My Ten-Year Crush by Olivia Spring

Chapter Fifteen

Istood in Covent Garden Piazza, which wasn’t far from the language school. Mike was right. It was a gorgeous evening. The sun was shining, the sky was blue. A large crowd had gathered on the cobbles to watch a mime artist dressed as Charlie Chaplin.

I loved coming here. It was always buzzing with tourists who’d flocked to see the street performers, visit the market or the museums, or just come to eat and drink at the many restaurants and bars lining the streets.

‘Sorry about that.’ Mike rushed up to me. ‘One of the teachers cornered me.’

‘Wanted to invite you to have a drink?’ Oops… the question just slipped out.

‘Something like that…’

‘Must be exhausting for you, having to fend off female attention every day.’

‘Please!’ He rolled his eyes. ‘It’s not like I’m Robert Pattinson or some sexy rock god like Lenny Kravitz. It’s only stars like them that get a lot of attention.’

I didn’t know how he couldn’t see the way women melted around him.

‘You’re either blind or stupid if you can’t see the effect you have. And I know you’re not stupid.’ Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

‘Yeah—women talk to me, and I’m lucky that if I approach one I like, she’s usually receptive. But it doesn’t mean every female likes me. And it doesn’t mean I like every woman that approaches me either. I’m not just a piece of meat, you know. I have feelings too!’ He clutched his heart, then burst out laughing.

‘Awww. Poor thing.’ I rubbed his shoulder. ‘Always being objectified.’ I was definitely guilty of that. Could you blame me? Even his shoulders were sexy. So muscular… I pulled my hand away quickly. I needed to behave myself. ‘Anyway, what’s the rule on socialising with students outside of lessons? Are we even allowed to be seen together, or is that why we meet away from the building?’

‘As a general rule, I’m guessing it’s not encouraged, but we’ve been friends for years, so it’s different. To me anyway. I think as long as they don’t walk in on us going at it on the desk, we should be good…’ He winked.

Oh my God.

I blushed as a mental image of Mike pushing me down on the desk and ravishing me flashed through my mind. My entire body started sparking and I wondered if he was just talking generally—you know, giving an example—or if there was the remotest possibility that he’d ever thought of doing that, to me.

As if.

Even if by some major miracle he was interested in me (which of course he wasn’t), despite what he’d said about not doing the one-night stand thing anymore, I knew he’d still only want something short-term, and I wasn’t into flings. I wanted to find someone who was ready to commit and settle down. And that definitely wasn’t Mike.

‘Well, as long as you can control yourself, then we should be all good.’ I smiled, thinking I was the one who needed to rein it in. Mike held my gaze and his eyes darkened…

Hold on…

I could have sworn that I felt something. Really subtle. It was the way he looked at me. There was a kind of twinkle in his eye. No. I must be seeing things. It was probably hay fever. My eyes always went funny at this time of year if I didn’t take my allergy tablets.

‘You hungry?’ Mike broke the spell.

‘Always.’

‘There’s a food truck along the South Bank that does the most amazing burger and fries. We could walk there and then sit on a bench and eat?’

It was Wednesday, so I already had tonight’s dinner all planned. Maybe I could freeze it and cook it next Wednesday instead? Yes. That could work.

‘Okay!’ I grinned. ‘You know how much I love a good burger.’

When we were at uni, pizza had been our go-to meal on Friday nights or whenever we were cramming for exams or trying to finish a dissertation. But burgers were what we ate for a treat. They were our special thing.

We experimented with different types. Everything from big fat juicy beef patties to chicken burgers and spicy bean burgers. We tried different fillings and attempted to make our own versions before deciding it was easier to just buy them. We even had our own poll of the top ten. Everyone thought we were sad, but it was just another thing we bonded over.

Maybe for me it was like a form of rebellion or freedom. My parents never let me eat fast food when I was a kid and so it wasn’t something I was used to having. But then one day Mike brought back a burger from somewhere in town and it smelt so delicious, I asked if I could have a bite. Mike happily cut off a big helping (he always shared his food with me) and after one mouthful I was hooked.

