All I Want Series Boxset, Books 1-3: All I Want for Christmas, All I Want for Valentine's, All I Want for Spring (6 page)

My mouth fell open. “You didn’t?” My words came out in a whisper.

Holly began to laugh. “No, I didn’t. But I might have. You may or may not have been her first kiss. But even if I had, it was over ten years ago!” Holly shook her head. “You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know that?”

I licked my lips and stared at her. “Why are you getting so wound up about this?”

“Because I have to live with your crazy obsessions and then I have to pick up the pieces when things don’t work out as you’ve planned them in your mind. It’s always me, Tori. Always.” She ran a hand through her hair and stretched her legs out front. “Plus, I want you to be happy and I don’t want to see you hurt. And that will not happen if you run after Nicola Sheen like a lovesick puppy. At best, she’ll declare undying love and call off her wedding — and that would be awkward. At worst, she’ll stare at you oddly and walk away, and then you’ll examine what you did wrong for the next year. I would like to stop this pattern of behaviour. I’m suggesting you don’t follow your heart blindly up a dead end and perhaps think about things before you act. Okay?”

I considered Holly’s words as the air sagged in front of me, now silent save for the carol singers across the slab of grass who were singing ‘Once In Royal David’s City’. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, elevated after Holly’s outburst. When did I start to annoy her so much? As far as I was aware, we got on great, although the obsessive trait had been brought up before not just by Holly, but also by my mum and other friends. So maybe she had a point.

I put out a hand in Holly’s direction and gave her a weak smile. “I won’t do anything stupid, I promise,” I said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes — I’m going to be adult about this. We’ll go to Melanie and Nicola’s wedding, and I’ll clap and cheer in all the right places. I won’t return to being 16 again.” I pursed my lips to underline my intention.

Holly’s shoulders slumped and she exhaled. “Okay, that’s good to know.” Then she put her arm around me and I leaned into her. “No stalking Melanie and Nicola on social media either.”

I nodded my head firmly. “I promise.”

But even I knew I was lying.

CHAPTER 8

Monday December 5th

The following Monday arrived and I had no dates set up for this week. Holly had dragged me out around town on Saturday and had banned the topic of Melanie Taylor and Nicola Sheen from our vocabulary, which had been quite a trial. It was a good job she couldn’t read my thoughts.

However, being busy meant I had no time to obsess, and we’d even managed to have a fun night out on the scene, slugging back far too much mulled wine as we got into the Christmas spirit. Hence yesterday had been taken up with lying on the sofa, eating crisps and watching re-runs of
Orange Is The New Black
.

Also, yesterday I’d only spent around an hour checking Melanie Taylor’s Facebook account to see pictures of her with Nicola. Two months’ worth of photos, it turned out. Melanie and Nicola on a river boat on the Thames, having a sunset dinner, posing in front of phone boxes. There was even one of them kissing in the street, both wearing thick coats, eyes closed. They looked like they were in love. I cursed myself for unfollowing Melanie months earlier when her updates had got too annoying.

Today I came into work early, fired up and ready to take on the week — but my first port of call was a cup of coffee.

Sal walked in just as I’d finished grinding beans and gave me a grin. “Morning, No. 1 Lesbian — good weekend?”

I nodded. “It was okay.”

She put a hand on her hip. “And how was Serena?”

“Sienna,” I corrected, slotting the ground coffee into the machine and pressing the button.

Sal clicked her fingers together. “Right, Sienna.” She paused and cocked her head. “But I’m guessing from the look on your face, it didn’t go as well as you might have hoped.”

I laughed. “It didn’t — but that’s not Sienna’s fault. It’s mine. I fell asleep halfway through the date. On the loo.” I held Sal’s gaze as the words sunk in.

She took a moment to reply. “How do you fall asleep on the loo?” she finally asked, grabbing a cup from the cupboard and starting on her own coffee as mine came to an end. 

I waved my hand to bat the comment away. “It’s a long story, and one I have consigned to the part of my brain marked ‘Dumb things I have done in my time on Earth, folder two’.”

Sal smirked. “Folder two? You’re planning on a collection?”

