Lizzie leaves with Kyle and I head to the bar to get one more drink.

I’ve not had many but I’m feeling a little more relaxed than I was when we arrived and I can only put it down to the alcohol and the exposure to the place. It’s like a fear, the longer you’re exposed to it, the less scary it gets and so the longer I’ve been here and the fact that I’ve not been called any names or had anyone blatantly look disgusted at my appearance, I’ve relaxed a bit.

‘Well hey there’.

I assume the voice to my left is some bloke chatting up the blonde that was just served next to me.

‘I hope you’re not ignoring me Cookie’.

Suddenly I realise I recognise that voice and turn slowly towards the sound.

Shit! Oh my word, it’s him, tall, dark and sexy and tonight he’s looking even hotter. Grey trousers and a black shirt that has at least the top two buttons undone, a hint of a tattoo just visible on his chest, his hair styled, slicked back but still somehow messy and delicious and his eyes, well, they’re looking directly at me.

‘Hi’ I manage.

‘Hi. So, I’m going to go straight for it this time. I’m Luke. You are?’

‘Just getting drinks for me and my friend,’ I lie.

He smiles at me. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

‘Drinks? For you and your friend?’

I nod and he laughs.

‘What’s so funny?’ I ask feeling a little disturbed at why he’s laughing at me and folding my arms across my chest protectively.

‘Are you planning on delivering them to her and the guy she left with just now?’

I stare up at him, his blue eyes holding me there, rendering me speechless as I realise that to know Lizzie left with Kyle, he had to have seen me before this moment.

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out and instead I turn away and head to the ladies.

‘Shit, fuck, shit,’ I mutter to myself as I close myself in a cubicle and instantly send a text to Lizzie.

Ella: So I just happened to bump into café guy at the bar!!!!

Lizzie’s reply is instant. I expected it to be, she was probably only a minute or so down the road so far.

Lizzie: Ooh. Is he still sexy? If so, go for it.

Ella: Go for what? He’s still pity flirting with me, he doesn’t fancy me. He asked my name again though. I don’t want to give him my name. I ran away from him and am currently hiding in the toilets. I’m going to try to sneak out and get a cab.

Lizzie: Don’t run away. He’s approached you twice now. Use your middle name. Your middle name is awesome. Did you get his?

Ella: Luke. It suits him. Middle name? I like that idea. It’s not technically a lie, it’s my name, just not my first one.

Lizzie: If you take him back to ours, there are condoms in the top drawer of the left-hand bedside cabinet. ;)

Ella: I won’t be taking him anywhere. As I said, I’m going to try to sneak out.

Lizzie: Keep me updated.

Ella: I’m sure you have better things to do. :)

Lizzie: I’ll let him do me from behind, I can still use my phone that way.

Ella: Right, that’s it, I’m so not messaging you again now. I’m not having you message me when you have a bit of Kyle stuck in you.

Lizzie: I shouldn’t tell you that he’s currently got two fingers in me while we’re at traffic lights then?

Ella: La la la. Didn’t hear a thing. Enjoy. Goodnight x

I pat my face with a paper towel to remove the slight shine and then reapply a layer of lip gloss before wondering why I’m doing so if all I intend to do is sneak out the door and away into the night.

‘He doesn’t like you. It’s a bet to see who can fuck a fat bird’.

I look up as I exit the toilets to see a woman with long dark hair and deep chocolate colour eyes leaning against the tiles of the corridor that lead to the toilets.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh honey, don’t be disappointed, you know a man like him couldn’t really be interested in someone like you’.

I get to the end of the corridor and head through the doors and walk straight into someone’s chest. A hard, well-defined chest with a rock-hard stomach to match.

‘If you wanted to touch me, you only had to ask’.

Of course, it would be him, wouldn’t it?

‘You followed me to the toilet?’

‘Well, you went pale and ran away from me. I was just checking you were okay’.

I turn back, my heart pounding, as the woman who told me he was only talking to me for a bet comes through the door and grins at him.

‘Oh fuck no,’ he sighs, his eyes darkening at her instantly and as she glares at him, I make my escape.

I make it as far as the bar before he’s beside me again, placing a hand on my arm gently, stopping me in my tracks. He runs a hand through his hair causing between my legs to tingle and I suddenly wonder how many condoms in that drawer of Lizzie’s. Why am I thinking about condoms? I’m a joke to him. And I have Eddie.

‘I have a boyfriend,’ I say suddenly.

He watches me for a second before speaking again.

‘That’s nice for you. He’s a lucky bloke. But still, Cookie, I’d like to know your name and what the crazy brunette by the toilets said to you’.

‘Why?’

‘You’re sexy. You intrigue me. I want to get to know you and I want to know what my ex said that might make you think badly of me’.

I don’t know why I asked. I wish I hadn’t. I move past him and head for the exit.

‘Dance with me’.

Fuck, he’s following me.

‘I don’t dance’.

‘I bet you do, and I bet you’d feel good moving against me too’.

It’s hot in here. I can feel myself going red and I don’t like the direction this is going. Why is he tormenting me this way?

‘Please stop’.

He gently takes my wrist as we reach the bar and I stop.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

I can’t look at him and it’s not until he places a finger under my chin and turns my face to his that I look at him again.

‘Cookie?’

‘Raine’.

‘What?’

He looks confused.

‘My name. Raine’ I clarify.

‘As in the wet stuff?’

‘Yeah, but with an e on the end’

‘Are you sure? I think maybe I’ll stick with Cookie’.

He smiles at me and the look like he wants to eat me has eased off and been replaced with one of concern.

‘I have to go,’ I say quietly.

‘Can I get you a drink before you go?’

I shake my head at him to decline his offer and pull out my phone to order an Uber.

‘I have to go,’ I repeat.

He nods, ‘I’m going to guess my ex has made whatever it was that had you running away from me and into the toilet in the first place a hell of a lot worse. I’ll wait with you outside, make sure you get to the cab safely’.

I don’t answer, instead I let him follow me outside and I tuck myself against the building while I wait for the car.

‘I know you have a boyfriend, but we could be friends,’ he says suddenly. ‘I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you’.

I look down and feel my skin tingle as he stands looking at me.

‘It’s fine’.

‘It’s clearly not. I was just flirting with you. I meant no offense, I promise. I’m a decent bloke’.