‘Well, I don’t know. You’re all grown up and sophisticated now, so you could be a vegetarian or exist solely on a diet of spinach or something.’

‘I do eat pretty clean most of the time,’ I said, ‘but I haven’t had a big dirty burger in ages, and you worked us hard in the lesson today, so I deserve it.’

‘You haven’t seen anything yet, Bells. Wait until you see what I’ve got lined up for tomorrow…’

We weaved through Covent Garden, then over to Embankment, where we walked across the Golden Jubilee Bridge to the South Bank. I saw multiple iconic monuments in all their glory from across the Thames. To my left was St Paul’s Cathedral in the distance, and to my right I spotted Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament and the London Eye.

We went down the steps and strolled beside the river. Just as I watched a boat cruising down the Thames, Mike took my hand and led me to the truck that was now just metres away. Feeling the heat from his palms sent shockwaves through me. The sensation of my fingers woven between his felt so natural. It was like my hands were made to fit perfectly in his.

It wasn’t unusual for Mike to hold my hand like this. He was very tactile. Where others might greet each other with a simple hello or kiss on the cheek, Mike went all in with big bear hugs. I remembered whenever he was excited to show me something, he used to always take my hand to drag me to see it.

‘What do you fancy?’ He released my hand and pointed to the board with all the options. Shame. I was enjoying that.

I resisted the temptation to say ‘you: you’re exactly what I fancy’ and focused on the menu written in white chalk on the blackboard instead.

‘I’d recommend getting Down & Dirty…’

‘What?’

My eyes popped out of their sockets. Ever since I’d seen him at the reunion, and especially since we’d spent more time together last night, I’d been trying to push naughty thoughts of him out of my mind. Telling myself that we were just friends and could never be more. But my willpower was wavering.

I was already unravelling. All those years of hard work, trying to suppress my feelings, and just a few days of seeing Mike had sent them rushing to the surface. In fact, they were already bubbling over.

The truth was getting down and dirty with him was more than appealing, but I knew that wasn’t what he was referring to.

‘It’s got the works. Cheese, tomato, lettuce, burger sauce, mustard and, of course, gherkins. They’re still your favourite, right?’

‘You remembered!’

‘Of course!’ I loved pickles in a burger. Mike used to take them out of his burger and put them in mine because he knew how much I adored them.

‘And you? Still extra cheese with a part-time aversion to onions?’ I raised my eyebrow. ‘I’m totally on board with cheese. I love it almost as much as you do. But having a burger without onions should be illegal. You’ve got to have onions. Remind me why you didn’t have them again?’

‘It wasn’t all of the time,’ Mike said. ‘Just sometimes I went without them out of courtesy.’

‘Courtesy?’ I frowned.

‘You know, if I was going out and I had plans to get close to someone at the end of the night…’

‘Ohhh…’ Message received loud and clear.

‘Can I help you?’ said the server.

‘Erm, two Down and Dirtys, please, with fries. Can we have one burger with extra gherkins, lots of mustard and ketchup for the lady and I’ll have mine with extra cheese and no onions…’ He faced me and smiled.

No onions…

Mike had that look in his eye again. Did this mean…? For a split second I considered if he was thinking of kissing me later, then quickly pushed the ridiculous thought out of my mind before my imagination started working overtime. Again.

It was just Mike being Mike. Being flirtatious. This was probably one of the reasons I’d fallen for him in the first place. He just didn’t know how to turn off the charm. He flirted a bit with every woman he met, didn’t mean he was interested. Just a habit of his, that was all.

Mike ordered two Diet Cokes and we laughed at how we used to always have it whenever we had junk food as if we were hoping it would magically cancel the thousands of calories we were about to consume. We found a bench, sat down and got stuck into our food.

