7 Years Bad Sex (15 page)

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Authors: Nicky Wells

BOOK: 7 Years Bad Sex
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After that, they lapsed into silence again while the train hurtled them towards Brighton. There wasn’t really much else to say.

 

‘Right, so here we are,’ Casey observed with excessive enthusiasm when they arrived at the seaside resort. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and the sun was shining brightly. In fact, it was a glorious day, and despite their somewhat sinister purpose, Casey’s spirits lifted. She loved the seaside. She always felt that nothing could go truly wrong by the seaside. The eternal pounding of waves on the shore put everything in perspective; in reality, what did their little sexual predicament matter? And in the grand scheme of things, what would it matter to the universe if Casey and Alex bonded with different partners that day? They were only blips on the eternal timeline of life. Who cared?

She took a deep breath and savoured the briny air in her lungs. Without thinking, she took Alex’s hand as they headed towards the seafront. It wasn’t too far, so they walked. They deliberately hadn’t pre-booked a hotel. Their plan was to find a place to stay, book two rooms, and split up for the evening. By unspoken agreement, they felt that starting their mission together in that way would give their weekend a little more legitimacy, like a proper mini-break.

‘That one looks nice.’ Casey pointed at a beautifully fronted, old-fashioned hotel right on the seafront. ‘Shall we try it?’

‘Fine by me,’ Alex agreed.

They entered the lobby and took in the slightly faded but nonetheless sumptuous surroundings.

‘If we’re going to go down, at least we’re going down in style,’ Alex joked. Casey elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

‘Don’t say that,’ she pleaded. ‘I’m already having second and third thoughts.’

Alex raised his eyebrows at her. Casey nodded even though he hadn’t actually asked the question. ‘Yes, let’s do this. Come on.’

The receptionist wasn’t the slightest bit perturbed by their request for two rooms on two separate floors.

‘She’s probably heard and seen it all,’ Alex whispered to Casey.

‘Shh,’ Casey admonished. ‘She can hear you, you know.’

The receptionist gave them a dazzling smile, completely ignoring their furtive exchange, and slid two key cards across the highly polished counter.

‘Mrs Morgan, you’re on the third floor in the Blue Room. Mr Morgan, you’re on the fifth floor in the Lofty Suite.’

‘Oh, now, I like the sound of that,’ Alex quipped. ‘Lofty Suite. I bet you’re missing out, my darling.’

‘We’ll see about that in the morning,’ Casey retorted. At this conversation, even the receptionist looked intrigued, but she lowered her eyes and busied herself with her computer.

‘Dinner is available in the restaurant from six,’ she informed them casually. ‘Breakfast is from eight to eleven.’

‘Thanks so much,’ Casey gushed. ‘We’re looking forward to our stay.’

With that, she turned and pulled Alex towards the bank of lifts.

‘I can practically feel her eyes burning a hole in my back,’ she whispered while they waited. ‘I bet her rumour mill is going at breakneck speed.’

‘Who cares?’ Alex brushed away her worries. ‘We’re here now. We’re committed. Let’s do this.’

The lift arrived, and they stepped in.

‘This is it,’ Alex mumbled. He wrapped Casey in a tender embrace. ‘You go and have fun, girl.’

‘You too.’ Casey smiled bravely. Her heart was hammering so hard in her throat that she thought she might surely choke on the vibrations. ‘I’ll—I’ll see you in the morning.’

The lift doors opened onto Casey’s floor. Casey breathed a kiss on Alex’s mouth and more or less fell out of the door in her great haste to get away before she changed her mind.

‘Atta girl,’ she heard Alex shout after her just as the doors closed. For a moment, she stared at her reflection in the gilded mirror on the wall opposite to the lift. She looked pale, she noted, but her cheeks were flaming. Her hands were trembling, and her vision blurred momentarily.
Was she really going to do this?

 

~Alex~

 

The mirror showed him a different Alex. A dressed-to-pull Alex that he hadn’t seen in years. It wasn’t a surprise, really, considering that he had put on his erstwhile best pulling outfit. Tight-fitting blue jeans slung low on the hips; a white silky shirt unbuttoned just so, showing off the edges of a tattoo on his chest; and his favourite leather jacket, although that was for show only. It was the middle of August, after all, and too hot to wear a leather jacket. Still, chicks seemed to dig that kind of thing.

Alex stared at himself. He was sick with nerves and doubt. He had put on a brave face for Casey, but he wasn’t at all sure they were doing the right thing. Yet a tiny part of him—and a vital part of his anatomy—was excited.

‘I must be mad,’ Alex spoke to himself. ‘I’ll have to put this down as research or something. Research for a song. There must be a story in here somewhere.’

He grinned, then sighed. It was nearly eight o’clock. Time to go and hit the town.

After a furtive exit from the hotel—
it wouldn’t do to bump into Casey on the way out!
—he ambled aimlessly back towards the town centre. He avoided the many restaurants filled with happy couples and big parties of friends, even though his stomach gave an impressive rumble. He had completely neglected to eat. Perhaps he had better stop somewhere for a quick bite. That fish ‘n’ chip shop on the corner would do nicely.
You had to have fish and chips in Brighton, right?