I look at him, he looks genuine but I can’t trust it and somewhere in me has this surge of something, I’m not even sure what, but I suddenly know that I have to get it off my chest.

‘Look, I’m not offended okay. I just know that you’re only talking to me because you feel sorry for me and I don’t want that and . . .’

‘Woah, Cookie, you think I feel sorry for you? Did she tell you that? I’m going to stop you right there. I spoke to you after the café and again today because I wanted to. You’re gorgeous and I genuinely want to get to know you. You’ve told me you have a boyfriend though and so although I’ve shelved plans on making a move on you and hoping this night ends up with me and you kissing right here against this wall, I would still like to get your number and be friends’.

I feel myself blush and the image of him pushing me against the wall, his head dipping to my lips and his soft mouth covering mine flashes into my mind and refuses to leave.

The corner of his mouth twitches up as if he can read my mind, can see the vision of us I’m having and I look away again. I just can’t hold eye contact with him. He’s too sexy.

Thankfully my Uber pulls up at that moment and I escape towards the car.

‘Can I get your number?’

I turn quickly towards him, a sad smile on my face because I know I’m not giving him my number. Between my own insecurities and his ex, I just need to get away from him. And he knows it.

‘Same deal as last time? Next time we meet, I get your number?’

I nod quickly and climb into the car, not looking at him as he watches me as I disappear into the night.

****

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, please head over to Amazon where you can find both this ebook and my second novel too.

Thanks.

Riley x 

Learning to Love Again - First 3 chapters

Hi everyone.

I thought I'd give you a little look at the first three chapters of my first novel, Learning to Love Again.

It's actually the fourth novel I have written but I decided to release it first as I enjoyed writing the characters of Luke and Ella so much and wanted to share them with you all. It also kicks off my Lessons in Love series of books which I think will eventually be a four book series. Book 2, Learning to Live Again is out now, I am currently working on book 3 and have book 4 planned out so unless a little more inspiration strikes, it looks like it will remain at the four books. Each story is able to be read as a standalone novel, the series is simply linked by location and that characters cross over and are mentioned in other stories.

Learning to Love Again is available now as an ebook on Amazon and also available to read for FREE on Kindle Unlimited.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09TYRXWBK/

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09TYRXWBK/

A little bit of blurb:

When Luke meets curvy, shy and nervous Ella, it's lust at first sight. However, she's not so sure and it takes another meeting to get even her name. But was it her real one? And can he figure out just what it is she's hiding?

A story about loss, abuse, escaping, how the right person can help restore your confidence & help you reach the future you deserve. A story about learning to love not only someone else, but yourself too.

Here we go, hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

Luke

It hasn’t been the best day. In fact, it’s not even been a good day or a fair day. Actually, I’ll be honest, it’s been an absolutely shit day.

I’ve been back in this place, this town, for just 72 hours and already I’m starting to think it’s something I’m going to come to regret. The people are still the same, still living in the same places they were when I left two years ago, the shops along the high street are near enough identical to before and honestly, it’s like nothing’s even changed.

Although I’m wrong, because that’s new, that definitely wasn't here before. It used to be a charity shop, always littered with donations outside, I gave them a tonne of my stuff before I left. A bright yellow sign with curly, forest green writing above tells me this new addition is the Sunshine Café. My nose and the delicious smells coming from inside tell me this is where I’ll be having lunch today. It seems that maybe I’m not the only thing that’s changed around here and at least the Sunshine Café won’t hold any bad memories for me.

The interior is all cool white walls and chairs, pale wood tables and gleaming glass counter and display cases. It’s classy, bright and amazingly, not too busy quite yet.

It’s then I see the most beautiful woman standing at the counter, long dark hair resting in gentle waves down her back, bright green eyes surveying the menu behind the counter and curves for days. She’s stunning, easily the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in years and just my type too. Hers is a face I don’t recognise though, must be new here, maybe even just passing through, and for the first time since I got back, this old town is starting to look up.

I know I still have friends here, hell, that’s the only reason I’m back, an old friend needing a favour and he’s just that type of friend I can’t say no to, the type of friend who was there for me two years ago when everything went to shit.

I wish this place didn’t hold the memories it did, I wish that I could just remember the good times growing up here, my friends, my family but it’s all overshadowed by one thing, one person and I know it’s only a matter of time until I come face to face with my past.

But for now I look at this woman just a couple of people ahead of me in the queue and think that I could definitely make some memories with her. I chastise myself, push the scandalous images from my mind and try to rein in my dirty thoughts. It’s hard though, no pun intended, as the fella in my boxers twitches happily at the sight of her clearly still contemplating her options, deep in thought, biting gently on her bottom lip. Her gorgeous, naturally plump pink lips that are doing nothing to stop those thoughts at all.

She eventually orders a salad and a smoothie, her voice delicate and sweet and I’m captivated as she gently tugs on a strand of her hair.

‘Can I tempt you with a cookie? Chocolate chip and cherry,’ a blonde guy with a ponytail says to her, appearing from the back with a basket full of giant soft cookies.

She declines politely but he’s definitely in salesman mode.

‘Freshly baked on site,’ he smiles.

‘No thank you, they look lovely though,’ she replies again and shuffles along the counter towards the till a little as the guy serving her continues making up her salad.

‘Even if I tell you I used extra chocolate chips in this batch for added delight? They’ll be extra sweet. A sweet treat for a sweet looking woman’.

He’s relentless, though his flirting needs work. She blushes at his words, a pale flush to her cheeks and a slight lowering of her face. It’s cute. I see her struggle to resist. Oh, he’s good, knows how to work a customer. I wouldn’t blame her if she gave in, I mean, I already know I’m ordering one, they do look delicious and I’m not even being given the full force of his sales pitch.

‘No thanks. Salesmen like you are the reason I’m not a size ten,’ she smiles cheekily as she looks up. That smile! If I wasn’t sold before, I am now, it lights up her whole face and it seems she’s recovered enough from her blushing and initial embarrassment to stand her ground.

‘No honey, I think that might just be because you don’t know your limits. You can’t blame other people for you being fat’.

