Past

“How was the mock exam?” Joel asked.

He and I were on a break in the cafeteria.

“It was blah”

“Blah?” he asked. I nodded. “You’re a freak.”

“I’m a freak? Because my mock was blah?”

Joel nodded.

“Ok,” I said.

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want me to tell me how your mock went, you freak.”

I laughed at his exasperation. “It was neither good nor bad.”

“Oh, well, that explains everything.”

“What? It was a European Law exam. How much detail do you want?”

“Well, did you get the question on the difference between direct effect and direct applicability in relation to the antitrust stuff?”

I didn’t respond straight away. Joel looked at me expectantly.

I raised my eyebrows. “And you think I’m the freak?”

“Hey, why am I a freak?” He looked hurt.

“You’re a freak because A, you are a geek about economics and B, because you know way too much about my exams. And yes, I did get the question.”

“I knew it.” He punched the air.

“A geeky freak.”

“I’ll take that.” He grinned.

At University, everyone was so wrapped up in their own worlds that no one noticed that Joel and I were spending time together. Adam just put it down to our shared geek like tendencies. He loved that maybe he could be cooler that Joel, although I suspected he really knew that could never be the case. He lacked the fundamental confidence that Joel had. I suppose our friends didn’t really see our time together, so it didn’t register. They saw him picking me up and dropping me off every now and then. Ok, most evenings Joel dropped me off. But because most of the time he then caught up with Adam, it looked like that was why he was there. With me.

Also, it wasn’t like we were dating. We were study buddies. He was a ridiculously handsome study buddy, but no one, including myself, thought for a moment it would be more than that. He was way out of my league. I barely ever wore make up. I didn’t give a shit what I wore, as long as it was warm. I couldn’t remember the last time I got my hair cut—it just hung down my back. I didn’t bother blow drying it as it took too long. The girls that Joel and Adam surrounded themselves with were well groomed, pretty, vivacious, always ready to laugh at their jokes. Those girls were almost a different species. I didn’t resent them and they didn’t notice me—that’s just how it was.

Joel’s flirting with me continued and I continued to pretend to be impervious to his charms. The actual imperviousness wasn’t going too well. I thought he was devastatingly attractive, of course, but more than that, I liked him. I liked spending time with him. I wanted to share my news with him and I wanted to hear all about his life outside the library.

Around mid-term, as was our normal practice for the weekend, I waited for Joel to pick me up on the way to the library. He always knocked very lightly, aware that most of my roommates would be asleep for hours yet. It was a sweet, thoughtful habit and it always made me smile.

“Hey, come in. Sorry I’m not packed up yet.” I was leaning across my desk to gather my papers.

“God, you look beautiful in this light, Ava.” His voice was soft and serious and I turned to face him, wondering if I’d heard him right. His eyes were on mine, looking at me intently.

I turned away, embarrassed. “No I don’t,” I mumbled, reaching for my bag to begin packing up my books.

“Yes. Yes, you do.” He’d moved toward me and I felt him behind me. I stood frozen as he ran his hand down my arm.

“Joel.” My small voice cracked.

“Turn around, Ava.”

I was sure my face was a mixture of pure terror and pure lust. Was this really happening? Joel didn’t pick girls like me.

Reluctantly, I turned around. I didn’t dare make eye contact.

“Ava,” he said again as he brought his hand to my throat, and then behind my hair as he cupped the back of my neck. Our foreheads met and our breath mingled. We stayed like that for a long moment, on the brink of something. My breath came shorter. I brought my hands up to rest on his chest. Oh lord, that chest. I’d sat across from his magnificent chest for the last few weeks, imagining how it would feel to touch, stroke, kiss. It most definitely lived up to every expectation, broad and hard. I daren’t move, worried I would lose control and not be able to stop what he had started.

He slowly pulled his forehead from mine and replaced it with his mouth, kissing me lightly. My eyes closed as I stood still. His head dipped to my neck and placed feather light kisses down from my ear to my collarbone. I gasped, and as if he had been holding back until that moment, he found my mouth urgently and pressed me to him.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” I blurted as I pulled back from his kiss and spoke into his lips that were hovering over mine. He pulled me toward him again, silencing me. He ran his tongue along my bottom lip, placing light kisses at each corner of my mouth. I moaned as I let my tongue be surrounded by his. His arms moved around my back and his splayed hands roamed behind me, pulled me into him so there were no gaps between where he ended and I began. His kiss deepened and I felt him thicken against my stomach. I reached into his hair and he groaned. Was I really making him groan? Slowly, I let my hands move across his shirt and up to his shoulders. I wanted to feel every part of him.