‘So what’s the plan after you finish the course?’ Mike took another chunk of his burger and then closed his eyes like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

‘Um…’ I paused. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to tell him. ‘The more I study this course, the more I love it and feel like this kind of career could be ideal for me, so naturally, teaching English as a second language to adults would be the dream—one day, but I’m not doing the course to get that kind of job straight away. First, I need to prove that I can handle the pressure and pass, so I can line myself up for a promotion. And if that doesn’t work, then next summer I’ll start researching opportunities to maybe teach abroad the following year or just look for opportunities in London. We’ll see. The course is part of a long-term plan.’

‘Prove yourself?’ Mike’s face crumpled. ‘To who?’

‘My… boss…’

‘Where do you teach again?’

Last time he’d asked, I’d managed to avoid answering the question fully, but I wasn’t sure I could get away with it again.

‘St Andrew’s…’ I crossed my fingers tightly, hoping he wouldn’t remember.

‘Isn’t that where you went to school? Where your dad’s a teacher?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Wait…’ Mike’s forehead was now more wrinkled than a linen suit. ‘So your dad is the head teacher?’

‘Yes…’ I hung my head. I felt bad for being ashamed. Dad was good at his job. He’d worked hard to get and retain that position for so long. Did everyone love him? Absolutely not, but most people respected him.

My embarrassment was more a reflection of myself. It always sounded so lame telling people we were related. I knew they’d assume I’d got the job because he’d handed it to me. That was why I always had to work extra hard to prove that I was worthy and had earned it fair and square. Which was why passing this course was so important. It had nothing to do with Dad. He didn’t even know I was doing it, and he’d have no say in whether or not I passed. My achievements would be entirely down to my own merits.

‘Oh, Bells! You shouldn’t have to keep proving yourself to him. I know he’s your dad, but if he’s anything like he was when we were at uni, it must be a nightmare working under him.’

‘It has its challenges,’ I said diplomatically. ‘Even after all this time, he doesn’t think I’m ready for the promotion…’ Once I started talking I couldn’t stop. Everything just poured out of me. Being passed up for the promotion, feeling like I was stagnating, going round and round on a hamster wheel, not wanting to let my dad down…

‘I hate to break it to you, but whether you wait one more year, two or three, he’ll still say the same thing. He doesn’t want you to change, grow or achieve big things because if you do, you’ll realise there’s a big world out there and will want to leave and he won’t be able to control you.’

‘Controlling? No. Overprotective? Definitely. It’s true that if Dad had his way, I would always be his little girl and stay at the school forever, but I know deep down he wants the best for me.’

Dad knew how upset I got whenever I failed and didn’t want me to get hurt. That was why he always encouraged me to accept my capabilities and ‘stay in my lane’. It was like a vicious cycle, though. Whenever I tried something and messed up, I’d feel like he was right all along: that I shouldn’t push myself too hard and should just accept that I wasn’t able to change. That was why this course was important. To prove to him and myself that I was capable of more.

‘If I was you, I’d leave ASAP. You’d be brilliant at teaching English to speakers of other languages. You could travel all over the world. Any school would be lucky to have you. Don’t wait. Life isn’t promised. Get the ball rolling. Now.’

‘Now?’ My eyes widened. I knew I wanted to make some adjustments to my life, but baby steps… ‘I can’t just swan off to another country. I’ve got responsibilities. I’ve got to think about my pupils—I can’t up and leave. It would take a lot of time to plan such a big move. Huge changes need to be thought through carefully. I’d need at least a year. I’d have to update my CV, look for jobs, go to interviews, and even if I found a position, I’d have to give a whole term’s notice. I couldn’t just go anywhere on a whim either. I’d need to research the areas I’d like to teach in, go over there to visit in person…’

My head was spinning just thinking about it. If I did go abroad, I was thinking of heading to China. When I’d researched it last year, there had seemed to be a lot of opportunities for English teachers there. Plus, I’d always liked the idea of visiting Asia one day and it’d be much easier to travel to other cool places like Australia, Bali and the Maldives too.