I stand open mouthed at the slender redhead woman who just spoke. She’s next in line after the goddess I have been staring at since I entered and I’m instantly appalled. How can she say such things? How can she be so nasty? How can she not see what a glorious woman stands before her? But sadly, I know how, she’s just one of those women who think they’re so perfect with their slim figures and their group of clones, all parading around thinking they’re better than everyone else just because they’ve cut out sugar, are on some juice cleanse or seaweed detox diet. The thing is, they’re wrong. They’re not better and I wish that they realised that slim, skinny, small, slender, doesn’t always mean beautiful. Men like women in all shapes and sizes. There will be men out there that think that the redhead is the most stunning creature on the planet. Me, I think she’s ugly, but it has nothing to do with her looks. She’s actually very pretty. It’s her ugly attitude and ugly personality that makes her repulsive to me, and it takes everything I have not to say something.

It’s the look on the brunette’s face that stops me speaking, her smile fades instantly, the sparkle in her eyes goes out, her arms hug herself and she looks down as she opens her purse to pay for her lunch, shut down completely to the world around her. She looks so unhappy, it silences every thought I have about putting that woman in her place and honestly, all I want to do is put that smile back on her face.

I order my own lunch, a cheese and ham baguette and instead of heading home like I was intending, I take a seat a few tables over and subtly watch her. She picks at her salad and favours reading on an e-reader that she pulls from her bag instead. I can tell she’s not focussed on whatever it is she has in front of her though, her body language nervy and the way she bites her lip between eating shows me she’s still hurting from the vile comments of the redhead.

Sadly, the fact that said redhead has joined a couple of her equally slim and overly made-up friends at a table near her has probably not helped her to enjoy her lunch. It probably doesn't even matter that the three of them haven’t looked her way once and don’t even seem to notice she’s there. Then again from the topics of their conversation I can tell that they’re so self involved that they probably think they’re the only ones here. Eventually after eating less than half her salad and having taken several glances over to the group of glossy women who are laughing way too loudly and clearly looking to be the centre of attention, she gets up, drops her phone and e-reader into her bag, wraps her arms around herself, pulling her bag close and nervously leaves the café.

I’d finished my lunch and was only pretending to scroll through emails on my phone as I watched her, captivated by her face, her beauty and now I follow her out. I’m aware it’s a little bit creepy, but she’s mesmerizing and I think she deserves something nice, she looks far too sad and lost for me not to try to put that smile back on her pretty face.

‘You should have got a cookie,’ I say as I fall in step beside her not thirty feet from the door of the café.

Her head whips up to look at me and as I take a large bite out of my own cookie I notice her eyes aren’t just green but a stunning shade of emerald. They have brighter flecks in them too though, a sprinkling of gold which means they’re even more beautiful up close and it takes me a second to breathe again as I get lost in those eyes. Fuck, I could get lost in her, all of her. I quickly skim my gaze down her body, her gorgeous legs encased in dark jeans, a low-cut top revealing a hint of cleavage. She’s a good foot shorter than me too, but then at six foot five, I am freakishly tall and stand out in most crowds. I’m looking at her but she’s yet to say a word, instead she’s looked away and it’s only now that I’ve realised we’ve stopped walking.

‘I didn’t need a cookie,’ she says and her voice is soft, delicate, sweet, it’s like silk gliding across my skin, shit she’s waking up all kinds of body parts right now.

‘Oh, everyone needs a cookie,’ I say with a smile and hoping she’ll return it because she’s even more gorgeous when that face is lit up with pleasure. Pleasure, fuck, now I’m imagining what her face would look like as I make her come. Must stop it, shit, my cock twitches in my boxers again and I almost miss her answer as I start thinking about things to prevent a full-on boner. Public toilets. Sweaty changing rooms. That woman over there picking up a dog turd with the smallest of plastic bags. Okay, we have it under control, now back to what she said.

‘I don’t’.

‘Well I think you do, so I got you one,’ I say handing her a paper bag, her expression a mixture of confusion and surprise as her hand automatically takes the bag from me before she realises what she’s done and stands staring at it.

‘It won’t bite, that’s your job,’ I say sensing her nerves as she just stares at the paper bag, the café logo printed on the outside, the top folded over and sealed with yellow and green polka dot tape.

‘You did not buy me a cookie,’ she says suddenly seeming to really notice me as she looks into my eyes for the first time.

Gym socks! My grandfather scratching his arse! Raw sewage! Fucking hell, she’s gorgeous.

‘I did,’ I manage and wonder where my usual voice has disappeared to as that came out like I was thirteen again and my voice was breaking.

‘Hardly, it’s probably for your wife or girlfriend,’ she says trying to hand the bag back to me and I wonder for a second if that’s her way of trying to find out if I’m single. I hope she’s trying to find out if I’m single.

‘Turn the bag over,’ I smile as I hold up my hand showing her I have no wedding ring.

I watch her as she turns it over in her hands and reads what I wrote on the bag as I sat watching her in the café. Her nails are neat and painted in a pale lilac, so subtle that I hadn’t noticed before and I have a sudden vision of them running across my chest. What the fuck! Why can’t I keep my mind off of sex right now? I haven’t had this kind of reaction to a woman in a long time, a very long time.

‘A cookie for the beautiful brunette in the cafe?’

She looks at me and rolls her eyes as she reads aloud and I get to see that there’s more to her than the beautiful yet nervous woman I have seen so far. There’s a spark there behind her eyes and I instantly want to know how to coax her personality out because I just know it would be as amazing as she is.

‘What?’ I ask instead as I shrug in what I hope is a cute way, well, as cute as my massive frame can ever be.

‘Seriously?’

‘What? My words too cheesy? Or should that be chocolatey? Ah, too sweet maybe,’ I laugh as she bites her bottom lip again and her frown deepens. I’m clearly making her uncomfortable.

‘What’s your name?’ I ask hoping this is a little less flirty and she’ll see I’m not some random idiot trying to hit on her in the middle of the street. I mean, I am some random idiot trying to hit on her in the middle of the street, but I’m not a jerk, I’m a decent bloke. I really am.

She starts to walk, the bag still in her hand in front of her and I smile that she’s holding it almost like the woman that picked up that dog turd across the road a little while ago. I get a brief hint of her perfume, something light and floral and I want to run my nose along her neck, kiss my way up to behind her ear as I breathe her in.

‘I don’t tell strangers my name,’ she replies as her pace picks up a little.

‘I bought you a cookie, we’re hardly strangers, if you eat it now we would have shared desert together,’ I try, hoping humour will help and that she’s not going to suddenly get to a car, get in and drive away.

‘You didn’t put your name on the bag,’ she reasons, ‘You simply put L’.

