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Her lower lip trembles. “No. Not anymore.” Fuck me sideways all the way to hell and back. She’s not engaged!

Mia’s perfect face crumples and her eyes fill with tears. I feel just as shitty as the piece of scum I am for spying on her, then internally cheering when she told me about her breakup.

She collapses into my chest and I push down my feelings to concentrate on her. I stroke her hair for a minute while she cries.

When I realise she’s shivering, I gently disentangle myself from her arms and find a towel. The air is chilly and the window is still wide open, letting out all the steam from her shower. I switch off the water and shut the window, wrapping the towel around her before fetching another one for her dripping hair.

“I’m sorry.” She sniffs. “I didn’t mean to jump on you or cry on you. I’m a mess right now.”

“It’s me who should be sorry.” I tell her. “I shouldn’t have been watching you.”

She slaps my chest gently. “Do you spy on all your clients this way?”

I laugh. “You’re a lot more agile than the last client I spied on. Mrs Miles is eighty-three and when she caught me she nearly did her hip again leaping out of the shower to scold me.”

Mia giggles. “You um... you didn’t see anything, though did you?” She flushes.

She’s clearly asking me if I saw exactly what she was doing in the shower. While the memory of it will be replayed over and over in my head until the day I day, I’ll take that to my grave based on the way her blush tells me it makes her feel. “Just a little bit of nipple, I promise. If it makes you feel better, I thought I heard you fall over or I’d never have done it. I was climbing up fully prepared to find you with a broken leg or something.”

Her colour deepens. “Well, thank you, for coming to my rescue.”

“I think I should be thanking you for coming to mine.” There’s a pause. I should leave. I don’t want to, though. “Do you wanna talk about what happened? With your fiance?”

She sniffs again and nods. “Yeah. Maybe. That actually sounds good. I should probably get dressed, though.”

“Why don’t I make us a cuppa?”

“Thanks. I... I’d like that.” She gives me another watery smile and then heads for the master bedroom. I force myself to turn and walk down the stairs to the kitchen where I put the kettle on and try not to mentally retrace the contours of her body while I wait for the water to boil.

When Mia comes downstairs, she’s got on little pyjama shorts and my jumper over the top. I have to turn back to the counter for a moment and will my cock to behave.

I pour the tea and hand her a mug. “No sugar, right?”

She smiles. “That’s me. You’re sweet for remembering.”

I don’t tell her I’d like to memorise every damn thing about her. The way she takes her tea, the flare of her hips, the face she makes when she cums.

Fuck. Don’t do that now. She’s hurting. The last thing she needs is me drooling over her.

“’Course,” I mumble. “Come sit down.”

When we’re sitting on opposite sofas, each holding a steaming mug of tea in front of us, I figure she’s as safe as she’s going to get from me. “What happened?” I ask her gently.

She stares down into her tea for a moment. I can tell she’s fighting for control. Her lips press together in a firm line and her expression is tight. When she speaks, though, her voice is resolute and I have to admire her strength. “He’s cheating on me.”

I stare. “No! Are you sure?”

The look she shoots me is so incredulous, I realise what an asshole I sound like.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just that he must be crazy. If you were mine—” I shake my head and try again. “He must be crazy to cheat on a girl like you.”

Her fiery look subsides into something much softer. “Really?”

I nod. “Seriously. Crazy.” I make a loopy gesture with my finger at the side of my head that earns me a giggle.

“Thanks. You don’t know how much better that makes me feel. I started to think—well nevermind.” Mia tells me the story of how her friend found Oliver with another woman. I listen, shaking my head at the foolishness. Couldn’t he see how lucky he was?

“That sucks.”

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