And then, fueled with uncharacteristic courage, mainly due to vodka, I asked, in my most flirty voice, “And you? Where’s your Valentine’s date?”
He replied, “I don’t have one.”
He took a step forward. Another step. Another. Until he was right next to me. And that’s when the truly amazing thing happened.
We looked at each other and then I swear I heard him say—with his mind—that he wanted to kiss me. So, I said it back, using the powers of telepathy that I didn’t even know I had. “Kiss me! Kiss me! Kiss me!”
And he did. It was hungry and desperate and loud and messy and full of arms and legs and backs being flung against walls. A m a z i n g. Best kiss of my entire life. Sparks, fireworks, lightning bolts and atomic fucking bombs went off. And then the lift doors opened and it stopped.
I thought that was going to be the end of it. I thought this was going to become like those crazy movie moments where you land up kissing a stranger under some equally strange circumstances and then part ways—but it wasn’t.
He asked, “Do you live here?”
I replied that I did, “number seventeen” (just so he knew exactly where).
And then, lo and behold (I’m taking this as a sign, btw), he said, apartment 18—he’d just moved in! He walked me to the door and then kissed me again. Soft, slow, sexy and delicious. Then he stopped, ran his thumb over my lips and said, “Good night, neighbor. See you soon.” I repeat, “See you soon.”
Now, do you see why I needed to write this down immediately! Hottest guy I’ve ever seen before kissed me passionately in lift (and at door) and it was electric. Earth moved. Mountains shook. Skies opened to choirs of little white-haired angels. I can still taste him. My lips are tingling, and I want more. Perhaps I’ll stage a walk-past by his apartment tomorrow . . .
More tomorrow . . .
CHAPTER TWO
All the guests were staring at me, but I was frozen.
Matt gestured at me and gave an encouraging little nod. Samantha’s father cleared his throat loudly. A general murmur spread through the room.
I can do this. I can fucking do this!
“Maybe she’s got a bit of stage fright. Let’s give her a round of applause,” Samantha’s dad called out.
The room erupted into enthusiastic applause. It only made the whole thing worse.
I got up slowly and made my way to the raised platform where a mic was pinned to my dress. I took my place behind the podium and put the paper down on it, smoothing it with my sweaty palms. Hundreds of expectant eyes stared at me. I could feel them boring holes into my face, even though I hadn’t dared to look up yet. If I just stuck to my pre-planned speech, it would be fine . . .
“Hi, everyone. For those who don’t know me, I’m Val.” At that, a few claps and whistles filled the room.
“Well, what can I say about Matt and Sam really?” I continued. “They’re perfect for each other.” I forced a massive smile before launching into the next part. “In fact, I’ve known how perfect these two were from the moment I met Sam and saw how happy she made Matt and how very, very,veryin love he was with her . . .”
I could feel the thoughts in my brain distancing themselves from me. They floated further and further from my grasp and disappeared into the woozy, mucky sludge that had filled my cranium. Suddenly, everything was very jumbled.
“They are justsooooooooin love. Like, a lot . . . I mean, you should see them sometimes, it’s like ‘Hey, guys, get a room.’ ” I heard a strange chuckle escape my mouth. A few other people chuckled, but most looked downright shocked.
Things went pretty pear-shaped after that. Why do they say pear-shaped, btw? A pear has such a lovely shape. So smooth and curvy. And nothing about this was even vaguely smooth, or curvy.
“Sometimes, they just hang onto each other so much, that I want to just pry them apart with my little claws . . . hahahah!” I laughed maniacally. A tiny moment of sanity prevailed, and I realized what I’d just said. I took a deep breath—Get it together, Val—and exhaled . . .
“Sqeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.” The nasal squeak reverberated around the whole room and people recoiled.
“Sorry, sorry! My nose, it’s um . . . never mind. What I meant to say is that they are very in love . . . Wait, I’ve already said that . . . sorry, hang on. What I’m trying to say is . . . is . . . uuuhhhh . . .”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I looked down at the paper. The letters I’d written were swimming on the page. The words were blurring, and a feeling was rising. I looked up from the paper and into Samantha’s angry face. She had her arm draped around a very concerned-looking Matt. I didn’t blame him. I was concerned.
My eyes swept the crowd. A few people were snickering. Some were whispering to each other and that feeling inside me was growing steadily. Getting bigger, and bigger, and . . . suddenly, the feeling was too damn big to be contained anymore. It felt like a massive balloon was being inflated inside me and at any moment it was just going to burst uncontrollabl—
“SORRY!” I shouted. “Sorry! I can’t do this. I’m so sorry, I just . . . I can’t . . . I can’t.”