It’s true, I did just sign it L, well, with a kiss too, I thought it was cute.

‘I’ll tell you my name if you want’.

‘It’s fine, I can guess,’ she replies, a little more confidence in her voice as it raises in volume to match the busier area in the high street that we’ve come to.

‘Oh yeah, so what do I look like to you then?’

‘Maybe a Liam, Leon, Luke, something short, punchy, direct. . .’

‘Sexy?’ I offer as she trails off.

‘Oh and clearly modest too,’ she continues with another eye roll, but I see the first hint of a smile before she shakes it away.

‘Come on, don’t make me have to guess yours too, I don’t even have an initial to go by’.

‘Make it up’.

Hmm, was that a little bit flirty, I hope it was, are we bouncing off each other here? Bouncing, her on top of me, her gorgeous tits. . . Stop! Must stop!

‘Okay,’ I say as I look at her and notice a blush creeping up her face, ‘Lily, Rose, Violet, something pretty and delicate like you’.

‘Nowhere near close,’ she says stopping abruptly outside the station.

‘You getting the train?’

Please don’t be getting the train, don’t tell me she’s not even from around here, she’s the only thing that has made my day brighter, she can’t be leaving.

‘Yes’.

Okay, she can be leaving. Shit. I need to know who she is, how I can talk to her again.

‘Without telling me your name or giving me your number?’

‘Yes,’ she says again, a smile playing on her lips despite the fact she still looks nervy.

‘Are you at least local? Tell me you’re from here?’

‘I’m from here,’ she says deadpan and I’m not sure if she’s just telling me that because I asked her to or whether it’s the truth. I pray it’s fact and watch her as she once again tries to hand me back the cookie.

‘I bought that for you, trust me, they’re good’.

She opens the bag and holds it towards me, ‘Eat a bit,’ she says simply.

I realise she thinks I might have done something to it so break off a piece and pop it in my mouth.

‘I didn’t put anything in it, on it, until just then, I hadn’t even touched it. I’m not some weirdo, I promise’.

I know that’s what some weirdo would say but the party in my pants is hoping that by telling her this she’ll place a bit into her mouth, that I’ll get to watch her up close devouring something so tasty, see the delight on her face as the sugar hits, the passion in her eyes as the chocolate melts on her tongue. Yep, maybe I am a weirdo, this is not me at all. I’m practically salivating over this woman who has barely said a thing to me, whose name I don’t know and who I know nothing about.

She raises one eyebrow at me and it’s a look that suits her so much, hints of sarcasm, mistrust and even a little fun all rolled into one and I somehow know instinctively that we’d get along. I can tell however, that there is absolutely no chance she’s going to tell me her name, let alone give me her number and so I put my faith in something higher mixed with a little more flirting and hope for the best.

‘Okay, okay, so you can remain Miss Anonymous, for now. How about we agree that if our paths cross again, you tell me your name at the very least?’

She hesitates and I see the wheels turning in her mind, her eyes on mine again now, a frown creating a tiny crease between her eyebrows that I want to reach out and smooth away, to tell her that I’m a genuinely nice guy, that I know how to treat a woman, that she can trust me.

‘Are you going to let me go into the station and then turn up on the platform in a few minutes claiming it as a second meeting?’

I can’t help it and I laugh as that very thought had just run through my mind, ‘You got me, I was going to do exactly that. How about same rules, but it has to be on a completely different day then? But you promise now that I get your name next time we meet’.

There it is again, that slight flicker of a smile teasing the edge of her lips up.

‘Fine,’ she says quietly, turns away and heads into use station.

‘Goodbye Lily, Rose, Violet,’ I say watching her arse as she leaves.

‘Goodbye Liam, Leon, Luke,’ she replies with a laugh and it’s the most delicious sound, like a bell ringing, angels sighing, fuck I’m screwed if she’s making me like this.

Although the sound of my name on her lips is even better than her laugh and I wonder what it would sound like all breathy and needy as she called it out in bed. That’s it, that’s done it, nothing is getting rid of this steel rod in my jeans now other than a quick, uncomfortable walk home and a good, hard session with my right hand.

CHAPTER 2

Ella

Oh. My. Word! Did that really just happen?

I’d seen him in the café, you couldn’t be off of it, he’s huge, well over six-foot, dark hair that’s a little grown out and a bit messy but looks like it’s meant to be that way, his strong jaw showing he’s not shaved for several days, but both the hair and beard seem a choice rather than lack of personal grooming. His eyes are blue, a rich, ocean blue that reminds me of the clearest tropical waters and if those added to the rest of his face wasn’t enough to make you think he wasn’t some kind of male model, the fact he’s toned, tanned and looks like he lives in a gym would do it. He’s one of those men who are so good looking I wonder if I can actually look directly at him.

Which is why I didn’t the entire time I was in the café. To be honest after being humiliated by that vile excuse for a human, I’d shuffled off to a corner and tried not to draw anymore attention to myself. I’ve not got a perfect figure like her and her friends, I’m curves not angles, soft and rounded instead of tight and hard. It’s not like I haven’t tried to be thinner, tried dieting. I’m a size 16 but I’m healthy. I exercise, I eat fruit and veg, I just like the food more than the exercising and admittedly, indulging in the odd sweet treat, probably more than I should, doesn’t help. So anyway, obviously, after my body being highlighted by her, I couldn’t have looked at him even if I wanted to. And I imagine every woman in there was ogling to their hearts content, he’s the epitome of ruggedly handsome, a perfect ten in the man stakes. I bet Miss Perfect and her band of clones couldn’t take their eyes off of him. Me, I simply nibbled at my salad and wished I had enough balls to have answered her back and then not only order a cookie but also to eat it right in front of her. I’d have really enjoyed it too, just to show her what she was missing by being on some vegetable juice, raw food only, one meal a day diet.

But that’s not me. I’m shy, timid and have lacked confidence my entire life. I hate confrontation and it was all I could do to not flee the place in tears. But I’m working on that, on being the me I want to be, on being happy with being me. That’s what coming here was all about, getting out, getting away, being free. It’s been two weeks though and I’m still fighting every day to get comfortable in my new surroundings.