‘And then there’s my flat. Renting it out would take time. I need to research estate agents, do viewings, vet the potential tenants…’

‘Breathe!’ Mike quickly wiped his hands on a serviette, then rested them on my shoulders. ‘You’re overthinking. All these things are easy to resolve. Like I said to Faye earlier, when you look at everything at once, it can feel overwhelming. But if you break it down, it’s less scary. Take our burgers. We didn’t just shove the whole thing in our mouths. If we did, we’d probably choke and die. Instead, we ate it bit by bit. It’s the same for your career. You can’t change it all at once. Think of it as stages—bite-sized burger chunks. Doing this course is a big piece, and obviously that needs to be your focus, but I’d also recommend updating your CV ASAP.’

‘I will. Once the course is over.’

‘I wouldn’t wait until then to start. Teaching English as a foreign language is an amazing career, and the more people that get their PEFLITC qualification, the more competitive it’ll become. Every time the course finishes, there’s a fresh batch of candidates all looking for work. Thanks to your experience, you’re already ahead, but why not give yourself an even better chance by preparing it now, so you’re ready to seize any opportunities that come up? Isn’t that what you’re all about, Bells? Planning in advance?’

Hmmm.When he put it like that…

‘What you’re saying makes sense, but preparing a strong CV takes time. I’ve already got my hands full, and after being in the same job for almost a decade, I don’t have a lot of experience with doing them.’

I hadn’t looked at my CV since applying for that job last year, and it was pretty basic. I’d wanted to improve it several times since then but always thought I was being disloyal to Dad because I’d agreed to wait and see what opportunities came up at the school.

‘I can help if you want? As you know, I’m a bit of a professional tart. I never stay in one job for too long, so I’ve had to update my CV a lot. I’d be happy to give you some pointers.’

‘Really?’ My eyes widened. ‘This is a whole new world for me, so any advice you can give would be brilliant. Thanks.’

‘No worries.’

‘Not right now, though. Maybe sometime next week, once I’ve got into more of a routine with the assignments and planning.’

‘Okay. It’ll be easier if we block out some time to work on it together. Just tell me when’s good and I can come to yours and we can just bang it out.’

Bang it out…

Damn. I knew it wasn’t intentional on Mike’s part, but these double entendres were driving me crazy.

‘Banging it out next week would be great…’ I resisted the temptation to smirk. At least I hoped I did. I stuffed a few chips in my mouth as a diversion, just in case.

‘Cool. It’s a date.’

There he went again. I wondered if he really meant date as in… No. Seriously. Get. A. Grip.

‘Great.’

‘I see you still do that thing with your fries.’

‘What thing?’

‘Eating all of your fries before you eat your burger,’ Mike said.

I remembered he used to tease me about this. I supposed it was a habit, and half the time I didn’t even realise I was doing it.

‘It’s the logical thing to do,’ I said. ‘Fries get cold faster than burgers. And who wants to eat cold fries? Plus, when you let the burger sit for a few minutes, it gives more time for the cheese and everything to melt together. What?’ Mike’s mouth twitched. I narrowed my eyes. ‘Stop looking at me like I’m crazy!’

‘You said it, not me!’ Mike laughed. ‘I like to alternate. Eat a bit of burger first—after all, that’s the main part of the meal—and then some fries. Then maybe some more fries at the same time as the burger. I don’t really have any rules.’

When I thought about it, that was me all over. Always one to follow rules, rituals and routines, even with food. Eating cod on Thursdays and salmon on Tuesdays. Why was I so rigid? Having to finish all of the fries before I allowed myself to take a bite of the burger. If mixing up the way I ate a burger and fries was my idea of living on the edge, I clearly needed to let go a bit more. No—a lot more.

I took a big bite of my burger. It was delicious. And I loved the taste of the mustard and ketchup together.

‘You’ve got…’ Mike traced his finger just below my lip, wiping away some mustard, then licking his finger, slowly.

Damn.

My heart started fluttering and my blood raced through my veins. Who knew that dribbling a bit of mustard down my chin could turn into something so hot? I quickly took a sip of my drink to cool me down.

