I was up bright and early the next morning, completely hangover free. I tried not to dwell over what Frankie had said last night, but her words taunted me whenever I attempted to close my eyes. She was wrong. I wasn’t in love with Jake. He was a friend. A friend I hadn’t known I needed at the time. Truth was, him showing up when I least expected it made me happy. Who knew being friends with a guy could make me feel this way? I didn’t have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t with Jake. He knew what I was like, and he still wanted to be around me. That meant more to me than any sexual relationship ever could. But even knowing that, I couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy that filled my chest and deflated my hopes knowing he’d been out with somebody else. A guy like Jake didn’t spend the night with a girl without fucking her. Unless, of course, it was me.

I dropped my head against the table and sighed in frustration.

I’d come to the warehouse early that morning when I realised that sleeping wasn’t an option for me. Frankie was still asleep, so I left her a note, telling her I would see her after work tomorrow. There was no way she would be leaving her bed today, anyway. She was a firm believer that Sundays were made to rest.

When I lifted my head, I pulled the dress I had been working on onto my lap and examined the hem. The stitching was off, which made me frustrated all over again. The needle must’ve been broken. At least I hoped it was that and nothing more serious. There was no way I could afford to replace the machine.

I picked away at the seams and threaded a needle with the black cotton I’d used to sew the hem. I guess it wasn’t all that bad. I hadn’t lost a sequin yet.

Just as I cut the thread after finishing the hem, the warehouse door opened. Jake strolled in with a sheepish look on his face, his cap shielding his eyes. I glanced up briefly and lowered my eyes again. “Feeling rough?” I asked as I tossed the needle back in the silver tin.

Jake grunted a response and fell into the empty chair opposite me. “I feel like death,” he groaned.

I tried not to seem too happy about that. Even though it made me feel a little better knowing he was suffering.

The chair scraped against the worn tiled floor as I lifted the dress towards the light above. “That’s a shame. I feel fine,” I said, chewing my lip as I picked off some white fluff from the skirt section.

“How long have you been here?” Jake asked. I flickered my eyes towards him just as he pulled his cap from his head and ran his fingers through his hair. His dark strands stuck up at every angle and I forced myself not to reach out and touch them.

I turned my attention back to the dress and shrugged. “A few hours, maybe.”

“Do you ever sleep?” Jake made a noise and pulled his cap back on.

“I sleep. I just wanted to get this finished.”

Jake gripped his head and I smirked. He really was suffering this morning.

“Turn your back, would you?” I asked, slipping my feet out of my pumps.

“What?” He frowned.

“Turn your back. I want to try it on and make sure it fits.” I didn’t look up as I unzipped my jeans and started to lower them.

“It’s nothing I’ve not already seen, Mel.”

“So?”

“Fine,” he huffed. Doing as I asked, he turned the chair around so he was facing away. While he wasn’t looking, I reached for the pair of scissors I used to cut the thread and held them in the air before dropping them. Jake jumped, cursed loudly and covered his head. Ha.

Slipping out of my jeans, I pushed my legs into the dress. When it was at my waist, I tugged my vest up and over my head and tossed it on the table beside my jeans.

When I slipped my arms into the dress and pulled it up, I told Jake he could turn back around. He did. Slowly. I knew what it felt like to be that hungover. I’d found myself in that state far too often. The slightest movement felt like you’d been hit by a freight train, and don’t get me started on the noise…

Jake’s eyes eventually found mine, and when he eyed me up and down slowly, his jaw went slack. Was that a good sign? Did he like the dress?

I blew out a breath. “Can you do the zipper up, please?” I asked, coming to stand with my back to him. Jake mumbled under his breath and stood up. It felt like minutes passed by before I felt his fingers against my back. When he rested a hand at the small of my back and tugged the zipper up, I thought I would pass out. I hated how much his touch affected me and I tried hard to push Frankie’s words back when they started to taunt me again.

“There,” he said, falling back on the chair.

I turned to face him and twirled on the spot. “What do you think?”

His eyes met mine and a torturous look crossed his face. I wondered if I should offer him some ibuprofen for that headache, but then I remembered that he deserved to suffer after last night.

When Jake didn’t say anything, I smoothed out the sequins on the bodice of the dress and lowered my eyes. Arsehole. Why was he even here? Just as I wondered why he’d bothered showing up at all, he stood, crossed the distance that separated us and pulled a lock of hair that had caught inside the neck of the dress. I blinked up at him as he pushed the wayward strand behind my ear. “You look beautiful, Mel.” His voice was a breathy whisper, and I tried to hold it together when his hand froze on my cheek. That was the second time he’d said that in the last twenty-four hours. I wanted so much to lean into his touch, but I knew the second I did he would likely pull away. He’d given no indication that we were anything but friends. And I couldn’t allow myself to believe he’d want me as anything more.

I pulled back and stood in front of the floor-length mirror, smoothing over the skirt. “I was thinking of wearing it tonight,” I told him.

“You going out tonight?’ he asked.

“Yep. I’m going on a date.” The words had left my mouth before I could stop them.

“You’re going on a date?” he blurted out, shock evident in his tone.

I shrugged, looking back at him through the reflection. “I’ve got to try it sometime, right?”

He narrowed his eyes and silently nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Should I wear this dress?”

Jake pushed up from the old plastic chair and adjusted the peek on his cap. “The dress looks good on you, Mel. You should wear it.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” I smiled briefly before twisting my arms around the back to unzip it.

“I’ve gotta shoot. Have a good time tonight, Mel.”

“You’re going already?” I frowned. “You just got here?”

Jake looked defeated. He drew in a long breath and slowly released it. “I’ve got to pick up my car from Riley’s. I’ll see ya later.”

I didn’t even have the chance to respond. He was already out of the door by the time I turned around.

Well, that went well.

The microwave pinged as I pulled out a bowl from the kitchen cupboard. When I opened the door, the sweet aroma of toffee popcorn filled my lungs, making my mouth water.

Once I’d emptied the contents of the bag into the plastic bowl, I made my way into the living room and curled into the corner of the L shaped sofa. Pulling my legs under my bottom, I brought a square fluffy pillow to rest on my lap and hit play on the Sky remote. With a heap of popcorn in my hand, I settled down for the night.

Thirty minutes into the second episode, my mobile phone flashed with a message. I moved the half-eaten bowl of popcorn to the empty spot beside me and unlocked the screen.

I pushed my face into my hands and groaned.

Why did I lie to him about going on a date? It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Now it just felt silly. I didn't even know why I’d said it in the first place. It seemed the words had left my mouth without me having control of them.

Did I say it in the hopes he’d get jealous and convince me not to go? Maybe, yes. But he had spent the night with Sadie so why would he care if I had a date or not?

I couldn't help but feel shit for lying to him, especially after we’d agreed to be friends. So far he had kept to his word and this friendship between us was surprisingly good. Now I had messed that all up by telling him I had a date. There was no way I could admit that I lied. If I did, he'd know why I lied and I couldn't face the humiliation of him knowing the truth… that I had lied to make him jealous, because despite us being friends, I was jealous that he had left the club with Sadie and not me.

I closed my eyes, blew out a breath and continued on with the lie.

I stared down at the screen, waiting for him to reply. When ten minutes had passed without a response, I sighed and tucked my phone into the crease of the sofa.

I couldn't seem to push down that awful feeling of lying to him. Trust was everything and I had broken that trust already. No matter how many times I convinced myself that it was one lie, one very small, insignificant lie, I knew it was still wrong. I just had to make sure that it didn’t happen again and that he never found out.