“Judging from the first 27 years, I’d say it was highly likely.”

I grabbed some bread from the communal bag and slotted them into the toaster, just as I heard my phone go in the office. My eyes widened. “Gotta grab this, expecting a call,” I told Sal, picking up my coffee and brushing past her at speed.

“That’s what I like to see, eager staff!” Sal called after me.

I got to my desk and banged down my coffee, just getting to the call before it rang off. I needn’t have run, though — it wasn’t the client I was expecting, it was Holly.

“Hey,” I said into my phone. “You missing me already? We only saw each other an hour ago.”

“Ha ha,” she replied. “Just calling to remind you about those tickets.”

“Tickets?” I searched my mind for what she might be referring to.

“For the Dixie Chicks gig? You said you were going to get them, remember? Anyway, they go on sale today at 10am, and I’m not going to be anywhere near a computer, so don’t forget. This is your one-hour warning call.”

I nodded. “Dixie Chicks, goddit.”

And that’s when I noticed the burning smell, right before the building’s fire alarm started screeching in my ear.

“What’s that noise?” Holly asked.

“Who left this toast unattended?” asked Maureen, our office manager. She folded her arms in the kitchen doorway and scoured the office looking for the culprit.

Bugger. “I gotta go,” I told Holly. “I think I just set the office on fire.”

I hit the red button on my phone and made my way sheepishly to the kitchen to fess up to Maureen. She already had the offending, blackened toast on the kitchen counter and was just putting on her high-vis fire warden jacket as I arrived. No matter what Maureen claimed, I think she secretly took pleasure in such episodes — any excuse to don the high-vis and have her authority ratcheted to the next level. If Maureen hadn’t been a prefect at school, they’d missed a trick.

“Sorry — it was me. I got a phone call and rushed to take it.” I bit my lip and gave Maureen my best ‘sorry’ face.

In return, she gave me a withering look — Maureen and I tolerated each other, rather than took pleasure in each other’s existence. Her look told me this was no more than she expected.

“Tell that to the fire team when they turn up on a wild goose chase,” she said, tutting. She rolled her eyes for good measure, then pushed past me and began shouting at the office to pack up and get out.

I made my way back into the scrum, grabbed my coffee, bag and coat, then joined the throng now exiting the office via the stairs. It wasn’t just our office either — it was the whole building. A slight pang of guilt zapped through me, but then I was standing on the cold winter pavement outside our building, chatting to our finance team about their weekend. Fire alarms weren’t unusual in our building, so most people took them in their stride. If there ever was an
actual
fire, it would be a shock to the system.

Ten minutes later, the giant red fire engines skidded round the corner, bringing the central London traffic to a halt. There were two of them, which seemed overkill for two pieces of toast. However, as our purchase ledger whizz Simon pointed out, they didn’t know that — they just thought a building was on fire.

I winced as he said it.

The trucks parked up and a bunch of burly-looking firefighters jumped down from their trucks, their over-sized gear looking out of place on a normal city street. They walked towards Maureen who was practising her best official face, and then to my horror, she pointed towards me, before beckoning me over. I put my head down and crimson embarrassment leaked into my cheeks as I came face to face with no less than four firefighters, three men and one… Nicola Sheen. I blinked rapidly, my heartbeat thudding in my chest.

Not even in my wildest dreams had Nicola Sheen been a lesbian
and
a firefighter.

“This is the culprit,” Maureen told them, her pudgy finger pointed in my direction as if she was about to send me to the Tower for treason.

I smiled at the group. “Sorry — I usually watch my toast like a hawk,” I lied.

“Try to do so in future,” said Nicola, all business-like, as if attending a fire caused by your ex was an everyday occurrence. “Toasters account for a large amount of our call-outs, which is a lot of wasted time.”

I nodded and furrowed my brow.

Nicola still wasn’t smiling.

“Will do,” I said.

“We’ll go inside to do our check, then you can go back in,” said the tallest of the male firefighters, nodding towards one of his colleagues who followed him in. Maureen began chatting to the other man, which left me and Nicola standing in the sharp December cold, wind needling my face as I tried to remain calm.  

