Page 61 of Not Falling for the Forward
I shrug, “I guess.”
“Fucking weird thing for siblings to be even about…” Emily says, a smirk on her face. She turns and walks back towards the kitchen throwing over her shoulder, “I’m gonna make something to eat. Aimee, do you want to join us for breakfast?”
Chapter twenty-seven
Emily
A few weeks later, I still can’t believe Jack wants to be all in with me. He has continued to ‘woo’ me, with gifts, dates and little reassurances where I need them. And the SEX! God, that is so good! Like so fucking amazing.
He's remained consistent all round, which is why, yesterday when we stopped in a cafe for a coffee and he snapped a picture of our cups on the table—my tights clad legs well in view in the background—I didn’t complain when I saw that it had ended up on his public Instagram story. He has a private account, which around one hundred of his close friends and family follow and my face has already been on that. It was a repost from Aimee’s account; a group pic from a dinner we had together, after we hit it off at that first breakfast. The minimal replies he had got from that were all messages saying how ‘cute’ we are together—his youngest sister—and how ‘gorgeous’ I was—his mum.
His public page? That is a different story. That has millions of people watching it and it didn’t take long for a trashy tabloid to notice my leg and create a story about a ‘mystery woman.’ ‘Sources say it’s thesame woman he was at the restaurant with last month,’ ‘has the heart throb football star finally fallen?’Crazy how a picture of my knee and two coffee cups on a table could ignite such discussion.
Following the unveiling of the rumour came the obvious trolls. Some claiming to be on my side warning me away from the ‘man whore.’ But it was mostly just people who were assuming I was some ‘vapid dumb bimbo just out for his money, and I would get what I deserved.’
Lovely.
At first, I was worried that people would talk and make up things about us. That they would somehow track me down and reveal all my dirty secrets to the world; not that I have any. Well… maybe that time I peed myself when I was vomiting from Norovirus but I’m pretty sure I only told Jess and she will take all my secrets to the grave.
Then people did talk, and I read it. Well, Jack and I read it together, cuddled up on my sofa, with a glass of wine. And it was funny. Some of it was mean and not deserved. But some of it was so utterly outrageous and inflated, that we couldn’t help but laugh about it. The more wine we drank, the funnier it got. The funnier it got, the lighter it felt, and in one night all my worries about what people would think about me dating Jack were squashed. Not gone, but less.
Jack wanted the word to know he was no longer single; he wanted to show them me. Or at least, as much as I would let him. It felt like he was proud to be with me. Like he was not just showing them, but showing me, that he was all in with this.
Cracks have started to form in the wall I have built back up around my heart.
I sigh into my morning coffee as I think about the whirlwind that has been the last few months. “That was the most ‘ooh Mr Darcy’ sigh I’ve ever heard,” Jess says looking up from her phone. We’re sat in thebreak room, on one of the very rare breaks we get together. She lifts a brow, “You thinking of lover boy?”
“Oooh, has Emily finally moved on?” Clara, one of our health care assistants asks. “Is this the one that sent those flowers a few months back?” I shoot Jess a glare, missing the time when we didn’t have our breaks together.
“Oooh yeah, they’re in deep now, he soft launched her on Sunday,” Jess grins. I continue to shoot daggers with my eyes at her.
“Did he do that first? He must really like you,” Clara says, eating up the gossip.
“He thinks she’s a keeper. Says she’s real striking. Feels so lucky when he scores.”
“Okay. Thank you. Enough now,” I interrupt Jess’ horrific football puns. “Proud of those ones?” I ask.
“I really am,” she nods, grinning from ear to ear.
“So… Who is he? What does he do?” Clara asks. I cringe not sure how to answer. I can’t tell her the truth, she’s the wards biggest gossip. The director of nursing will know about my new ‘relationship’—or whatever—before I’ve finished my shift. Hell, before my break is over. “Ummm…” I hedge.
“He’s just some guy she met at her volunteer gig. It’s cute really, he saw her in all that florescent panelling and thought, ‘she’s the one for me’,” Jess says, saving the day.
“Ohhhh how sweet,” Clara squeaks, a dreamy smile on her face, apparently placated for now. Thankfully, she drops it and goes back to probing another one of our colleagues about the reason she was off sick for over a month. Like it’s any of her business.
I kick Jess’ leg under the table, “Thanks, you big pot stirrer.”
“Ouch, and you’re welcome.” She shrugs, “Figured you’d never tell anyone you are off the market and now hopefully word will get backto Chris that you’re happy and moved on and he can go and fuck himself.”
I huff a laugh at my protective best friend. Honestly, I haven’t thought about Chris for weeks now, maybe even months. But, what else are friends for apart from actively hating your ex’s, even past the point of you being well over them.
***
Jack
Emily is naked, on her back, her legs bent at the knees and spread wide so I can see all of her.
Her vibrator slides in and out of her glistening wet pussy. Her fingers circle that sensitive nub above. “Jack,” she moans. I fucking love the sound of my voice on her lips on a normal day; but in that needy, breathy tone she uses when she’s at the edge, it’s like music to my fucking ears.