I’m still holding the cookie as I stand on the platform now and I can’t help but smile a little. I half expect his cocky grin to appear next to me and part of me wants him to turn up, somehow talk his way around the fact it could be classed as a legitimate second meeting. I had almost turned around as I got to the stairs to the platform but I didn’t, I didn’t need to, I knew he was still there, I could feel him watching me. What I still can’t figure out is why. Why did he buy a cookie for me? Why did he follow me from the café and start a conversation? Why does he want my name and number? It’s not like I’m his type.

I don’t know if I’m really anyone’s type. Maybe Eddie’s, but lately I’ve not even felt that. I should feel bad that I’m getting all flustered by some random but gorgeous man in the street. I have a boyfriend, or at least, I think I do. We haven’t seen each other for just under a year. We’ve barely spoken as there’s no service where he is, he’s been on this research thing for so long now, the research trip that was meant to be for four months only. The one that is likely to be extended for a further three months at the end of it.

Eddie’s not happy I’ve moved out, it was a huge bone of contention when I told him I was doing it, that I’d gone for a job and gotten it. It had been a brief conversation when they’d been somewhere with phone reception and he’d complained I hadn’t even told him, that he would now have to find another tenant for the flat. He’d let out his room before he left and he wasn’t impressed he’d now have to find another. The fact that when he returned, I’d be living three hundred miles away had been almost an add on to his complaints. One I’d put to rest simply by telling him he’d not even told me he’d put himself forward for the research project, hadn’t so much as discussed it with me and that it had led to him currently living over ten thousand miles away in Antarctica. He’d had no comeback for that and had hung up on me and hadn’t called again for a couple of weeks when he’d called to apologise and things had returned to normal, well, as normal as a long-distance relationship gets.

I can’t think of Eddie right now, every time I think of him, I have conflicting emotions, a cross between missing him and still being angry at him for wanting to be so far away from me. But I’d never have stopped him, he loves his job, talking to me about it first might have been nice though.

As I board the train, my mind drifts back to Mr Tall, Dark and Sexy. Come on, I’m only human and for someone like that to talk to someone like me is an occurrence rarer than a fogbow, those colourless rainbows that are so pure, so magical that only a tiny percentage of the world will ever see one. I can’t say my thoughts at this minute are particularly pure though, he smelled divine, all manly, earthy and musky, the warm August sunshine only enhancing the scent as he walked beside me and for a brief moment, I wonder what it would have been like to give him my name and number and have him call, ask me out, to sit across from him in a restaurant and not feel uncomfortable and out of place. But that’s not something that would ever happen, not only because there’s Eddie, but also because women like me don’t get asked out by men like him and although he showed an interest today, I still can’t help feeling it was purely something to amuse him for a while, maybe to make the fat girl feel a bit better after the body shaming he must have been a spectator to.

He clearly has a sense of humour though and his eyes were kind, even if it was a pity flirt. There’s at least some kind of emotional intelligence there if he realised that maybe I needed a bit of a pick me up after the incident in the café.

Once I’m home I place the cookie, still in its bag on the side in the kitchen, put away the washing up from breakfast, put a load of washing on and settle down on the sofa with my laptop.

I have just two weeks now until I start my new job and I can’t wait. I’m a teacher. Just. I’m newly qualified and this will be my first actual job. I’ve completed my training, passed with flying colours, got great reviews and marks and the school I completed my training with back home actually told me I should apply for the role they had available for this coming year. But I had to get out, it was my time, my chance, and I took it. I’d finally had enough of putting off my life. I’m absolutely terrified too though. My training school was a two-form entry, infants only, a total of six classes in a sleepy little village in Cornwall, I’m sure there were less than twenty employees. This school is bigger. Much bigger. Spruce Park Primary is still only two form entry but runs right from Nursery to Year 6, just in teachers and teaching assistants alone that’s more staff than my old school, add on to that the Senior Leadership Team, the office and welfare staff, the lunchtime staff, the site staff and you’re talking over eighty people who I’m going to have to get to know. I know that the school had a lot of teaching vacancies to fill this year, a total of seven teachers were employed so at least I won’t be the only newbie I suppose. The head hasn’t been there long either, he was new last year and has apparently turned the school around. A firm but fair leader who wants the best for the school. They got a good in their recent Ofsted inspection and at both my visit and my interview, the children looked happy and engaged and the staff I met were friendly. They held interviews over the course of three days and I wonder if either of the other two newly qualified teachers I met on my interview day were successful. India and Millie had both been as nervous as I was and we’d gotten along well so I hope that maybe they could be the start of me making some friends up this way.

Lizzie, my flatmate is the only person I really know in London. She was braver than I was and went away to university and to London the first chance she got, as we’d both originally planned. We’ve been best friends since primary school and I pretty much lived at her house during my teenage years. We both had dreams of moving away but when things happened and my life fell further apart, I encouraged her with everything I had to go and live her life, to follow her dreams and although we cried buckets of both happy and sad tears when she got into university in London, we’ve kept in touch all these years.

When I finally got that job offer, when I finally worked up the courage to walk away, Lizzie was the first call I made. In fact, I was already packed up and sitting in my little car at the end of my road when I called her and told her I was coming to London and needed somewhere to stay. She’d said she’d be happy to have me stay for the weekend. When I broke down and told her I was finally doing it, that I was running, she’d cheered and told me I could stay as long as I needed and when I’d arrived on her doorstep just seven hours later, she’d already been out and bought a fold up bed, duvet and pillows. She doesn’t even care that all of it now lives in a corner of her living room behind a fancy screen.

So, I don’t have my own room, I have to make up a bed every night and I’ll probably never have a place to call my own, but it’s warm, it’s safe and it’s now home. Lizzie is the only one who’s ever truly known my secret, knows me, knows just how bad it’s been.

She bought her little one-bedroom flat a couple of years ago now with the help of her parents and she doesn’t care one bit that the place isn’t really big enough for the pair of us, all she cares about is that I’m there, that I got out, that I’m happy. And I hope I will be. Its only been two weeks, it’s going to take a while to settle. This is a huge change for me and I push myself a little more each day. I won’t go back though. This is my future. It has to be.

I’m just slicing up some veg for a stir fry when Lizzie gets home. She’s the children’s librarian at the local library and adores her role immensely.

‘How was your day?’ I ask as she hangs her bag in the little cupboard by the front door.

‘Amazing. I took a toddler’s reading group today and they were just adorable. Well, there was one mum who brought her ten-year-old along too, he wasn’t quite so adorable. He sat in his hoodie making fart noises throughout. You could tell the mum was getting totally embarrassed by him He took no notice of her when she told him to stop either’.

