With a cigarette in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other, I should be horrified at the sight of him smoking, but in his tight black jeans and denim shirt, he looks hot as hell. Matteo walks closer until he stands right above me. "How was today for you?" His eyes meet mine. He takes one final drag and drops it to the ground, stubbing it with his loafers."Good! I bet you had a good time?" I grin. I bet he did. All the bride maids practically trapped him on the dance floor. Why isn't he with one of them, instead of out here with me?"I did, but there was one person I would have liked to dance with," he murmurs, looking at me."Emily? I think she's still inside," I tease. Carrying that bouquet like a trophy. "I meant you."I blush, looking at him curiously. "Why?" All of a sudden, he makes his way over and sits down next to me. I feel self-conscious at how close he is sitting next to me. "What do you mean 'why'?" He downs the rest of his wine and puts the glass down.
The sunlight glares my eyes and my eyes jolt up into consciousness. The sheets are so soft and comfortable. I wake up with a tranquillity one can only get when they wake up alone in bed. I look to my left, to confirm what I knew. He's gone. But that's okay, we didn't need to say goodbye. It would be almost too sad. Instead I wake up with a smile on my face, a perfect ending to my trip here. I got to spend one night with a hot Italian. All I can say is I feel content.Kicking off the satin sheets, I wake?up with my hair oozing past my shoulders. I stayed up late and I am definitely still hung over but dammit I feel good at how this trip has ended and how last night went down. After agreeing to pose for him again, Matteo got dressed and went to his hotel room to grab his sketchbook and came right back, and he sketched me until the wee hours of the morning until I fell asleep. I don't know if he stayed with me or if he left straight after; either way it was the perfect send off. Gabe
I watch my brown flats take steps across the glossy white tiles, pulling my weekend bag behind me as I check my phone for the fourth time. Thank god I'm back on flat land; sitting for thirteen hours, at thirty thousand feet above the ground, is long enough. If only Gabe was here because I'm stuck with a five-hour transit at Terminal 3, Singapore Changi Airport while I wait to go sky high again. What the heck am I going to do with myself for five hours at the airport? I don't particularly like duty free shopping, and I can only enjoy surfing on the internet for so long.?Oh, what the heck. I walk a bit faster, eager to check out the shops. Let's see what the airport has. Fifty-five minutes pass and I would be happy to never look at souvenirs, key chains, and calendars again. I bought a pack of hand creams for mum, a polo shirt for dad, and a silk shirt and belt for Hansley. Tristan's gift is already with me. I wasn't planning on getting him something, but as soon as I saw it, I knew
BOOK THREE: BANGKOKTristan. Is. Standing. In. Front. Of. Me.My brother's best friend, my soon-to-be new boss, the guy who I shared that ridiculously hot kiss with, is standing in front of me. The guy I hadn't seen for years prior to that kiss. The guy who then decided afterwards that the kiss was a mistake and that it can never happen again. The guy who I, despite my best judgments, can't stop thinking about.How can one person be all these different things at once?I have to cast that aside. Nothing can ever happen between us. He's right, nothing can happen between us. Or nothing will, not that there's a difference. All that history and now: this new association we have formed. I have to take him out of the potential boyfriend box and back into the old one I shelved him in guys I would never 'go for'. I'm just going to ignore all the thoughts I had about him.I'm going to have to ignore the fact that my heart is fluttering like a hummingbird at the sight of him this ve
I turn away from him to face the bar, poking the ice in the drink with my straw. He said he wanted to keep it professional, but he's talking about it. And joking about it, no less. "Sorry, too soon?" He finally says, his tone slightly edgy.I pause for a moment, lost on how to answer. I can feel him watching me as I keep my focus on the glass. "No, its fine," I take a quick sip of my sip.He looks relieved, "Thank god""It's not like it was that good," I mutter under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear. "Excuse me?" I can hear the disbelief in his tone.Boy, it feels fantastic to insult him, even if I'm lying. "You heard me." He's the recipient of the coldest glare I can give him while holding back my laugh.I can practically hear him grit his teeth, and he pours the rest of his whiskey sour down his throat in one swift movement. Not the best idea, how much has he had to drink?Slamming the glass down on the table, he looks at me. Eyes blazing. "No one has said tha
He thinks about me? I can't even Without giving a chance to react he grabs my waist and pulls me to him, and that static is there again. It's electric and undeniable; judging by the way his pupils dilate I can tell he feels it too. Of course he's not crazy! I won't admit it. I can't succumb to him, when we both know how irresponsible this is. He must have women throw themselves at him, leaving a trail of heartbreak along the way. I'm not going to be one of them, especially given our new working relationship. I have to stop this before it escalates further, before it all overflows. I try and push his hand away but he keeps it lodged there, locked firmly into position. "You are crazy, you don't have thoughts about me," I lie, obeying his command, though my words ring false even to my own ears. "And I have not been having thoughts about you.""Then why are you shaking? Why is your mouth dry?" He stares down at me, his eyes never leaving my lips. "Tell me I don't have an effect on y
