In the final spare space in the wants, I write: to be in control of my own life. Oh, and sex. Because my God, I want sex.
Chapter Seven
WILL
‘Will?’
The voice was everything I needed to hear, but not on a sopping wet February, and not when I’m in Cardiff Waterstones in the travel section staring at travel guides for Athens and Greece.
‘Will, is that you?’
I could open a book and hide behind it. Could shuffle away with my back turned. Maybe even put my headphones in and pretend I’d had them in the whole time. But none of these are plausible and I have to face the music.
I force a beaming smile, turn, and say, ‘Ollie.’
Good Lord, what a perfect specimen. Tall, toned, hair wavy and parted in the middle, he is the hot professor fantasy. Even though rain pours outside, he doesn’t have a speck of water on his clothes. His charcoal coat is spotless, and oh no, he’s opening his arms, and he’s walking to me, and…
He hugs me, and I stiffen like an ironing board, and he freezes.
‘I wasn’t expecting a hug,’ I say, then, before he can say anything else, I say, ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you.’
‘No, well, me neither.’ He clears his throat and lets me go. ‘Uh… I’m here for…’
‘Oh, me too, yeah, some poor bookseller has asked me twice if I need help.’ I think they were asking me on a deeper level. I reach for an Athens book, hand it to him.
‘Oh.’ He laughs. ‘No, I was looking for inspo for the honeymoon.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’ I squeak. ‘Silly me.’
Ollie scratches the back of his head. ‘Did you, uh…’ He meets my eye. ‘Did you get the invite, uh, to the… to our… to my wedding?’
I swallow down the bile that rises in my throat. He doesn’t care I’ve accepted the invite, then. Fine. I’ll match his energy and play it cool. ‘Oh? No.’
He gestures at the Athens book he’s still holding. ‘But you gave me this?’
‘That.’ I point, tap the cover. ‘That is right, yes.’ My eyes widen as I feign realisation. ‘Oh,thatwedding invite?’
‘You had more wedding invites?’
‘Well, everyone wants me at their wedding, you see.’
Ollie hands me the book on Athens. ‘Cool.’
I put the book back on the shelf, taking the time when Ollie can’t see me to let out a deep breath. ‘Yes, I got your invite.’
I turn back to him.
‘Cool,’ he says again, hands going in his pockets.
‘Socool.’ Then, remembering I haven’t seen him in person since, I say, ‘congratulations’. But I stumble over the word and flush red.
‘Thanks.’
Neither of us says anything more. I know I should go, but I’m also too prideful. The same bookseller starts to approach. I cannot have them asking me if I need help again.
‘Uh… so, I’ll leave you to this, and…’
He nods, I nod, and God, what happened to us?
