Love & London by Ellie White

CHAPTER NINE

It's been almost 2 weeks since Sam and I went on our first date and we've spoken every day. I really like him. Sam is kind and sweet, he's attractive and a great kisser. On paper, he's everything. In reality, I’m not entirely sure.

I can't shake the feeling that something is missing. At first, I put it down to the ridiculous crush I’d developed on Jake and the fact this whole dating thing is weird for me anyway but, as time goes on, I still find myself looking for more from Sam (which is ridiculous since we've only been on a handful of dates). As my new relationship with Sam slowly grows, my relationship with Jake quickly deteriorates.

The lunch he promised me has been postponed, indefinitely, as he suddenly had an urgent errand to run and says it would be quicker doing it himself than if I went along with him. He no longer answers my phone calls outside of working hours, he doesn't reply to my texts and getting a personal conversation out of him is like getting blood from a stone. The deal I made to spend time with him once a week is apparently void as he didn't even show up to The George last Friday.

James thinks I need to back off and give him the space he's asked for but I really don't know how to give him more space than I already have.

When we're in the office together, it's like nothing has happened and we've worked hard together to finish our pitch early but that's it. Now, we're back to our own projects and I keep trying to find excuses to talk to him that don't involve me screaming in his face, demanding to know what the hell is going through his mind. I probably would have done so already if it was ever just the two of us but he has reverted to his old ways. He comes in to work late and leaves early, leaving me behind to do the boring jobs that he doesn't want to do, like signing off on payroll or approving our monthly budgets.

So, yeah, I'm madder at him than ever before and I can’t do anything about it because, apparently, he needs his ‘space’.

I'm surprised to see him sat with James and Helen at our usual table when I arrive at the pub tonight. Sam has gone back to work this week and won't finish his filming until later tonight so we’ve planned a late dinner, giving him chance to go home and change. Since he said he would meet me here, it'll be the first time he meets my friends and to say I'm anxious is an understatement. We've been dating less than two weeks, a part of me is screaming that this is going too fast but another part is saying, ‘just go for it’.

"Tonight, is your what... fifth date? In 2 weeks?" Harry asks.

"Yeah, he's met me for lunch a few times, too, but don't really count them as dates."

"You know what that means, right?" Simon chips in.

I just stare blankly, clearly not in on this secret. I never did Google the rules of dating.

"Sex," they say together.

"She doesn't have to have sex with him - they've just met! She doesn't even know him," Jake protests as everyone turns their heads to look at him with raised eyebrows. It's the first time he's even looked my way since I got here an hour ago, let alone spoken to me.

"That's rich, coming from you," I say, defensively. I’m just saying what everyone else was thinking.

The atmosphere shifts and I can tell people are already starting to feel uncomfortable with the tension building between us. I can feel it chipping away at the little resolve I have left and I'm close to breaking point.

"Yeah, well... I'm just saying. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"Who said I don't want to? How would you even know?"

"Do you want to?" he snaps back.

"It's none of your business. You are literally the last person who can judge me based on my sex life, Jake."

"But it's okay for you to barely speak to me for eight years based on mine?" he bites back.

"You pushed me away first; that's on you. And how can you say that when you've barely spoken to me these past two weeks?"

"Yeah, well, this is going to be a long seven years and 50 weeks for you."

No-one at the table dares speak a word as Jake and I stare each other down, seething at each other so I'm relieved when my brother breaks the silence.

"Well, I don't want to be part of this conversation so I'm going to the bar and you're coming with me. When you both calm down, you can talk it through like adults because the way you're behaving currently is far from acting your age," James says, pulling Jake from his seat and dragging him towards the bar where they seem to have a heated conversation.

"I'm coming," Laura shouts after them, making her way over to join their conversation.

I huff as I return my attention to Simon and Harry.

"Do you have matching lingerie on?" Harry says as though that argument didn't happen.

"Yes." That makes a change.

"And condoms? Any self-respecting person is always prepared. Do you have any questions?" Simon queries.

