*****

I wake to sunlight streaming over the bed. My view is blocked by Ryan, standing over me, offering me a mug.

“You like coffee on a morning?” he asks.

“I sit up to take the mug from him. “It’s one of the food groups.” I grin.

When was the last time I woke up in a man’s bed?

He sits by me, sipping from his own cup. He doesn’t speak, but repeatedly, his glance strays my way before he looks away again, smiling.

The obvious question finally looms. “What time is it?”

“Ten to eight.”

“Jeez! I’ll be late to work!”

“Hey, calm down. I’ll drive you there.”

“I can’t go like this….”

“The shower’s through there….”

As it is, Ryan delivers me on squealing wheels to Haswell Building at two minutes to nine,

And as I swipe my entry card, James Alexanders is coming in right behind me. He must have seen Ryan drop me off and he wears the kind of half-smile that says he knows exactly why I am wearing yesterday’s blouse and a rapidly painted-on expression of dignity.

“Morning, Kirstie.”

“Morning Mr Alexanders.”

*****

That evening, walking the dogs on the beach, Ben jogs up to me, and Scruffy barges in to meet up with my canine gang again.

“Hi.” he puffs, bending to rest hands on knees for a minute as he catches his breath. “How are you? Great to see you again.”

“I’m fine.” In truth, I am a little uncomfortable. The speed, and for that matter, the direction in which my ‘relationship’ with Ben is progressing is unnerving me. He seems to believe that we are a lot closer than I do, and I am not at all sure that I want to take things with him any further.

What’s a safe topic of conversation?

Oh, yes….

“I was surprised when I met Charlotte at work and realised who she is. You and your brother aren’t much alike, are you?”

He frowns. “Sorry? You’ve met my brother?”

“Yes, I saw him with Charlotte in the lobby a few days ago.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. He must have been picking her up.”

“Er, no. They were on their way out actually. I would never have taken the pair of you for brothers….”

“I don’t think we’re that unalike, are we? I know he’s a lot blonder than I am….”

Blonder?

“No, the man I saw was dark; much darker-haired than you. “

He shakes his head. “Mike’s blond, very blond. He looks like something from a toothpaste advert. You know, the kind with the sunshine-healthy family, all corn-fed, and eating wheat germ and yoghurt.”

Mike….? Not James then….

Time to tread carefully….

Charlotte with a tall dark-haired guy

Haswell is the spit ‘n image of Charlotte, and her husband is

my

shut my

mind is spinning overtime, running on whirring red-hot axles. The Charlotte I met was certainly the same girl I saw with

opt for

“She seems nice.”

“I suppose.” Ben shrugs.

Doesn’t he like her?

pretty isn’t

I suppose so. Mike certainly thinks so.

laughing.

slide sideways.

*****

man enters the lobby.

sinks as

Oh, God. It’s him….

the Club. Am

This could be embarrassing.

at me, his brilliantly blue-eyed gaze sweeping past me as instead, he heads straight for

he abruptly slows, turns and looks back at

rude,

years ago. You were with your

for a moment, then his face clears. With the most charming

my lapel badge. Moving closer, he peers in and grins. “Ah, Kirstie.” He laughs. “I see. Nice

that is not related to this amazing looking man fucking my brains out in a threesome with

check with anyone if

No, don’t worry. They

friend said that

met

just the other

grins. “Was he

He

good man; one of the best, but sometimes…. um…

a Dom, isn’t he. If you cut him in half, it’d say ‘Dom’ running right through

wrong there. Gotta go Kirstie. See you around.” He heads back to the lifts, turning back as the doors open, and waving. “I’m Michael by the way.

What a great guy….

Shame he got married….

*****

good. But I prefer to get out for a while for a change of air, so I head for the coffee bar over the road,

a window seat and I’m halfway through my lunch, staring into space and pondering the incandescent joys of fucking with Ryan when a

look up. It’s Charlotte, carrying a

“Hi,” she says. “Mind if I join

shuffle up my chair to make space as she

might as well take the opportunity to get to know each other, since it looks as though we’re

“Sure…. er….”

eyes me over

words. What

the right way. I know Ben’s

He’s not shut up about you whenever I’ve seen him

a dozen times and had a couple of dates. Please don’t get the wrong impression about where we are with

it’s my impression that you need

voice comes from

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