Well, as long as you don’t fall for his charms.
Never. I have that dildo, remember? I sent you that pic.
I loved opening that in the middle of Tesco Have you had a go?
Maybe.
Well, maybe next time send me a picture of that.
DEAN! Def don’t open that pic in Tesco.
I’d be banned. I dare you though. Love you
Love you more x
28
BEN
‘You’re having sex? But you never have sex!’ Phoebe shrieks on the other end of the phone. I don’t know where she is but it sounds like a bar. She’s shouting over the background noise and I’m glad I chose not to do this over speaker. I sit down on the sofa in the living room and try to muffle the sound of her shrieking.
‘Flo mentioned something about the pretty one but I thought you’d never go through with it. You’re far too sensible.’
‘Well, maybe I’m different now,’ I retort.
‘Holiday Ben. I’m glad. There were moments I thought you were actually shagging bowls of mashed potato,’ she says.
‘So what else did Flo say?’ I ask, realising that nothing is safe among those three. ‘Do you girls really have nothing better to talk about? The weather? My restaurant? Your own lives?’
‘You know Flo, at the end of a Friday shift, she has a drink and she can’t keep a secret,’ Phoebe says. ‘I want details. Was it the girl who asked about the yoga? Did you think, I can’t do yoga so I’ll show her I’m bendy in other ways?’ she continues, cackling down the phone.
‘You really are feral. But yes, it’s her. Her name is Chloe,’ I answer. ‘And you need to calm down because I think it’s more than what you’re referring to…’
‘Hot holiday sex?’ Phoebe says. ‘Brother, I’m just glad that you’re getting some. Before Ibiza, when was the last time?’ she asks, like it’s normal for a sister to ask her brother this question.
‘Last…October,’ I say, slightly shocked that it was that long ago.
‘That is incredibly sad.’
‘You’re such a cow,’ I reply.
‘Are you rusty? Have you been at it like rabbits?’
‘Phoebe, stop asking me these questions. I’m trying to be a gentleman. She’s here to relax and have a break, not to have me pawing over her every second.’
‘Urgh. I forgot you were nice. We trained you too well,’ she says.
‘If training means bearing witness to all the losers you’ve shagged over the years, then yes,’ I reply.
‘You’re a big fat gimpy gimp,’ she says down the phone. I can almost hear her stick her tongue out at me. ‘Holiday sex is the best sex though. You lucky sod!’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask.
‘I know you really like this girl but half the time it’s freeing: it’s someone you’ll never see again so you can really go for it. Work out all your stress and worries.’
I stop for a moment.We’ve had more intense sex than I’ve ever had before, but is that just because we’re on holiday? Would this translate to anywhere else?I hadn’t thought that I might never see her again and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
‘You’re very different to Flo. She told me to go in with the romance and woo her with my food,’ I say.