"I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing. Sex is sex. Things can't have changed that much... Right?"

"The basics are the same but you're a little out of practice, hun. I'm sure it'll be fine," Harry says, waving it off.

"The key is having open dialogue. Don't be afraid to let him know when you like something or don't like something," Simon adds, making me think I should be writing notes.

"I'm sure I'll be fine. Anyway, I doubt sex is on the cards. He is still in a lot of pain with his collarbone, after all," I say as I spot Sam walk through the door so I wave to get his attention. "He's here. Please make him feel welcome," I beg as James, Jake and Laura finally join our table again. I aim my remarks directly at Jake because you never know what side of him you're going to get, lately.

It's awkward when Sam greets me with a kiss on the mouth and a wide smile before I introduce him to everyone but I put that down to my nerves and the anger that is still floating around inside of me. Jake is still tense from our argument, his jaw set in a straight line, but he shakes Sam's hand, none the less, maybe squeezing a little bit too hard. Sam places his arm back around my waist, pulling me in to his side as he makes small talk with my friends. Jake doesn't say anything when he leaves the table and disappears to the back of the pub.

Guess I'll sort things out with him later, then.

James looks at me apologetically: He knows more than he is letting on. I want to ask him about it but it's not a conversation I want to have with Sam around.

As soon as it's socially acceptable, Sam and I excuse ourselves and head out for dinner.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks as we walk to the tube station.

"I'm fine. Jake and I just had a little disagreement before you arrived," I say, putting it mildly.

"Well, I'll try my best to distract you," he says, stopping to kiss me in the street. I smile but it's forced, not that I let Sam know that.

"Let's just eat and enjoy our night."

***

After dinner, we take a moonlit walk across Westminster Bridge. Tourists are still out taking pictures, busses full of people going anywhere and everywhere. It would be romantic if I could focus for longer than five seconds. Instead, I can't get Jake out of my head. Conversation with Sam doesn't flow as easily tonight as it has done previously which is completely my fault.

I compare him to how it used to be with Jake before we fell out again. Sam doesn't make me laugh as much as Jake does. I don't feel as comfortable with him as I do with Jake. He doesn't make my heart race like Jake does: Even when we’re arguing, I still have those butterflies. As we reach the tube station, my stomach is tied in knots because I know I have got to end things with Sam before they get too far. My mind is swirling as I think about it and I have no idea how to do this.

"So, did you want to come back to my place? It's only three stops away on the Piccadilly line," Sam says, winding his arm around my waist and kissing me again but it doesn't make me feel anything. It's pleasant, yes, but there's no deeper connection and I don't think there ever was.

"I'm sorry. I think I'm just going to go home. I've really enjoyed spending time with you but there's just something missing, something that I can’t give you,” I say honestly. “You’re a lovely man, Sam, you’ll make someone incredibly happy. I really hope you find what you're looking for, I'm just sorry I'm not it."

He looks at me intently and I can see that he understands.

"Thank you for being honest. I hope you work things out with your partner, too. I can see how much it's upset you," he says, giving me a platonic kiss on the cheek and walking down to his platform.

I slowly make my way to my own platform, in no rush to go home alone.

He's right about Jake. I know he will still be at The George. He doesn't usually leave until last orders with the rest of us so I decide I need to face him, once and for all.

We're sorting this out tonight, whether he likes it or not.

***

The entire journey back, I think about what I'll say but all that goes out of the window when Jake is the first person I see as I enter the busy pub. As soon as he meets my eye, I'm seething, the anger and rage I have suppressed for two weeks bubbling to the surface like it did before. This time, I know I won't be able to stop myself.

I ignore the greetings and the confusion from my friends who weren't expecting to see me again tonight and I square up to Jake who stands at the edge of the table. I doubt I'm as threatening to him as I think I am, especially since he is at least a foot taller than me.

