The Duel – part 3

I opened one eye and felt a searing pain across my temple. Boom, boom, boom … I shit you not I could hear the sound of my own ear drum. What the hell was going on ? In nanoseconds my mind scrambled through the Filofax of my brain.

Turning off my work computer.

Heading for the door.

Work wife linking my arm as we heading for the bar.

A wink.

Oh my god.

The wink.



Lots of drink.






Aaagghh we kissed, we totally kissed, I didn’t just dream that.

My other eye opened.

Boom, boom, boom.

I closed them again.

Pain, so much pain.

my mouth was dry and mouldy.

Whiskey breath.

Suddenly my duvet moved.

Both eyes shot open.

Oh my god there was somebody in my bed.

My brain…. it felt like someone was flicking through the golden pages of my mind with fevour.

The smoking area.

Flirting wildly with HNGIT.

Him checking his watch saying he had to catch the last train.

Me boldly telling him he could stay in mine.

We hadn’t kissed at that stage so I was trying to sound pally. Like one of the lads. He could crash on the sofa I said swiftly when he raised one eyebrow at my suggestion.

I just didn’t want him to leave.

We had been in each other’s company all night. Chatting incessantly and flirting outrageously. He was sooo funny and we had so much in common and with a few drinks on him all his shyness evaporated and finally I could tell he was as into me as I was in him. The last thing I wanted was to cut short the one night he had been out in the four months I’d know him so he could catch the last train home.

Just before he could make a conscious decision the Scottish lad handed him another pint and the decision was taken out of his hands.

Just after 2am in the half empty smoking area he kissed me and I was utterly delighted with life.

Back in my bed I made a gargantuan effort to turn over onto my back and as I did he flung his arm over me and pulled me into his chest.

“Morning” I croaked. Making sure to talk into his chest, lest he smell my whiskey breath. He was fully clothed, as was I.

I barely remember getting home. It must have been after 4am as we crash barrelled our way into my room drunkenly and sloppily kissing before swiftly passing out on my bed.

Typical! I wait for months to get this Adonis into my clutches and we’re both too drunk to do anything remotely sexual.

“Mornin” he whispered back kissing me on the head as he wrapped me in a hug.

“What time is it?” He mumbled into my hair.

Just then my alarm went off signalling to me that it was exactly 7.40am.

“Uuurrrggghhhh” I groaned as I grappled for my phone at the side of my bed. But of course it wasn’t there and the deafening alarm continued from the confines of my bag which I had obviously flung across the room in my drunken stupor hours earlier.

I turned to scramble out of bed but he hugged me tighter and kissed the top of head again.

I bowed my head deeper into the valley of his chest not wanting to escape the warmth of his embrace after all these months of wanting to be in exactly this position, (albeit with less clothes on) 🤗.

The alarm intensified, his grip loosened and I slid out of bed and scrambled on the floor while the full weight of my hangover came crashing down upon me.

There was no getting away from the fact that in one hour and fifteen minutes we both had to be sitting at our desks for an excruciatingly long day of pretend work.

“Right I’m gonna jump in the shower” I said after I had silenced the deafening fog horn of my mid volume alarm.

He waved three fingers in my direction in response, his eyes still closed as I grabbed a towel and scarpered to the bathroom. Once there I steadied myself on the sink and looked at my reflection in the mirror. It was not a pretty sight.

After standing in the shower for fifteen minutes hugging myself whilst trying to quell the nausea that crept its way up my throat I stepped out, wrapped myself in a towel and crept back into my room hoping I could get dressed without him waking up.

No such luck …as soon as I gingerly sat on the side of the bed to put my contacts in he pulled me to him. Wet hair dripping on us both as he placed a closed mouthed kiss on my lips.

“I have to get dressed” I mumbled into his cheek as he attempted to pull the towel away from me.

“Ugh do we actually have to go to work” he said in defeat as I buried my wet head into the nape of his neck.

“Yup” I sighed wriggling away from him and slumping onto the floor while he spread himself like a 6ft starfish in my oversized bed.

I opened my wardrobe doors and reached for my most hungover appeasing outifit, leggings, an oversized jumper and ugg boots when suddenly the memory of my impending date with Z popped into my head.

“Today is Friday, today is your date with Z day” my brain said suddenly and chirpyly as if it was doing a great job in reminding me of this fact …while my body responded by wanting to punch it full force in the face.

“Fuck my life” I said out loud as I dropped my left Ugg boot on the floor.

“What’s wrong” said HNGIT startled by my outburst.

“I have a fucking date tonight” I said. My hangover overriding all sense of propriety.

“Oh” he said sounding disappointed (or at least that’s what I allowed myself to hear in the two lettered one syllabled response of his)

“Don’t go on a date” he said looking at me while propping himself up onto his elbow.

For a split second I contemplated saying “OKAY, I’ll cancel” before jumping into his arms but then I thought: no hang on a second fuck this guy, he played hard to get for four months and now after just one night of kissing he thinks he gets to tell me not to date other people (I tell ye what there’s no messing with me eh).

So I said “no I have to, I’m not gonna just cancel on the poor fella he seems nice and sure who’s to say what’s gonna happen here’ I waved my hand in the air between us. He just stared back at me and then shrugged in half agreement/defeat.

He got up then and I abandoned the uggs for a slightly more appealing outfit considering I was meant to attempt to be gorgeous come 7pm this evening …god help me.

We endured the walk of shame together to the tube station. We crammed onto the packed train and he put his arm around me in a protective fashion as we careened our way at high speed through Londons underground our legs and arms and bodies touching. I was delighted with myself. Despite the hangover, the embarrassment of it all, the looming date with a random stranger who quite frankly I couldn’t have given two shits about at that point ….I was utterly utterly delighted with myself. I had finally scored HNGIT and as far as I was concerned it was now inevitable that we would fall in love and get married and have babies which is of course an all too resonable expectation to have about someone who you’ve been crushing hard on for four months.

When we got to work we kissed in the lift and he disembarked on floor two while I carried on to floor three.

I skipped my way to my desk and opened my emails.

“Hey Ari, still on for tonight? Looking forward to finally meeting you, I’ve drinks arranged for us in shoreditch at 7pm -Z”

At that exact moment the bile I had been doing my best to surpress sprung to life and I ran to the ladies and spent the next twenty minutes, and every twenty minutes after that with my head in the toilet bowl. I still don’t drink whiskey to this day.

To be continued ….


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