Girls Night Out 3 E-Book Bundle. Gemma Burgess
Dave, raising an eyebrow. ‘Obviously.’
Lick hand. Sprinkle salt. Do the shot. Suck the lemon. As I shake my head at the disgusting taste, I look up and meet Dave’s eyes again. God. It’s like being punched in the stomach with – well, sorry, but it’s true – desire. I have never felt like this in my life. I bet we’d have that spark, if we kissed . . .
There is nothing cool or detached about me right now. In fact, I’m quite sure he can read my mind and it’s saying, in very large print: I would like to be naked and in bed with you.
I turn to Sophie.
‘You should call that guy! Jon!’ she exclaims. ‘I heard he really likes you. Did he text you?’
‘Uh, yeah,’ I say distractedly. ‘But I’m not into it.’
‘Can you make up a lie rather than ignore him? Like, that you’re getting back with your ex? At least he won’t have to wonder . . .’
‘Nah,’ I say. ‘Can’t be bothered. I told him I wasn’t looking for a relationship.’
‘You’re being mean. Apparently he’s really lovely . . . Oo! I ran a marathon today!’ she says proudly.
‘I thought it was a charity 5k in Hyde Park at lunchtime?’ I say. God bless drunk attention spans.
‘Whatever. The point is, I ran a long, long way,’ she says. ‘Then I went home to recover, then I met Luke for dinner at Bumpkin, and then Dave announced himself as the captain of fun,’ she says, hiccupping slightly. ‘It’s been a bit crazy ever since.’
‘No, no,’ Dave interrupts. He has a very self-assured way of speaking. ‘Captain Fun. Not the captain of fun. It’s a legitimate name. Abigail, you can see the difference, can’t you?’
‘Absolutely,’ I nod, again stupidly. I wonder if he heard that thing about Jon. At least he’ll know I’m single, right? (Does that sound desperate? Oh God.)
I charge towards Robert, who has just come in with two beers and no Olivia, hissing ‘follow me!’ as I reach him. The moment we’re in the corridor, I collapse dramatically against the wall.
‘Dave. You’re like, best friends with him, right? How have I never met him before? Is he single?’
‘Yes, why?’ says Robert. Then he clicks. ‘Really? Him?’
‘Yes, yes, he’s the first guy I’ve met since breaking up with Peter that I find just – argh, divine,’ I babble. ‘Tell me about him, does he have any deal-breaking faults? Is he nice to waitresses? Do you think he’d like me? Would he ask me out? I think I might take him as my lover.’
‘Your lover? OK, just relax, Abby,’ says Robert. ‘Dave is one of my oldest friends, I can help.’
‘You can?’ I say. ‘Yes. Please. If he’s your best friend, he must be normal! Isn’t this exciting? Finally, I know what I want! I want him!’
‘Just one thing,’ he says, pausing to think for a second. ‘Dave—’
A shout from down the other end of the corridor draws my attention, and I see Henry and Charlotte holding hands and heading out the front door.
‘Look!’ I say, grabbing Robert’s arm. ‘Henry and Charlotte!’
Robert nods. ‘I saw them doing a mating dance in the kitchen.’
‘So, what do I do about Dave?’
Robert thinks for a second. ‘Just ignore him. That’s the best thing you can do.’
‘Really?’ I say doubtfully.
‘Yes, definitely,’ he says.
Plum comes bounding up. ‘This party is awesome! I beg your pardon,’ she says before I can reply, turning around to face the guy behind her. ‘Did you just place your hand on my bottom?’
‘No . . .’ he says. He’s cute, in a beardy way. ‘Maybe. Can I get you a drink to apologise?’
‘I suppose,’ she says, and skips after him into the kitchen, turning to flash us a manic grin.
‘Come on,’ says Robert. ‘I’ll introduce you to everyone.’
The people at this party come not only from all over the country, but all over the world. A Greek girl called Aphrodite is teaching a Liverpudlian called Dylan how to say ‘I’m pregnant with your child’, an American who is, rather fabulously, called Vlad, is standing on a chair having a Cypress Hill song com petition with JimmyJames, and a Canadian guy called Matt asks for my number but then repeatedly calls me Jessica.
‘Where do they all come from?’ I say.
He looks around and shrugs. ‘That’s London for you. I guess JimmyJames and Dave are very good at making friends.’
I love it. As much as I enjoy the warmth of having friends I’ve known since I was 18, these people don’t know me as Peter’s quiet girlfriend, or the girl they always saw in the library, or Plum’s subdued friend, or Sophie’s less fun, elder sister. I have a blank slate. As a result I’m a bit louder and more confident than I’ve ever been before. I talk more and laugh louder. It’s brilliant.
Throughout all of it, I’m acutely aware of exactly where Dave is on the other side of the room, what he’s doing and who he’s talking to. I’m discreetly tracking him. He’s so good-looking and funny, and exudes confidence and charm. If he was to come and talk to me, could I be cool and detached? Would I clam up or babble? I have no idea. But I’m following Robert’s instructions and ignoring him.
Then I head into the kitchen for a refill. ‘You’re Robert’s flatmate,’ says the girl in too many sequins that I saw talking to Robert earlier.
‘Yes,’ I say, though it wasn’t really a question. ‘I’m Abigail.’
‘I’m Emma,’ she says. ‘I expect Robert’s told you about me.’
‘Oh, yes, Emma! Of course.’
Her eyes fill with tears. ‘He hasn’t ever mentioned me, has he? Bastard.’
‘Um, I’m sorry,’ I falter. ‘What . . . are . . . did he do?’ I can’t think of what else to say, though it’s pretty obvious what she’s upset about.
‘What he does to everyone,’ she says, flailing her arms wildly and spilling a little bit of gin on the floor. ‘Slept with me three times and then told me it was better we kept it casual.’
I grimace. That sounds like Robert alright. Though according to him, it’s always mutual, and the girl doesn’t expect anything else. Like hell.
‘He makes you feel special, like he’s going to look after you, you know?’ she says. She’s slipping into full rant mode. ‘And he always says how he’s not looking for a relationship but he’s so kind and sweet and hot and seems like perfect boyfriend material. But it’s all a front, it’s a game to him, he’s just a big fucking slut.’
‘He’s not,’ I say defensively, though actually, if Robert wasn’t such a good friend of mine, I’d probably think he was a big fucking slut, too. ‘He’s a great guy to have as a friend,’ I say. ‘He’s just not looking for a relationship.’
‘He told me that, too, but it’s like part of the attraction!’ she says hysterically. ‘He’s unobtainable. You must be the only female friend he’s ever had that he hasn’t slept with. And I bet he will,’ she spits bitterly. ‘I bet he sleeps with you. And then you’ll know.’
‘Well, thanks for the heads up,’ I say. This conversation isn’t going anywhere. ‘Lovely talking to you.’
I turn around and leave the kitchen and run straight into Robert. ‘I wouldn’t go in there,’ I say. ‘Emma’s waiting for you.’
‘Fuck, thanks,’