The Duel -Part 5

After ‘the kiss’ we went back to the bar and partied the night away. Dancing and dranking and kissin….

At about 3am a party was declared by Simon back at Z’s house. Our four companions hopped in a cab leaving Z and I to jump into the one behind and all caught up in the excitement I found myself hurtling towards Stratford in West London.

I was throughly enjoying myself. After the romantic drought I had been experiencing in recent months here I was kissing not one but two incredibly handsome men in the space of as many nights. The old analogous men are like buses rang true here.

Of course upon arriving at Z’s apartment the other four were no where in sight. A quick drunken phone call revealed that Simon remembered he had tequila back in his place and ‘forgot’ to update us. A ploy no doubt to help his mate turn this late night party into a party for two. I hadn’t been to any parties in a reeeeaaallllyyyy long time so…..

….We had a party.

The next morning I tried to make a swift exit, but to my utter surprise Z asked if I wanted to go for breakfast. We lay in his bed with the sun streaming in discussing what kind of breakfast we were in the mood for. A full English, eggs Benedict, Shakasuka… I realise this sounds like some kind of sexual inneuendo but it’s not, we actually were talking about breakfast. Unlike the Vegetable man this one was a real foodie, he was funny and kind and made me feel utterly at ease in his company.

We strolled to the tube station comfortably ribbing each other in a typical Irish way. We hopped on the central line to Liverpool Street, legs touching as we sat amicably side my side, grinning lobsided grins as we remembered the excellent party we had had the night before.

We walked past the bar we had been dancing into just a few hours earlier and into Spitalfields where a French cafe catered for the Sunday morning brunch crowd with seats that spilled out onto the pavement and waiters in waistcoats weaved in and out serving foamy coffee, bloody Mary’s and the odd Mimosa.

We sat down in recently vacated seats outside and pretended that we didn’t have the hangovers that were starting to creep over us.

Z ordered a full English and I an eggs royale with the eggs really really really well done. (An in joke for all my friends reading this who’ve ever had to endure going for breakfast with me) I have a weird thing about soft eggs. I wish people would get over it. Anyway I digress…

So there we were two sober, hungover, people, me with the remanents of last nights make up smudging my eyes and he with three day old stubble. It could have been awkward as fuck but it was the total opposite. Almost like we had been mates for years. When we had finished our food I went to the bathroom and on my return I paid for our brekkie at the till. He had paid for dinner so I figured the least I could do in the independent woman mindset of mine was pay for breakfast.

‘Right, are ya right ?’ I said when I came out picking up my coat from the back of my chair.

He had been sitting back in his seat scrolling through his iPhone.

‘Oh but we have to pay’ he said reaching for his wallet.

‘Don’t worry I took care of it’ I said putting my hand out to stop him retrieving his credit card.

He smiled at me and gave me that same look he had given me the night before in the bar. A look that said ‘hmmm this one, this one is different.’

‘Thanks’ he said nodding a strong solid one nod nod.

He walked me to the train station before he headed off for a session in his gym.

‘Thanks for a great night’ I said turning to him at the top of the escalator.

‘Yeah you too’ he said pulling me in for a quick kiss on the lips. ‘I’ll call you’

‘Sure’ I replied and hopped onto the escalators as he swiftly walked away.

As I glanced back and saw the top of his back pack disappearing into the Sunday hipster throng I thought to myself. ‘I bet I never see that guy again’.

But with HNGIT still very much occupying my thoughts I didn’t put too much emphasis on it.

Sure Z was lovely and we had fun and the best all time first kiss kiss but I had been crushing on HNGIT for four months and I had just kissed him now three days earlier. Sure I’d like to see Z again but if I didn’t I didn’t and that would be ok, which was weird for me cause ordinarily I would have been obessessing over everything I had done and said in his company to determine to a percentage basis how likely it would be for me to see him again.

Clearly my confidence level was at an all time high. I was emitting pheromones like nobodies business. If I was in a Disney movie I would have broken out in song in the middle of Liverpool St station and a flash mob of dancing commuters would have jazz hands there way along with me as little blue birds danced on my shoulders. I was delighted with myself.

So much so I rewarded myself by going home, getting into my pyjamas and ordering a giant dominos meal deal all to myself which I proceeded to eat for the whole day while watching reruns of Sex and City. Samantha Jones eat your heart out.

At about 8pm I decided to have a long soak in the bath. I had to prettify myself ahead of Monday morning and my first proper time seeing HNGIT since I had kissed him good bye in the elevator on Friday morning.

Lying in the bubble filled hot water with my head back and my eyes closed my phone beeped with a message. Ugh I’ll look at it later I thought.

Then it beeped again and again.

My eyes opened and I reached my wet and dripping hand out to retrieve my buzzing phone from its place atop the toilet seat.

My screen display informed me that I had 5 new messages two from HNGIT and three from Z.

Fuck! And also Yay!

My tummy did a little flip.

I opened Z’s first.

‘Hey hope you got home in one piece. The gym was a bad idea…I’m still dying but it was a fun night”

“Was wondering if you fancied meeting up again this week for dinner we could check out that new steak place I was talking about this morning ?”

“How are you fixed on Wednesday?”

Ok! Interesting.

I opened HNGIT’s messages.

“Hey Ari! Hope you had a good weekend? Friday was hairy, whiskeys a killer eh?”

“Was thinking if you were up for it maybe we could hit up that pool bar you were telling me about on Friday. I hear they do Wing Wednesdays with pitchers of beers. You game ?”

Oh shit. This is going to get interesting I thought as I placed my phone down and sunk my whole body and face beneath the bath water.

To be continued ….

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Sonia Obrien says:

    No way……. can’t leave me hanging……which one?????

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Awesome! A fellow book blogger. And yeah, Sonia’s right. Don’t leave is hanging


  3. Jill says:

    Nearly a year later and I’m still itching to find out what happened next!!!


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