Page 28 of One Night With You

I don’t know how to respond to that.

‘I’m really sorry if it’s my fault you’ve got it,’ she says.

‘No, it could be my fault,’ I reply.

‘Oh,’ she says, a bit disappointedly. ‘Yeah, of course. I just thought if you’d only just had a break-up that …’

I realise what she means. She thinks she’s one of many. ‘You’re … right,’ I say. ‘I just didn’t want to sound ungentlemanly. I had only been with Millie before you. If you must know.’

‘Well, you don’t need to protect me. I suppose I always knew my ex was seeing more than just me. If he was cheating with one woman, why not a harem of us?’

‘Sorry to say it then, but maybe you should let him know?’ I suggest.

‘Fuck,’ she breathes. ‘I hate that you’re right.’

‘I’m sorry we’re talking about your ex now,’ I say. ‘I didn’t mean to bring him up.’

‘It’s okay.’ She sighs. ‘Sorry. I sound annoyed but it’s not your fault. He’s just been texting, that’s all. I can delete those – but now I have to text back it will be like he’s won, or something.’

‘He’s no winner if he’s lost you,’ I say.

She bursts out laughing. ‘You should get T-shirts with that on,’ she quips. ‘Sell them on corny dot com.’

‘I was trying to make you feel better!’

‘It worked.’

‘I’m glad.’

There’s nothing left to say.

‘I like talking to you,’ I blurt out.

‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘Same.’

It feels like we’re both smiling, but neither of us speaks. If this was face to face it would make sense. You can stare at a person you like and grin like a loon but the effect isn’t the same down the phone.

‘Well …’ she concludes.

‘Sorry about the chlamydia,’ I say. ‘Let me know how you test?’

‘I’ll text you,’ she offers, and the promise of it is enough for me. ‘Bye, Nic.’

I’m smiling so much I think my cheeks are going to fall off. ‘Bye, Ruby.’

We ring off, and I can’t move. That was something else, man. It was really awesome to talk to her. My phone lights up in my hand.

Follow me back, asshole.

17

Ruby

What a gift to bring into my Year of Me, celebrating the entering of celibacy with an STI. I go to the clinic and within a day get the text confirming I’ve got it. It’s as if the universe has just underlined mymemo to selfto keep away from men and focus on myself, and my work – not to mention proving the point that Abe is a cretin. It must be from him. I’d put money on him knowing, and having got treatment for himself, and not having told anybody else. I’d wager a million on the fact. How did I ever get seduced by a moral-free man like that? I must have been iron-deficient, or in a nightmare, or consistently drunk. Especially comparing him to a guy like Nic, who gave me a call and was charming as he delivered the news.

He’s as lovely as I remember – he was even a gentleman when Harry yelled that thing about talking about him. I’ve only mentioned him once, in passing. Maybe twice. I’ve been wondering how he’s doing down there in London – how he’sfinding settling in, and playing dodgeball. I’ll bet he’s made loads of friends already through the team. Jackson is crap on the group text, but I can’t complain because I’m not much better. I do know Jackson sees him at practice though. I wonder if Nic has asked about me before now, when he needed my number. Not that he’s left a lasting impression or anything. I absolutely don’t regularly think about how he threw my legs over his shoulder like they were sacks of flour and I was dough about to be kneaded, or the way he used his tongue to tease between my legs long enough to make me come within about thirty seconds when he went down on me. I categorically do not think of him pinning down my arms above my head, so I writhed underneath him, when I am alone, right before I go to sleep and self-soothe with a little … well, you know. Self-soothing.

Before I can stop myself, I take another peek at his social media. I like that I can see what he’s getting up to online now. Year of Me meant that I haven’t looked at Nic’s stuff because there was just no point: I’m never going to see him again, by my own volition. But our chat gave me the excuse, and I will say he’s very handsome in his suit for work. Despite myself, I can’t help but notice he always has his sweaty arms slung around a pretty girl in dodgeball snaps where Jackson is always doing something stupid and outlandish in the background. If they get to know him in the biblical way that I got to know him, all I can say is Godspeed. They won’t forget it. I haven’t.

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