‘Oh God, what if that’s me in two weeks, a complete lack of control over my class,’ I say suddenly panicking about being in charge of thirty kids every day.

‘Els, you are going to be amazing. You know it, I know it and I promise you, the kids are going to thrive with you as their teacher’.

Lizzie has always been this voice of reason, the calm to my storm, someone who knows exactly what to say, what I need to hear.

‘Lizzie Davies, you are the best friend I could ever hope for. I love you’.

She grins at me and opens a bottle of wine.

‘So what did you get up to today? Let me guess, you bought stuff for your classroom, didn’t you? Pots, plants, decorative thingies’.

‘You know me so well,’ I laugh.

It’s where I had headed on the train this afternoon. Just into the main town to the bigger shopping centre to have a wander around and submerge myself in all things pretty. And stationery, lots and lots of stationery.

‘So what did you buy?’

I nod at the pile of bags at one end of the sofa.

‘Shit, that’s a pretty little load. You stress buying again?’

‘I had a bit of a bad time over lunch,’ I admit. ‘I kind of let retail therapy be my pick me up’.

She rifles through the bags as I cook.

‘These cushions are amazing,’ she grins turning to me and holding up one of the six star shaped cushions I found in an assortment of colours and with the bonus of wipe clean covers.

‘I know, I thought they’d be great in the reading corner’.

She’s unpacking my half tonne of stationery, girly pens, neon post it notes, push pins in the shape of butterflies, a planner in a shade of purple that I just had to have and still the items keep coming.

‘So what happened to make your lunch so awful? I mean, this here is a lot, even for your stationery obsession, I mean, you’ve bought envelopes with sea creatures on them, who even sends letters anymore?’

I turn away and take a deep breath.

‘I was body shamed by some woman in the café when I joked with the guy behind the counter that it was men like him offering me freshly baked cookies that stopped me being a size ten,’ I say quickly.

She’s behind me in seconds, her arms wrapping around me.

‘You’re beautiful. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise’.

She then sees the paper bag on the side where I left it when I got in and she peers inside.

‘Tell me that the reason you’ve not eaten this is because you already had one and not because of some ignorant cow’.

I hang my head before looking up at her. She breaks off a bit of the cookie and puts it in her mouth, ‘Fucking hell Els, it’s orgasmic, I don’t care who says what about any part of my body, this is a must have’.

I smile remembering the grin on the guy’s face as he bit into his own cookie. Had he found it orgasmic? What the fuck? Why was I all of a sudden thinking of him having an orgasm and what it might look like?

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, I erm, was just thinking about the cookie. I didn’t actually buy it’.

She gives me a quizzical look and so I turn the bag over in her hand.

‘Oh’ she grins.

‘Oh nothing’ I blush. ‘There was just this guy getting his lunch at the same time. I think he felt bad that I’d been humiliated and wanted me to feel better’.

‘Did you get his number?’

‘No. I have a boyfriend’.

‘Ugh, Els, you know I love you, but do you not think that you might just deserve someone who is at least in the same country as you?’

‘I like Eddie’.

I see the look she gives me, the ‘like isn’t enough’ look, but thankfully, she says no more about it. I know she’s not Eddie’s biggest fan, she hasn’t forgiven him for the whole Antarctica thing.

‘Was this cookie guy hot at least?’

‘He could thaw out the entire ice cream aisle in Asda just by walking through it,’ I laugh.

‘What was his name?’

‘I don’t know. Something beginning with L obviously but I refused to tell him mine and I never got his’.

‘You speak for long?’

‘From the Sunshine Café to the station, mainly him pity flirting with me. Trying to convince me to tell him my name. He was quite sweet though, other than the pity flirting obviously’.

‘Did it ever occur to you that he may have actually liked you?’

I laugh and turn to look at her, breaking a bit off the cookie she’s now nibbling at.

‘Fuck no. He’s off the chart fit. I barely register, in fact I’m probably the lowly servant with her fancy push pin who isn’t even good enough to mark how absolutely hot he is on the chart. I can only bow and hand my pin to some gorgeous model type who pushes it into the chart and rates him a perfect ten’.

‘You idiot’ Lizzie laughs. ‘One day a man will come along who will make you see just how amazing you are’.

I take the remaining quarter of cookie from her, hand her the spatula and take a bite. Okay, so both her and Mr Gorgeous are right, the cookie is out-of-this-world amazing, a giant American style chewy cookie full of so much taste that one bite isn’t enough, to be fair, I’m not sure one cookie is enough. In a taste race between the cookie and Mr Gorgeous, I think the cookie might even just edge it.

After dinner Lizzie washes up while I lug all my purchases into the corner where I hide them with the screen and promise myself that I won’t buy anything else for my classroom, well, not this week at least.

‘Oh, there’s this new bar opening in town Friday, we should go, maybe Saturday though, opening night will be mental’.

She’s looking at me knowing that I have never been one for going out much, never really got the chance back home.

‘I don’t know,’ I say honestly and then think of her former roommates. ‘You should go though, are Lilly and Tasha free?’

‘I want to go with you,’ she pouts. ‘It’s been so long since we’ve had a night out together and they have a dance floor. We can pull out our moves from school, you know the ones we used to practise in my bedroom until my mum shouted up the stairs for us to stop stomping around and making the downstairs lights shake’.

I smile at the memory of our truly awful dancing, ‘Liz, we’ve been to a bar or club together precisely three times, all three you left with someone you just met,’ I laugh.

‘I know, I know, but I’m looking for the one and you know me, I love sex. I can’t promise I won’t desert you for some sexy bloke with a nice arse, but I can promise that I’ll make sure you’re okay to get home before I go’.

She grins at me sweetly and I already know I can’t say no. I don’t want to either, I want this to be my new life, I want to be the kind of woman who goes out with her friends to bars and clubs.

‘Fine, but I’m not dancing, you know I don’t dance’.

‘You do dance, you just refuse to move that sexy arse of yours in public. I’ve seen you dancing around the kitchen when you cook, stop being aware of yourself and enjoy things babe’.

‘I’ll go out, I’ll drink, I’ll enjoy that. Dancing will just make me self-conscious,’ I say quietly. I know it’s true, maybe though, I can build up to it, maybe my new life in London will give me a new lease on life. But not yet, not this weekend.