Suddenly he broke our kiss. Had I taken things too far? I froze, our eyes locked on each other.

“You taste even better than I imagined. You’re so soft.” He sighed and then dropped another soft kiss on my lips, and then another at the corner of my mouth, and then another. My hands recommenced their exploration of his shoulders and then neck.

“You imagined this?” The chemistry that I had felt between us all these weeks hadn’t been all in my head. It wasn’t just the normal Joel Wentworth charm. It had been meant for me. And right now he was kissing me out of my shoes.

“Oh, I’ve been having very inappropriate thoughts about you, Ava Elliot.” My stomach flipped and I let my head fall back and his mouth fell on my neck. His tongue trailed across my skin between kisses. The sensation was excruciating. I thought I would burst.

“Stress relief, huh?” I mumbled.

“Something like that.”

I caught his bottom lip between mine and he drew his hands from my back into my hair.

The kiss seemed to go on for days, and I was happy to stay there until graduation. A bang of a bedroom door upstairs made me jump and we both looked at my closed door toward the sound.

“What was that?” He intertwined my fingers with his.

“Probably Adam. He’s so noisy.”

Joel chuckled and looked back at me.

“So,” I said trying to fill the silence.

“So ...” he bent down to whisper in my ear. God, his breath on my neck felt so good. I leaned into him and felt him through his trousers against my stomach.

“Hmmm,” was all I could manage.

Joel jerked away. “So, stop distracting me. Come on. Library.” He swatted my bottom and I jumped at his sudden change in direction. “Study break is over. If I stay in this room alone with you another moment, I may never leave.” He grinned at me and I grinned back. My heart grew twice as big in my chest as we collected my stuff and he put my rucksack over his shoulder and guided me, with his hand on my lower back, out of my room.

Present

My day in the office had been a complete write off. I just couldn’t think about anything except Joel. When was he coming back? How would I feel when I saw him? How quickly could I get a boyfriend? It was going over and over in my head. I’d sat through a meeting for two hours and came out without a clue of what had happened and no notes to rely on. I sent an email with at least ninety typos in it to a partner and he’d completely bawled me out. I was a liability. Tonight Jules was coming over to help me with my dating profile, so I left work as soon as I could and headed home.

Jules worked in PR and apparently could come and go as she pleased. She arrived about three minutes after I’d changed into leggings and my favorite (very worn) sweater. My style had evolved since University; I found I quite liked fashion. At work I liked shift dresses with higher-than-high heels and bold jewelry. My hair had a style: long layers that made the most of my natural wave, with lowlights done by an actual hairdresser. At University, I had been known to cut off my own split ends. But we had all grown up. You couldn’t live in jeans and sneakers your whole life. When I’d seen pictures of Joel on the Internet at the beginning of his meteoric rise as a successful entrepreneur, it seemed odd to see him in a suit. I’d never seen him in anything but casual clothes. He had that innate style gene that some people just seemed to be born with. He always looked so great. But in a suit, he looked like something else. God, I hope he doesn’t wear a suit when he’s back in London.

Yeah, Ava, very realistic.

Jules could open a bottle of wine quicker than anyone could. Before I could say, “But is he marriage material?” we’d polished off our first glasses and I had a profile on a well-known Internet dating site. Jules was a lot more excited than I was. It was a means to an end for me. I needed to get over Joel. I’d had eight years, but now I had to do it almost overnight.

“Oh, this guy seems perfect for you. Complete workaholic.”

“Jules, I’m not a workaholic. I just do work, rather than party, for a living.”

“Whatever. You’re going to need a guy that understands how important your career is to you. Most guys won’t want to marry a career-focused overachiever. You’ll intimidate them. That’s why you’ve been single for so long.”

“Really, Jules, that’s just too many compliments at one time. I’m blushing.”

“You know what I mean.”

It was a good thing Jules and I had been friends for as long as we had. She could get away with talking to me like that. And she wasn’t so wrong.