Having ordered a helping of cod and chips—hold the mushy peas—Alex installed himself on a bar stool by the window. Then he noticed a hip-looking bar right across the road. Groups of women seemed to flock to the place, and he decided this would be the perfect fishing ground for him.

At ease now that he had homed in on a destination, he munched through his meal while he observed some more. The place was filling up nicely. Spectacularly dressed women were arriving in little groups, laughing, chatting, and obviously looking for a good night out. Would one of those good nights out involve him, Alex Morgan?

Another plus point was that there was absolutely no way Casey would end up going to this place. It simply wasn’t her kind of drinking hole.

He sighed. They hadn’t talked about the logistics of how or where they would pick up their fateful strangers, or how they would avoid running into each other. Idly he wondered where Casey would go. Would she go to a club, or maybe a restaurant? Maybe she would look for somewhere with live music, somewhere with a band and a stage upon which she could clamber to wow the audience and the band…

Stop it,
Alex admonished himself.
We’re not on the lookout for new partners. We’re simply trying to find out whether we still have the ability to satisfy someone. That’s all.

There. His fish and chips were well and truly polished off, even though he had barely noticed eating them. His soft drink had been consumed. It stood to reason that he couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer; he was ready for battle. Time to throw himself into the fray.

Reluctantly and with leaden limbs, he prised himself off the bar stool and made his way across the road.

The bar was noisy and heaving with women and the odd male or two. Alex leaned casually against the counter, a beer in hand. He had considered ordering something fancy like a colourful cocktail, knowing that an unusual choice of drink would be a babe magnet. But on balance he had decided that he wasn’t
that
keen for the plan to work and that a beer would go down infinitely nicer. Even with his blokey choice of beverage, he could already see the vultures circling. He had been noticed, and subtle wars were being fought out as to who would have first dibs at this single, available male.

 

Yes, single. At the last minute, he had remembered to take off his wedding ring, much as it pained him. He had stuffed his most sacred piece of jewellery carefully in the coin fold of his wallet. His ring finger felt bare and naked and very exposed, especially as it was clearly the subject of considerable scrutiny.
Had it always been like this?
he wondered.
Had he simply not noticed these games when he had still been free and single?

There, the die had been cast. A tall, curvaceous blonde detached herself from her gaggle of friends and sauntered towards him. The game was on.

A small shiver of excitement ran through Alex’s body. Despite himself, the thrill of seduction aroused him.

‘Hello, handsome.’ The blonde sidled up to him in her extremely high heels and gave him a wide smile. Her ample bosom strained against a blue sequined top, and her fingernails were painted an acute shade of red. A cloud of perfume enveloped Alex like a spicy caress, and he had to swallow hard. Her scent was a little too heavy for his liking, but he would get over it.

‘Hello,’ he replied simply.

‘You on your lonesome tonight?’

‘Sure am.’

He grinned. They sounded like two actors in a cowboy movie.

‘Fancy buying a thirsty girl a drink?’

Whoa there, don’t hold back.
‘It’ll be my pleasure. What would you like?’

The blonde jumped slightly and erupted in a tinkle of laughter. ‘Aren’t you quite the gentleman? I’ll have a glass of house white, please.’

Alex nodded and signalled to the barman. ‘I’m Alex,’ he said over his shoulder while he was waiting to order her drink.

‘Shelley.’

‘Nice to meet you, Shelley.’ The unfamiliar name nearly stuck on his tongue.

‘Are you from around here, Alex?’

‘I live in London,’ he replied truthfully.

A glimmer of disappointment flittered across her face. ‘Do you come here often?’

Evidently she was looking for The Man. The right one, the one who would commit. Alex felt awkward.

‘No, not really.’

‘Ah.’ Shelley was disappointed, he could see it on her face. She looked over towards her friends, who gave her a unanimous thumbs-up alongside a few ruder gestures of encouragement. As though not to lose face in front of her friends, Shelley squared her shoulders and offered him a dazzling smile.

‘Who cares? We have tonight, don’t we?’

‘We do, yes.’ Alex’s voice emerged husky and hoarse. He was completely unprepared for the speed of events. Her drink hadn’t even arrived yet, and already they had agreed to spend the night together?

After the initial race to establish a shared purpose, Shelley visibly relaxed. She became chatty and started cracking jokes, and Alex found he quite enjoyed her company. Behind the slutty exterior hid a clever and sensitive woman who conversed easily about world politics, the current number one bestselling book, and Salman Rushdie. The more they talked, the more certain Alex became that he couldn’t take Shelley to bed. For one, he really didn’t fancy her enough. Second, he couldn’t shag-and-run like Myles, or even the Alex of old. And last but most important: he loved Casey far too much.
Now what?

Shelley took that decision out of his hands.

‘I’m simply starving,’ she simpered after her second glass of wine. ‘There’s a nice pizza place around the corner. Fancy some dinner?’

Alex suppressed a snort. She was trying to condense a first, second, and presumably third date all into one night. Drinks, dinner, and sex. If you can’t have your man for good, at least get him for what he’s worth.

‘Sure. Dinner would be nice,’ he agreed amiably, even though his fish from earlier still hogged prime space in his stomach. But he wanted to get out of the bar, and he knew that Shelley would score esteem points with her friends if she was seen leaving with her catch. Whatever happened afterwards—or not—would be up to her to tell, or not.

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