I walk up to the door, dragging my luggage behind me. I grab my keys but before I insert it into the keyhole, I stop. Even though I have only been away for three weeks, my place won't be the same now as I last saw it.Adam won't be here anymore, his presence and essence will be completely gone. I live alone now, and when I walk through the door it will be real. Come on, just open the door. I was going to have to deal with this eventually. Taking a deep breath, I insert the key and turn right, entering the well-lit living room. It's still all there the deceptively real looking pink hydrangeas on the hall table, the soft tinkling of the wind chimes out on the patio. The creamy yellow paint centres the room, adding another level of brightness normal white paint cannot achieve.Taking in a subtle scent of lavender, I look at the large diffuser sitting next to the pink hydrangeas. It's good to be back home, my home. A modest two-bedroom unit in the suburb of Stanmore, it's infused
There is a fragrance here, a distinctive aroma of zooming tuk tuks and hustle and bustle that is uniquely south-east Asia. And the heat is uniquely south-east Asian too. As soon as I step out of Suvarnabhumi Airport, the heat rains down on me like an eternal hot breath. I'm really happy I'm here in Bangkok! Mostly I'm happy to be on flat land again, and in one piece - I'm surprised that I made it through the flight okay. Having half a bottle of merlot helps, as well as this handy rubber band distraction technique I looked up. It involves placing a rubber band around my wrist and every time I feel twitchy, I pop it against my skin.The redness on the inside of my wrist proves that I got twitchy, a lot.Turbulence is a bitch, too, and unfortunately common. I cringe when I think back to how many times I had to ask the stewardess for help when the plane shook. I'm rather proud of my behaviour on my first flight without prescription drugs, though. Hopefully, I do better the next time. M
"God, you do sound like a pom, you've definitely been here too long," Tristan teases over the way I unintentionally pronounced yoghurt in a British accent. "Have not! Although the winters here are chilly, I miss our summer Christmases.""That's okay, I'm here to keep you warm."I bite my lip, loving how close he is to me. "So, what are you doing all the way out here?"He smirks at me, his gaze full of warmth. "I think you have an idea, no?" My cheeks warm as he huddles closer to my body, his height towering over me. We're standing on the end of Waterloo Bridge, the River Thames and the London Eye lying behind us like a beautiful backdrop. It's dark and the surrounding trees on the footpath are beautifully bright, adorned in blue lights. It was drizzling earlier, but it's now stopped and the pavement is mildly damp, adding to the general chill of the city. My suitcase by my side, Tristan is hovering over me as he backs me into the walled railing, his gloved hands rubbing my arms
Tristan. Is. Here. In.London.Specifically, he is outside the house where I have been living in London, with another man. A man who I've just broken up with. "Taxi Delivery Service, how may I help you?" the phone operator utters on the other end of the line, but it fails to reach my consciousness.Whathowwhoso many incomprehensible thoughts are racking through my mind right now. My heart is pounding like a jack hammer at the sight of him in a long black coat, jeans and scarf. The coffee eggnog is really not helping right now. "Hi" I whisper, barely audible. My insides are flooding with nerves. A jar of butterflies has dropped inside my stomach and they are flying everywhere."Hello? Is anyone there?" The call operator speaks through the receiver. I use any semblance of my wit to press the hang up button, my fingers are shaky as I keep my eyes locked on Tristan. What is he doing here?There's a black taxi on the kerb behind him, presumably the one that dropped him off. It does
I walk up to the door, a full gift bag in each of my hands. I drop my bag to get the key when Giles, the driver, walks up to me. "Let me get the bag, Miss." Giving him a polite smile, I let him hold the bag as I open the door. "Thank you," I say as I open the door and he puts the bags right inside the entrance."Have a nice Christmas, Miss Ryan." Giles, the driver smiles at me warmly before he starts walking off. "Thank you, same to you and your family. Merry Christmas!" I give him a fat grin and wave at him.Closing the door, my smile drops instantly and I clench my jaw at how irritated I am. It's Christmas Eve, the jolliest time of year. I've just come back from Amelia and Kieran's beautiful house in Hertfordshire where I had lunch with them and I am lightly tipsy from Kieran's egg nog coffee punch. Everything was so delicious. Caramelized onion tarts with apples. Brussel sprouts with chestnuts & sage. Chunky roast potatoes. Crisp honey mustard parsnips. Bacon, sausage & prun
