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‘Shopping trip!’ Poppy beams.
After we’ve eaten, and Lila is asleep, Poppy and I spend some time looking at outfits online before she announces she has coursework to do, sitting cross-legged in the living room to do it.
I potter around the house for a bit, thinking about how I had invited Joe to the wedding and feeling increasingly grumpy about his lack of communication again. I’d thought we were getting back on track after our meal out but he’s gone quiet and it’s bugging me so much I could burst. Will he even still want to come to the wedding? I could message him but then he could ignore me again and suddenly, I find myself itching to confront him about it. It’s still pretty early so I ask Poppy if she minds if I pop over to Joe’s to chat about something. She’s preoccupied with work and calls out a ‘sure’ so I reclaim my Birkenstocks, and slip my phone into the back pocket of my shorts.
‘Don’t be too long! Just a quickie WINK WINK,’ Poppy calls after me as I’m leaving.
Chance would be a fine thing, I think.
Wait, no, stop that, Sophie! Joe’s your FRIEND.
Or is he even that these days?
It’s a balmy June night so even though it’s not a long walk I’m a little too hot when I get to Joe’s. I ring the bell and absent-mindedly scoop my hair up in my fist, letting the gentle breeze cool my neck.
The door opens and there stands Joe, naked but for a towel wrapped around his waist.
I swallow hard. His taut body is still damp from a shower. The towel sits low on his hips and my eyes track from his belly button down towards—
‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ Joe says, interrupting my thoughts.
Eyes front, Sophie.
‘Err … yep. I know, I just … wanted to ask you something!’ I say, letting go of my hair and giving him a somewhat unnecessary wave.
He stands back to let me in and as I squeeze past I can feel the warmth coming from him. I’m overwhelmed with an urge to press myself against him. The wave of desire is so strong that I’m almost paralysed by it.
The front door shuts behind me.
‘You’ve got a …’ Joe’s fingers are on the back of my neck and I freeze, the feel of his touch searing through me.
I spin round to face him.
‘Label,’ he says. ‘Your label was poking out.’
‘I bought beer!’ I say, lifting up a four pack of his favourite that I picked up from the corner shop on the way over. ‘Why don’t I open us one while you finish up getting naked. DRESSED. I meant dressed. Put some clothes on, Joe, for goodness sake ha ha!’
That was too much. Joe looks startled. I am a giant pool of cringe.
‘I’ll do that,’ he says, his voice thick, and he jogs back upstairs.
My breathing steadies as I open the beers. That was … unfortunate. But nothing else. Just to be expected? He’s a good-looking guy and it’s not like I’m a nun, I’m bound to experience the odd flash of desire when Joe’s around being all naked. It’s natural, I reassure myself. And it’s how I deal with it that counts.
Just stick to the plan.
Suddenly Mum’s story about Auntie Belinda and her friend with benefits pings into my mind. Could Joe and I try that? Call it a palate cleanser?
The thought of sleeping with Joe is so appealing in this moment that I have to head over to the sink and run cold water over my pulse points just to try and cool down. I stand at the sink for ages, thoughts of Joe in his towel and of our kiss unhelpfully flashing through my mind. The fact that I apparently find him divine to look at is becoming a problem. The way his hair flops down over his eyes in disobedient increments. The flash of fire when he looks at me …
Jesus! What has gotten into me?
I’ve probably run down all the reservoirs in Bristol by the time I get a hold of myself and turn off the cold tap.
When Joe comes back he’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt.
He still looks good, wet hair now pushed back from his face, but mercifully less naked.
‘So, what did you want to ask me?’ he asks as he grabs a beer.