After we’d finished eating, we strolled down past the Southbank Undercroft—a skateboard park.

‘Do you mind if we stop here for a sec?’ Mike asked.

‘No—go for it.’

We stood behind the barrier and watched different skateboarders skating past the graffiti-covered pillars and over the concrete ledges, banks and stairs.

‘Brings back memories of when I used to come here as a kid.’

‘I didn’t know you skated?’

‘Yeah—I used to love it. I started off at home. Y’know, just on the pavements, and then one of my mates brought me here. I was so terrified at first. Everyone else was so good, so I spent ages just standing behind this barrier, too scared to climb over and try. But once I did, I was hooked. I used to come here every Saturday afternoon. I even taught my sister here too.’

‘Lyra skated?’

‘Yeah. She loved it. Loads of people said it was for boys, but I didn’t see why she shouldn’t be able to enjoy skating just because she was a girl.’

Stood beside us was a woman, cheering on her son. He didn’t look more than about seven and was skating up and down near the barriers. I liked how everyone, whether they were experienced or novices, respected each other’s space.

‘That’s my boy!’ she said proudly.

‘He’s very good,’ said Mike.

‘Thanks! He loves coming here.’

‘I was just saying that I used to love coming here too. Back in the dark ages when I was young.’

The woman giggled and started twirling her hair around her fingers. Was there any woman who didn’t fancy him?

Suddenly there was a scream. We looked over to see her son on the floor crying, rubbing his knee, which had been grazed and was now bleeding.

‘Peter!’ she shouted. ‘Oh, my poor baby.’

Mike jumped over the barrier, rushed over to the boy, scooped him and his skateboard out of the way and carried him over to his mum.

‘Owww! It hurts, Mummy!’ he cried out as she assessed the damage.

‘I told you to wear your knee pads!’ He cried louder. ‘Sorry to shout, darling. I just…’

‘It doesn’t look too bad.’ Mike lifted Peter over the barrier and then climbed back over. ‘If you come with me, I can carry him to the Southbank Centre to see if they have a first aid kit to get this cleaned up?’

‘Would you? That would be amazing, thank you!’

He readjusted Peter in his arms and carried him effortlessly, like he was holding onto a bag of sugar.

Luckily, they had a first aid kit and Mike quickly cleaned the wound and wrapped it up.

‘How’s that?’ he asked Peter.

‘Much better.’

‘I can’t thank you enough,’ his mum said. ‘Your boyfriend is the sweetest. You’re a very lucky woman.’ She smiled.

‘He’s not my…,’ I stuttered. ‘We’re just friends…’

‘Hold on to that one,’ she added as they both waved goodbye.

‘Well, that was impressive,’ I said.

‘What, rubbing an antiseptic wipe over a graze?’ Mike shrugged his shoulders. ‘Not really. I just did what anyone would have done. If my son or daughter had fallen off their skateboard and hurt themselves, I’d hope someone would help them too.’

‘You’d like kids?’

‘Definitely.’

What? Who was this guy and what had he done with the Mike I knew?

‘I thought you always said that you were going to live the bachelor life forever?’ I remembered him saying that during our first year of uni.

‘I know you’ve got this image of me being flighty, and yeah, to a degree I am with some things. I like variety. I like to try new things and be challenged, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to settle down. I’d love to have a family. With the right woman…’

So Mike wasn’t anti-long-term commitment anymore?

Seriously?

This man was killing me.

Spending time with him over the past few days had reminded me of exactly why I’d fallen for him all those years ago and why my crush had been so hard to overcome.

Up until tonight, I’d thought the idea of him seeing me as more than a friend was ludicrous. A hundred percent never going to happen.

But after the few exchanges we’d shared this evening, the subtle looks, the way he seductively wiped the mustard from my lips… I was starting to believe that maybe that figure might be edging closer, perhaps to ninety-five percent.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny chance that the feelings growing inside of me weren’t just one-sided after all…