“And who said I wanted to marry the guy? Let’s just find someone hot.”

“Making up for lost time, I see. That’s my girl.” Jules was right again. Eight years of lost time. “What about this one? He sounds nice. Accountant, good-looking, sporty. What’s not to like? Wink at him! He’s online now.” Oh Jesus. Was I really going to do this? “There I’ve done it for you.”

Jules winked at three more guys and then gossip took over.

“So my new boss’ boss is totally hot,” she said.

“The married guy?”

“Just because he’s married, Ava, doesn’t mean he’s not hot.”

“Yes, but it does mean that you shouldn’t be thinking he’s hot.”

“Why not? I’m not saying I’m going to start dry humping him at team meetings. I just think he’s hot. No big deal.” But it was a big deal. Jules had had an affair with a married man before and, big surprise, it hadn’t ended well. She shrugged it off now, but at the time she was broken. It had been heartbreaking to watch. She really thought she was going to marry the guy—when he left his wife, that was.

“And, anyway, with Joel back in town, I’ll have plenty to distract me this summer.” Jules grinned from ear to ear. Nausea washed over me. Jules and Joel together would be my worst nightmare.

“So he’s not bringing a wife or girlfriend?” Was that subtle?

“Not from what Adam was saying. I think he’s pretty wrapped up in his business, and now that it’s gone global he wants to be based in London. I don’t think he’d move if he had commitments in New York. Right?”

“I guess.”

“You guys were close at Uni, weren’t you? Haven’t you spoken to him at all?” I felt myself redden at Jules’ question. How did I answer without giving anything away?

“Not spoken to him for ages,” I mumbled.

“But you were close, though? You had such a crush on him!”

“What are you talking about? We were study buddies!” I got up to go to the fridge to get some more wine, hoping to change the course of the conversation.

“You so did! Oh my god. I remember now!” Jules was bouncing in her seat. “Didn’t you kiss him in that nightclub at Adam’s 21st Birthday?”

“What? You’re delusional. Like you’d remember anything from that night. We were all completely hammered. You slept on your doorstep.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Oh my god, yes, you were trying to get away from Adam because you’d shagged him and left him lovesick.”

“Shut up. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had part of my brain removed so I didn’t have to remember that particular disaster.”

I giggled at the memory.

“Saved by the bell. Will the accountant from Holland Park just winked back at you.”

Three glasses of wine convinced me it was a good idea for Will and me to meet up later that week for a drink when he asked me over email. And when Bruce, an architect from Hoxton, suggested drinks on Wednesday, I thought in for a penny, in for a pound and said yes straight away, much to Jules’ shock. Two dates in one week. Operation: Get Over Joel was in full flow.

***

Tuesday came around really quickly and before I knew it I was headed for a bar in Soho to meet Will. It felt like business.

I saw him as soon as I entered the bar. He wasn’t twenty years older than his photo suggested, so that was promising. Tick. He looked up and his eyes found mine. He smiled and stood up. He was tall. Tick.

“Ava?”

“Yes. Will?” Ava and Will, Ava and Will? Did it sound right in my head? It didn’t sound wrong. Tick.

He leaned toward me and kissed both cheeks.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

“Sure, what are you having?”

“A beer, but I’m happy to share a bottle of wine if you’d like. Have a look at the list.”

Likes wine. Tick.

“Ok, that sounds good.” Did I want to commit to a whole bottle? Don’t over think it. “You choose.”

“Red or white?”

“Don’t mind. I’ll leave it to you.”

“Oh, is this my first test?” he asked. I looked up and found Will grinning at me and I couldn’t help but return his smile.

“Not your first,” I deadpanned.

“Oh, I see. How am I doing so far?” he asked, still grinning.

“All test results are confidential until the end of the evening.” My smile was genuine.

“Ok, playing it cool. I can work with that.”

“You like tests?”

“I’m an accountant. The only people who sit more tests than we do are lawyers. We have to like tests. Right? I’ve never failed one yet.”

Doesn’t take himself too seriously. Flirty. Tick, tick.

The waitress was at our table. “We’ll have a bottle of the New Zealand 1996 pinot noir.” He looked at me while he ordered. He was confident that this was a test he would pass. He was right. Not a cheap bottle, but not the most expensive. Not an obvious choice if you were trying to impress. Tick.