It's the Christmas season! The days are short, nights are long, showers go longer. There are so many things I love about winter. I love making hot Belgian chocolate and those little marshmallows, I love snuggling up on the couch with a book in my thick robe and furry shoes, a doona draped over me. I love the food associated with winter: soups, casseroles, roasts. I'll be spending my first Christmas in London, and Amelia has invited Edmund and me over to their place for lunch Christmas Eve. I cannot wait to have my first proper winter Christmas. I just hope Edmund can make it. I'm sure that work will die down by then and I can have some quality time with him, the fun Edmund I haven't seen too much since I've been here. There's still been no progress on the assistant front, so I've been keeping busy by pursuing culinary perfection. With another two weeks to go until the day, I've been in the kitchen non-stop since I've arrived and I like to think my cooking skills have improved immense
I plop my head on the fluffy mattress, panting loudly as I let the post coital experience wash over me. Something is wrong with me. I just slept with my boyfriend for the first time, but I came thinking about my ex-fake husband. No, it was purely coincidental. It's just the half bottle of pinot gris swirling in my head, that's it surely. Instead, I'm going to bask in how nice that was.That was not bad, not bad at all. It wasn't fireworks but it was nice and efficient. He definitely knows a thing or two about pleasing a woman, that's for sure. He was very attentive, gentle, tender even. Just what I like - what I prefer. Unlike Tristan, who is all so aggressive. The way he grabs my hips so roughly, the way he pulls my hair, the way he bites my lip andgah! No more reminiscing! I'm so ashamed of myself, what's wrong with me? Noit's just a once-off. It won't happen again. I'm sure of it."How was that for you?" Edmund asks coolly as he looks down at me. His face is slick with a thin la
My feet tapping against the leg of the small mahogany table, I check my phone to see if there are any text messages. Nope, nothing. My guest should be on time, I'm just early. Looking around the café, I'm glad this place was picked. I'm sitting in the middle of The Purple Hare, a rustic and inviting mahogany infused restaurant in the middle of Chelsea. Packed to the brim with drunk and merry locals clad in wintry garb, the woody and earthy ambience mixed with the smell of Guinness, grilled steak and mashed potatoes makes the place feel like a second home almost. I am about to press the call button when the door flies open. "Hey!" Amelia waves excitedly at me but my mouth pops open at the sight of her in a long black parka jacket, jeans and boots. She said she had a surprise for me, but this was the last thing I expected.Standing up, I point at her stomach, which is a heck of a lot bigger than when I last saw it. "Oh my goodness, you are as full as a house!"A permanent grin
London baby, I have arrived! As Edmund and I sit in the back of the chauffeur driven car, my face is plastered to the window as I take in this new city that is now my home. There's so much to take in: it's incredible how one place can have so much vibrancy, multiculturalism, and a cosmopolitan edge all at once: the sky scraper buildings, glamourous clothes shops filling the high streets, the internationally renowned restaurants, the parks, the double deckers, the black cabs. And then there's the history: Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge, the London Eye, 10 Downing Street, the Tower Bridge, the Great Fire, Barbican Arts Gallery. This city is truly a perfect blending of the past and present. Just when I am keen on continuing the driving tour, the car pulls up and I turn to Edmund, my mouth having popped open at where we've stopped."Tell me you're joking. This is not your place." Edmund chuckles heartily. "Is that a good thing?"I turn back to press my fa
"Call us the second you get there, alright?" Mom repeats herself for the fifth time in two hours. I am standing outside my favourite Japanese restaurant on Bridge Street in Wynyard, saying my final goodbyes for the night. Gabe has gone home and it's just me and my family, who won't let me get into my car and drive back home. It's my farewell party with my loved ones, and I've spent the night laughing, getting sentimental and emotional with my parents, Hansley, Jackie, and Gabe. My flight is tomorrow morning, and because I would find it too difficult to say goodbye to any of them at the airport, I suggested dinner instead. Less invasive this way."I get there at six in the evening, it will be three in the morning for you. I'll just text you first," I insist and she scowls at me."Fine, but as soon as you get off the plane, alright? I don't care what time. I just need to know you are safe. I will be expecting a text at 3AM," she insists, her tone unyieldingly stern. I nod at her dogg
Pacing around the room, I play with my fingers as I wait nervously. Don't be afraid, just tell him. He'll understand, I know it. As I continue rehearsing what I need to say, my door knocks. Okay, he's here. Taking a deep inhalation, I shuffle to the door and open it to greet the person on the other side."Hi darl!" Gabe leans in to give me an air kiss, before holding up a cheese platter and packet of crackers in front of me. "Okay, gossip time. I think the occasion calls for cheese and crackers."He has no idea what I've got in store for him. I grin as I take the food from him. "I'll get the bottle of wine. But I'm making chicken fajitas, so keep your stomach free for them."Closing the door behind him, Gabe saunters in looking like his fabulous self in a navy crested jacket and white pants. I put the cheese and crackers on the dining table, before grabbing the silver glittery gift bag sitting on one of the chairs. "Here, just a little something for helping out. How was it bac