We settle in to watch another episode of our latest addiction on Netflix but two episodes and another glass of wine later and Lizzie is dozing on my shoulder and I turn the TV off and instead pull up my new school website and look up the staffing page again.

The photo I supplied is not yet up on the site under Year 2 but a quick scroll shows that both India and Millie got jobs in Nursery and Year 4 respectively. They must have been quick getting their photos over. The other Year 2 teacher, a Year 5 and a Year 6 are also still blank but I take a while to look over the photos and learn some names and faces and then familiarise myself once again with the marking, behaviour and safeguarding policies. Just a little light reading before bed. It does eventually make my eyelids droop however and after Lizzie jerks herself awake as her head rolls back on the sofa, she heads off to bed and not feeling like bothering to make up the bed tonight, I just pull my duvet over me and close my eyes.

CHAPTER 3

Ella

The queue to get into Chasers is long and I’m about to protest, about to say to Lizzie that maybe we should skip the newly opened bar and head to a pub instead but before I get the chance to even open my mouth, she grins widely as she waves at the front of the queue. The security guy on the door is about six feet, tattooed and the last person I expect to see smile. But he does. At Lizzie. And it changes his whole face. He goes from brooding bad boy to giant cuddly teddy bear in an instant.

‘Hey, Liz baby,’ he says as we approach.

‘Hi Kyle,’ she grins sweetly as he pulls the rope across and we slip into the neon lit bar.

I look around at the place, it’s darker than I expected which I’m grateful for. I feel a little less self conscious knowing that I might be able to fade into the background, into a dimly lit corner, have a drink or two with Lizzie and just people watch when she heads off for a dance.

We head to the bar where Lizzie orders us both a cosmopolitan and we head to a small square table across the dancefloor. Lizzie is confident in herself, in her short royal blue dress and heels and her make-up perfect. I want to feel like that, like I know I look good and owning it. I have on a pair of black fitted trousers, a low V-neck vest top in a shimmery silver satin and a black blazer style jacket with large silver buttons. Back at Lizzie’s, getting ready together, looking through my clothes hanging in her wardrobe, a whole section of which she’d cleared for me by donating a load of things she no longer wore to the local charity shop, I felt comfortable with what I’m wearing. The outfit at least covers the bits I don’t like, but now we’re here and I’m seeing the number of short dresses, the exposed skin, the way the men are looking at the women dancing sexily, I feel out of place.

‘I think I’m a little under dressed for this place,’ I say close to Lizzie’s ear.

She turns and looks at me, a scowl on her face as she shakes her head.

‘Nonsense. Don’t you dare doubt yourself tonight. You look gorgeous. Your outfit, your hair, your make-up, everything. You’re sexy Ella. Own it’.

I smile nervously and look around again. To be fair there are a few women dressed like me, but they are all thinner than I am, their hair wild and free as they dance and even the larger women all look like they don’t care what anyone thinks, they’re dancing without a care in the world. I want to be like them. All of them. I want to be able to let go of my past and become the woman I always thought I would be.

‘Don’t let her pull you down, stop listening to her voice inside your head’.

I turn to Lizzie and I see the caring in her eyes. I know who she’s talking about. Lizzie knows, she’s the only one who knows but she doesn’t pry, she doesn’t try to get me to talk, she allows me to deal with it in my own way.

‘I’m not talking about that woman in the café either,’ she says seriously before finishing up her drink. But I already knew that.

A few hours later and it’s nearing midnight, Lizzie has just told me that she’s heading back to Kyle’s but they’ll drop me off at home as it’s on the way. She’d been dancing with some random guy who had his hand on her arse but she had kept looking over towards the door where Kyle had been standing keeping an eye on the crowds. Although, to be honest, he’d mainly been keeping an eye on Lizzie and I’d seen his fists clench as her dance partner held her and began to grind himself against her.

I had asked her about Kyle between her dances, when she’d come and sit with me.

‘Kyle? He’s just a guy I sometimes hook up with,’ she’d said casually.

From his reaction to another man’s hands on her, I guess he may like her a little more than casually and told her so. She laughed and told me they’re on the same page, it’s just sex. Really good sex, but just sex all the same. I wondered who she was and where my innocent friend Lizzie had gone. I knew though that she had always been the more sexual one of us, knew that she’d lost her virginity at sixteen as opposed to my nineteen, that she’d told me there was nothing better than the weight of a hard man on top of you while you came with him buried deep inside you and feeling him lose all control over you. I’d wanted that, wanted to know how that felt. I’m still not sure I do. She had no body hang-ups, no confidence issues and had no internal battles, still doesn’t. I wonder still how to get that mind-set, that total confidence in myself and not giving a damn what anyone else thinks. Maybe now I’m here it’s something I can work on. Yeah, I want that, I’ll get there. Get myself sorted, get confident. A little at the very least. Maybe. Hopefully.

I decline a lift and decide that confidence has to come from within. I can have a drink on my own, get home on my own, I can call a cab. After fifteen minutes of promising I’ll text her when I leave, then again when I get safely home, Lizzie leaves with Kyle and I head to the bar to get one more drink.

I’ve not had many but I’m feeling a little more relaxed than I was when we arrived and I can only put it down to the alcohol and the exposure to the place. It’s like a fear, the longer you’re exposed to it, the less scary it gets and so the longer I’ve been here and the fact that I’ve not been called any names or had anyone blatantly look disgusted at my appearance, I’ve relaxed a bit.

‘Well hey there’.

I assume the voice to my left is some bloke chatting up the blonde that was just served next to me.

‘I hope you’re not ignoring me Cookie’.

Suddenly I realise I recognise that voice and turn slowly towards the sound.

Shit! Oh my word, it’s him, tall, dark and sexy and tonight he’s looking even hotter. Grey trousers and a black shirt that has at least the top two buttons undone, a hint of a tattoo just visible on his chest, his hair styled, slicked back but still somehow messy and delicious and his eyes, well, they’re looking directly at me.

‘Hi’ I manage.

‘Hi. So, I’m going to go straight for it this time. I’m Luke. You are?’

‘Just getting drinks for me and my friend,’ I lie.

He smiles at me. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

‘Drinks? For you and your friend?’

I nod and he laughs.

‘What’s so funny?’ I ask feeling a little disturbed at why he’s laughing at me and folding my arms across my chest protectively.

‘Are you planning on delivering them to her and the guy she left with just now?’