“We really must stop meeting like this,” I said.

Finally, a semblance of a smile on Nicola’s red lips. “We really must. Ten years of nothing, and then twice in a couple of days.” She paused. “But then, you always did know how to make an impact on people, didn’t you?”  

I gulped down air, probably looking like a manic seagull. Nicola Sheen had just told me I’d made an impact on her.

Shut the front door.

“You never said you were a firefighter when I saw you the other night.” I rubbed my hands together in a bid to keep them busy.

“We didn’t really swap much more than pleasantries, did we? I think Melanie was just freaked out we knew each other.” Nicola’s fire helmet was pulled down, nearly obscuring her eyes, but I could see they were watching me closely. “She wasn’t the only one who was surprised, though — you were the last person I expected to bump into.”

“I hope it was a pleasant surprise.” My tone was light, not giving away the fact I so desperately wanted her to be pleased.
Please be pleased.

“Of course.” She was rubbing her thumb and index finger together nervously. “It was lovely to see you. A shock, but lovely.”

There was silence for a few moments as we assessed each other. Up close and without Melanie’s prying glare, I could study Nicola’s face properly — and she still held a certain something. Sure, she looked older, but age sat well with her — she seemed comfortable in her own skin. What’s more, she still possessed deep, knowing eyes and full, rounded lips. Yep, those lips were still appealing. I was looking at them when she spoke.

“We should get together anyway, catch up,” she said. “Me and Melanie, you and whoever. Are you seeing anyone?” 

“Nobody special,” I said. “And it would be great to catch up.” I gave Nicola my widest smile.

In response, she took off her hat and ruffled her fair hair, which was shoulder-length but currently tied in a ponytail.

“Cool. I’ll see if I can work something out in between organising the wedding and working. If Melanie can’t make it, it’ll just have to be you and me, like old times.”

Which old times was she referring to? The one in the library, where we’d shared that kiss that changed my life? Just thinking about it made me want to do it all again, right there on the pavement before I’d even had my morning coffee. I felt a rush of desire spreading like fire through my body, which was ironic, seeing as Nicola was meant to put fires out, not start them. But she never had where I was concerned.

Oh Nicola Sheen, what do you do to me? Even after all these years.

“I would love that,” I replied.
And I would love to kiss you again, feel you pressed against me
.

“And next time—” Nicola said, stroking my arm with her right hand.

I jolted slightly at her touch. “Yes?”

“—Next time, maybe opt for porridge?” And then she gave me a wink.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say Nicola Sheen was flirting with me.

“I’ll do that,” I said before giggling like a teenager. Which in that moment, I was.

Nicola’s colleague interrupted us — he was sporting a bushy moustache which was either a hangover from Movember or an ill-advised fashion statement.

“We can take one rig back to the station now and the other can follow — you okay with that, boss?”

“Yep, sounds like a plan.”

I opened my eyes wider. Nicola was the boss. A fire
chief
. How incredibly sexy.

“Good to see you,” Nicola said. “But next time, let’s do it without a fire in tow?” She raised a delicious eyebrow in my direction.

“We can certainly try,” I replied.

Nicola turned to her colleague and they strode back towards their bright red vehicle. I watched her retreating figure all the way, before she turned around and jogged back to me, fishing her phone from her pocket.

“Should we… exchange numbers or something? So we can get in touch?” She waved her phone in the air in front of me.

I nodded, fishing in my bag for mine. “Sure, good idea.”

“You know, you’re not supposed to grab personal items when there’s a fire alarm,” she added.

“When you’re the firestarter, I think different rules apply.”

She held me with her gaze as I took the phone from her hands and began to punch in my number. Only a highly-trained eye would be able to tell my hands were shaking slightly. It only took a few seconds, and when I looked back up, her gaze was still on me, all-encompassing, total.

I wanted to tip-toe across the thread that was drawing us back together, to try and unravel what this all meant. Did Nicola turning up here mean anything? Or was it just pure coincidence? Whatever, Nicola’s intense stare told me she was trying to figure it out too.