"Why the hell did you have to get in my head?" I snap at him as soon as I reach the table, shocking him. "Sam is a great man. He has a fantastic job; he is passionate and generous. He has goals and aspirations and a life plan."

"Then why aren't you in his bed? Wasn't that the idea?" he says, taking a step towards me.

His piercing eyes meet mine, sending shock waves throughout my entire body. This feeling between us, right now, is what I was missing with Sam. Chemistry, physical attraction, fireworks.

"‘She doesn't have to have sex with him, she doesn't even know him’," I say in a terrible impression of him. It doesn't help that I'm slightly out of breath from all the rage. "You got in my head; you know you did. You did it on purpose. He was gorgeous and perfect-"

"If he's so perfect, Maggs, where is he?"

"I liked him!" I say, losing my temper once more. "I liked him a lot but all I've been able to think about throughout my entire date was that something was wrong and I couldn't work out what it was. I spent most of the night trying to justify what you said. In the end, the only thing I could see clearly was you. I tried to put you out of my mind and remember how I usually feel with Sam but, instead, all I could think about was how you make me feel!"

I don't dare look at anyone other than Jake; they all heard my confession.

Shit.

"Made. I meant how you made me feel... Earlier... When you told me not to have sex with him," I say as I awkwardly try to backtrack and catch my breath again.

Silence.

We both stand, staring at each other. Neither of us dare speak.

Our friends are looking between us like they're watching Wimbledon. Even some of the neighbouring tables are watching, waiting for one of us to speak, for one of us to address what I said.

He just looks at me, his mouth slightly open in shock.

"Is that what you meant, Maggs? Or did you mean it the first way?" he asks, his face no longer confrontational. Now, he just looks confused and maybe a little hopeful.

"Get out of my head," I shout, panicking and practically running for the door, not really knowing where else to go with this conversation. My heart threatens to jump out of my throat as I storm out, doing my best not to turn around when he eventually shouts my name in his gorgeously rough voice.

I hate how much I want him right now. I hate how I didn't kiss him when I had the chance. I hate how I can't bring myself to tell him how I really feel about him.

He catches up to me before I reach the street, grabbing my hand before I reach the ivy archway in the entrance, the fairy light-covered pergola twinkling above us like stars. It starts to rain. This could be a really romantic movie moment if it weren’t freezing and I wasn't getting soaked to the bone. If this were a movie, he would spin me to face him, bury his hand in my hair and tell me that he loves me. We'd share a passionate kiss in the rain, complete with tears of joy and then the credits would roll. We'd live happily ever after.

This isn't a movie. This is real life and the reality is that rainwater is going in my eyes and my mascara must be running, my clothes are already saturated from the sudden downpour and are now sticking to me. I don't even want to imagine what state my hair is in. Far from sexy, that’s for sure.

He turns me around to face him as I let out a long breath but he's still holding my hand out at arm’s length.

"Please, Maggs. I'm sorry I said that. I wasn't judging you. I know I'm a hypocrite but I just wanted you to be sure before you jumped into bed with someone you barely know."

He pushes his soaking wet hair away from his face and wipes the water from his forehead with his sleeve. Why does he have to look so handsome when I probably look like a drowned rat?

"It's not like I'm a virgin. You don't need to defend my honour." I hear people snickering from the smoking shelter. Very mature.

"That's not what I'm doing."

"I'm not a delicate, little flower that you need to protect."

"Believe me, I know. I've spent the last 8 years stuck on the end of your stinger," he says, trying to make me smile with one of his charming grins as he steps closer to me. Our bodies are now mere inches apart and he's still holding my hand.

"I'm going home, Jake. You should go back inside. I'll see you Monday," I say, my voice sounding small. I don't move to leave; I don't think I'm able to step away from his warmth that I still crave.

"What about our plans tomorrow?" he asks, looking hurt.

"We have no plans, Jake. If this conversation had never happened, you would have cancelled them anyway. Right now, I can barely call you a friend which kills me because I had become so dependent on your friendship. Maybe that was our problem all along."