I stare up at him, his blue eyes holding me there, rendering me speechless as I realise that to know Lizzie left with Kyle, he had to have seen me before this moment.

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out and instead I turn away and head to the ladies.

‘Shit, fuck, shit,’ I mutter to myself as I close myself in a cubicle and instantly send a text to Lizzie.

Ella: So I just happened to bump into café guy at the bar!!!!

Lizzie’s reply is instant. I expected it to be, she was probably only a minute or so down the road so far.

Lizzie: Ooh. Is he still sexy? If so, go for it.

Ella: Go for what? He’s still pity flirting with me, he doesn’t fancy me. He asked my name again though. I don’t want to give him my name. I ran away from him and am currently hiding in the toilets. I’m going to try to sneak out and get a cab.

Lizzie: Don’t run away. He’s approached you twice now. Use your middle name. Your middle name is awesome. Did you get his?

Ella: Luke. It suits him. Middle name? I like that idea. It’s not technically a lie, it’s my name, just not my first one.

Lizzie: If you take him back to ours, there are condoms in the top drawer of the left-hand bedside cabinet. ;)

Ella: I won’t be taking him anywhere. As I said, I’m going to try to sneak out.

Lizzie: Keep me updated.

Ella: I’m sure you have better things to do. :)

Lizzie: I’ll let him do me from behind, I can still use my phone that way.

Ella: Right, that’s it, I’m so not messaging you again now. I’m not having you message me when you have a bit of Kyle stuck in you.

Lizzie: I shouldn’t tell you that he’s currently got two fingers in me while we’re at traffic lights then?

Ella: La la la. Didn’t hear a thing. Enjoy. Goodnight x

I pat my face with a paper towel to remove the slight shine and then reapply a layer of lip gloss before wondering why I’m doing so if all I intend to do is sneak out the door and away into the night.

‘He doesn’t like you. It’s a bet to see who can fuck a fat bird’.

I look up as I exit the toilets to see a woman with long dark hair and deep chocolate colour eyes leaning against the tiles of the corridor that lead to the toilets.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh honey, don’t be disappointed, you know a man like him couldn’t really be interested in someone like you’.

I get to the end of the corridor and head through the doors and walk straight into someone’s chest. A hard, well-defined chest with a rock-hard stomach to match.

‘If you wanted to touch me, you only had to ask’.

Of course, it would be him, wouldn’t it?

‘You followed me to the toilet?’

‘Well, you went pale and ran away from me. I was just checking you were okay’.

I turn back, my heart pounding, as the woman who told me he was only talking to me for a bet comes through the door and grins at him.

‘Oh fuck no,’ he sighs, his eyes darkening at her instantly and as she glares at him, I make my escape.

I make it as far as the bar before he’s beside me again, placing a hand on my arm gently, stopping me in my tracks. He runs a hand through his hair causing between my legs to tingle and I suddenly wonder how many condoms in that drawer of Lizzie’s. Why am I thinking about condoms? I’m a joke to him. And I have Eddie.

‘I have a boyfriend,’ I say suddenly.

He watches me for a second before speaking again.

‘That’s nice for you. He’s a lucky bloke. But still, Cookie, I’d like to know your name and what the crazy brunette by the toilets said to you’.

‘Why?’

‘You’re sexy. You intrigue me. I want to get to know you and I want to know what my ex said that might make you think badly of me’.

I don’t know why I asked. I wish I hadn’t. I move past him and head for the exit.

‘Dance with me’.

Fuck, he’s following me.

‘I don’t dance’.

‘I bet you do, and I bet you’d feel good moving against me too’.

It’s hot in here. I can feel myself going red and I don’t like the direction this is going. Why is he tormenting me this way?

‘Please stop’.

He gently takes my wrist as we reach the bar and I stop.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

I can’t look at him and it’s not until he places a finger under my chin and turns my face to his that I look at him again.

‘Cookie?’

‘Raine’.

‘What?’

He looks confused.

‘My name. Raine’ I clarify.

‘As in the wet stuff?’

‘Yeah, but with an e on the end’

‘Are you sure? I think maybe I’ll stick with Cookie’.

He smiles at me and the look like he wants to eat me has eased off and been replaced with one of concern.

‘I have to go,’ I say quietly.

‘Can I get you a drink before you go?’

I shake my head at him to decline his offer and pull out my phone to order an Uber.

‘I have to go,’ I repeat.

He nods, ‘I’m going to guess my ex has made whatever it was that had you running away from me and into the toilet in the first place a hell of a lot worse. I’ll wait with you outside, make sure you get to the cab safely’.

I don’t answer, instead I let him follow me outside and I tuck myself against the building while I wait for the car.

‘I know you have a boyfriend, but we could be friends,’ he says suddenly. ‘I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you’.

I look down and feel my skin tingle as he stands looking at me.

‘It’s fine’.

‘It’s clearly not. I was just flirting with you. I meant no offense, I promise. I’m a decent bloke’.

I look at him, he looks genuine but I can’t trust it and somewhere in me has this surge of something, I’m not even sure what, but I suddenly know that I have to get it off my chest.

‘Look, I’m not offended okay. I just know that you’re only talking to me because you feel sorry for me and I don’t want that and . . .’

‘Woah, Cookie, you think I feel sorry for you? Did she tell you that? I’m going to stop you right there. I spoke to you after the café and again today because I wanted to. You’re gorgeous and I genuinely want to get to know you. You’ve told me you have a boyfriend though and so although I’ve shelved plans on making a move on you and hoping this night ends up with me and you kissing right here against this wall, I would still like to get your number and be friends’.

I feel myself blush and the image of him pushing me against the wall, his head dipping to my lips and his soft mouth covering mine flashes into my mind and refuses to leave.

The corner of his mouth twitches up as if he can read my mind, can see the vision of us I’m having and I look away again. I just can’t hold eye contact with him. He’s too sexy.

Thankfully my Uber pulls up at that moment and I escape towards the car.

‘Can I get your number?’

I turn quickly towards him, a sad smile on my face because I know I’m not giving him my number. Between my own insecurities and his ex, I just need to get away from him. And he knows it.

‘Same deal as last time? Next time we meet, I get your number?’

I nod quickly and climb into the car, not looking at him as he watches me as I disappear into the night.

****

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, please head over to Amazon where you can find both this ebook and my second novel too.

Thanks.

Riley x