The conversation was easy between us. I had no expectations and I wasn’t trying to pass any test that he was giving me.

“So, have you been single for long?” I asked the question that I didn’t really want anyone to ask me.

“About nine months. You?”

“Longer.”

“Longer?”

“Yup. What happened with your breakup?”

“Are we ready for the previous relationship talk?”

“Do we not do that on a first date? It’s been a while. You’ll have to refresh my memory of the rules.”

“I think technically it’s frowned upon, but hey, let’s go crazy.”

“You’re a Prince fan?”

“Of course, aren’t you?”

I laughed. “Isn’t everyone?”

“So your previous girlfriend, did she find out you were an axe murderer?”

“No, that’s a secret I hope to take to my grave. We just were going in different directions. We’re still friends, though.”

“Still friends? Really? Is that possible?”

“Well, we didn’t cheat on each other. I can’t say we didn’t hurt each other, but we got out before it got too bad.” That sounded, I don’t know, healthy or something. I wasn’t sure if it was a trick or if he was lying to me. Maybe he wanted her back and Internet dating was just a distraction, but from the glass house I was sitting in, I wasn’t about to throw stones. We continued to swap stories until our glasses were drained dry.

“Do you want another bottle?” Will asked. How did we drink a whole bottle?

“Are we finished already?”

“Time flies.”

“It’s true. It does and I did—have fun, that is—but let’s quit while we’re ahead.” I smiled. I’d really enjoyed the evening.

“Does this mean I failed your tests?”

“No, it means I have an early morning.”

“Can I take you to dinner another time to discuss my results?”

“You can take me to dinner another time ...”

He grinned. “Is the weekend too soon?”

“I can do Sunday night.”

“Ok. I’ll text you.”

I smiled all the way home. This wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

When I got home, I logged on and found I’d been winked at a couple of times. A mixture of the pinot noir and the thought that this dating thing might actually be quite fun led to me agreeing to two more dates. I was on a roll.

***

Wednesday night shattered my illusions that dating was going to be fun. When I first arrived, I didn’t immediately see Bruce. He had lost a lot of hair since his profile picture had been taken. Some men can carry that off, but Bruce wasn’t one of them. He’d clearly not gotten the universal memo sent out to all men annually since 1990 explaining that if you suffered from hair loss, you have to cut it very, very short. That, combined with the fact that an hour in and I’d not yet found a sense of humor, meant that Bruce wasn’t the date of the century.

How long do I have to stay before I can leave?

“Aves?” my mind had wandered. What had he been talking about? And why was he calling me Aves?

“Sorry?”

“Am I boring you?” He was getting haughty. I’d clearly upset him.

“No, sorry, I’m just distracted. It’s been a difficult day.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, being a lawyer is so much more stressful than being an architect.”

Was I being rude or was he? “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to imply anything.”

“I need to loosen you up. Let’s get another drink inside you.” He snapped his fingers to get the attention of a waitress and that was my cue—dull was acceptable and he could always cut his hair, but if he was the kind of man who was snapping his fingers at anyone, he wasn’t the man for me.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay, Bruce. I’m going to have to head off.”

“Jesus. What a waste of a night. You’re a bitch. No wonder you’re single. And don’t think I’m paying for that glass of wine you’ve drunk.” He was making this way too easy for me.

“It’s been a pleasure, Bruce.” I fished out a twenty from my purse, laid it on the table, and walked out. I knew this Internet dating thing couldn’t be as easy as the previous evening had made it seem.

I took advantage of a quiet spell at work, and the week I had to Get Over Joel, and crammed in two more dates before the weekend rolled around. I shouldn’t have bothered. Andrew was okay. Okay if you could forgive him the fact that his voice made David Beckham sound like a baritone. And then there was that part of the evening when he spoke to my chest. And when I say “that part of the evening,” I mean the entire evening. I may have great boobs, but I like a man to look at my face for at least part of our first conversation.

The final date of the week was with David. David lived with his mother. I wanted to be open minded, I really did, but to live with your mother at 35? He explained that it was only temporary while he found a place to buy, but they’d clearly been living together for years. Come on. Your mother?

Will was definitely the best of a bad bunch. He was funny, charming. He had a job and his own teeth. What more could a girl wish for?