"Maggs, it’s got nothing to do with that. I'm sorry. Tell me how to make it better, give me a chance to make it up to you," he pleads with me. He tenderly pushes my wet hair from my face with his free hand, his warm fingers leaving a heat trail as I lean into his touch, wanting to be closer but knowing that I shouldn't. His other hand still clings to mine as though he doesn't want us to separate any more than I do. "I'm sorry for the way I've acted these two weeks, I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't want to hurt you. Please, believe me."

"I'm sure you are sorry but where was this attitude two weeks ago when I begged you not to push me away? That's the part that hurt me. You promised me you wouldn't and you did it anyway." I close my eyes while I try to compose myself. "Remember when you asked me to give you space and I did? For two whole weeks, I gave you space when you probably didn't deserve it," I say, unable to keep my eyes from filling up when I look at him one last time.

Finally, I gather enough courage to step out of his hold. His shoulders are slouched, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"I'm tired of it all, Jake. I'm tired of your mood swings and never knowing where I stand with you. I need a break from it all and maybe you should use the time to decide how you actually want me in your life."

I walk away, tears stinging my eyes but I am determined not to let him see me cry over our argument.

This time, he doesn't follow me. Instead, he lets me go.

I hear lighter footsteps running up behind me. "Maggie, wait," Laura links her arm through mine when she catches up and we walk back to my flat together in silence. She doesn't push me to talk about it or ask what was said.

She waits for me in my living room as I have a long, hot shower to try and warm up again. It's not until I change into my 'Do you even golf' T-shirt and sit down next to her on the sofa with my legs tucked beneath me that the first tears fall. She still doesn't speak, just moves me so my head is in her lap and strokes my hair gently, letting me cry until my tears dry up.

***

I wake up early the next morning, still on my sofa with Laura. I apologised to her for my breakdown, thanked her for staying with me and put on my best smile to convince her I was okay. Then, as soon as she left to go to work, the smile slipped, my chest caved in and I crawled into bed.

I'm so grateful for my best friend being here but I wished, more than anything, that I could talk to Philip. Philip always knew what to say when I was sad, he always knew what I should do when I had a problem. He always supported me, no matter what.

Would he know what I should do about Jake? Would he support my decision? Or would he be disappointed in me over the way things have turned out between us? That's the thing about losing someone you didn't think you could live without. You constantly think about the 'ifs'. You yearn for their answers that will never come, pine for their opinions and long for their advice.

"I know it's been a few weeks since I spoke to you. I thought I was doing better, I thought I was moving forward. It was what I wanted but I need you, right now. I need to know, what should I do?" I say as I curl up into a ball under my duvet.

Philip doesn't answer me. He never does. He can’t. He isn't here anymore.

It's just me, left to face my problems by myself.

I don't want to be alone.

***

It's been four days since our fight in the rain and I have made the best attempt to avoid Jake. He didn't try to call me and just sent me one text message that shattered me all over again. I left it un-answered.

Jake: Maggs, I miss you. x

For the entirety of yesterday and all this morning, we've both had separate, back-to-back meetings to catch up on things we had put aside to work on the Stephenson’s pitch so I haven't physically seen him, Until now, when he stands outside of our office on Tuesday lunchtime.

He walks in and closes the door behind him, something we only do when we don't want to be overheard.

"Maggie, can we talk?"

"Is it work related?"

"You know it's not."

"Then no. I have a lunch date I need to get to," I say as I stand from my chair. He quickly moves to slide between me and my desk, blocking me from my handbag.

I stand with my arms crossed, staring at him. Why is he doing this to me? Why is he torturing me like this?

"Laura is running late. Sasha asked me to tell you," he says, grinning at me with his eyes glimmering in the light.

"I had to endure the silent treatment from you for two whole weeks. Why should I let you off so soon?"

He leans against my desk, propping himself up with his hands on the edge. Yes, I notice he's tensing his muscles at me; he's literally pulling out the big guns in an attempt at getting me to talk to him. It's working; I can feel my anger at him melting away just like it did the other night when he looked so vulnerable in the rain.

Two can play at this game.

"Okay, let me ask you one question," I say, coming so close to him that I'm now standing between his legs. He lifts his hand to rest on my side, his thumb dangerously close to grazing my under boob. I lean forward and arch my back so my boobs push into him. I'm close enough that my mouth is level with his ear, one hand gripping his muscular shoulder and the other winding around his back.

Lowering my voice slightly, I continue. I can already see the goosebumps on his neck and the hairs on the back of my own stand up. "Think back to Friday night and the opinion you had on my sex life. What would you have said if it was you I wanted to sleep with? Would that have been okay with you?"

"I, uh.. Shit, what?" he whimpers and stutters, caught off guard. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat and his fingertips dig so hard into my ribs that it almost hurts. Jake Mills is nervous and maybe a little turned on.

I know I am.

I grab my bag from behind his back and straighten up while he is momentarily distracted. He clears his throat as I pat his cheek, thoroughly pleased with myself, before I move away from him. He doesn't move from the spot I leave him in.

"That's not fair," he shouts as I leave our office, waving at him behind me. "I can play dirty, too, Maggie. You may have won this round but, believe me, you'll be talking to me again by the end of the day."

Shit. I'm actually sweating at his threat.

***

When I return to my office after lunch Jake, is nowhere to be seen but, sat on my desk, is an orange and pink gift bag that reminds me of Bassets Fruit Salad Chews, my favourite sweets. I pick out the card that’s buried inside and slowly slide it out of the envelope. I smile as I see the familiar writing.

I'm a shithead, some may even say an asshat.

I let out a small laugh at the sentiment and take another look in the bag. I pull out a gift box and open it. My chest fills with warmth when I pull out a brand-new pair of white sand shoes.

"I've missed that smile, Maggs," he says quietly as he closes the door behind him.

He doesn't come any closer. Instead, he stands awkwardly with his hands stuffed in his pockets like he does when he's nervous.

"Thank you. I’m impressed that you got the right size," I say as I go to him. "The bag kind of makes me want some sweets though. You know they're my favourite," I say with a smile, letting him know that his thoughtful gift is appreciated.

He skips over to his desk and pulls out a huge jar with a big pink and orange bow. "I knew you'd say that so I got you this, too." I open the jar and see a mixture of Fruit Salad and Blackjack sweets.

"You really do know how to soften me up, don't you?" I say as I walk towards him and pull him in for a sweet cuddle, having to stand on my tip toes. Finally, he has realised the way to break me down is to be himself. I take a step back again and put the jar down on his desk.

"I am sorry, Maggie. Please, say you forgive me. I didn't mean it when I said we needed space from each other. I don't even know why I said it, I regretted it straight away. And I lied about that date, I made it all up. I guess I didn't want to seem like I was pathetically alone when you seemed so happy."

I take it all in, not really understanding why he would lie about having a date. I don't ask him why he was outside of my flat either, although I'm desperate to know. I don't think he's ready to tell me.

"I do forgive you but, please, don't do that to me again. We're supposed to be friends - best friends, even. Best friends don't shut down and push each other away for no apparent reason."

"I promise. I've missed you so much," he says, pulling me towards him again and wrapping his strong arms around me. I feel safe and warm again and all the tension that was between us feels like it had just been a bad dream.

I know things between us have changed on my part and it's something I need to deal with myself but I have already decided not to let that change anything between us or the work we do together. I just need to stay strong and keep the promise that I made myself, that I would lock those feelings up inside like everything else.

"I missed you, too, Jake," I say as he buries his face in my neck. "And, as a celebration of us being friends again-"

"Best friends!"

I smile at the correction. "Best friends… I'll let you cook me dinner tonight because, quite honestly, I've missed your cooking."

"Ah, you're using me for my cooking skills," he says with a chuckle, the brightness restored in his eyes. "I would be honoured."