Cwtch Me If You Can (3 page)

And she wants to know all about the other girl. She's itching to go onto Will's Facebook page and try to figure out who the girl he left me for is. Not in a mean way, just nosy.

I tell her about Sean the waiter, too. I don't mention what nice hair he had, but when she asks me if he was fit, I shrug and say, ‘I guess.'

I'd tried to find him on Monday – I went into Bella Italia in the early evening and asked if he was working. He wasn't.

‘It's just,' I said, ‘I was here on Friday, and I sort of accidentally left without paying, and…'

‘Oh. You're the girl who got dumped, aren't you?'

My cheeks flamed. ‘Yes. That's me. And I wanted to pay what I owe –'

‘Sean already settled the bill for you.'

‘That's very generous of him, but –'

‘You'll have to take it up with Sean.'

‘Well,' I sighed, ‘could you tell me when he's working?'

‘Not until Thursday.'

Since I haven't got any other way to contact him, I make the decision to go back again on Thursday to pay him back. I should've asked for his last name. Then I could've looked him up on Facebook, and tried to contact him that way.

The door opens, and Cerys and I both stand up straight.

It's two guys and a girl, around my age, and they browse the baked treats before shuffling up, one by one, to the counter, giving Cerys their orders to-go and waiting for me to make them up.

When I finish the third drink, I turn to put it down on the counter.

‘Latte, extra espresso,' I say, handing it to the guy. He looks familiar, but I can't place him… I guess I've probably seen him around the town some time.

‘Hey,' he says brightly, like he knows me, or something. ‘Alex.'

I frown at him, racking my brain trying to figure out who the hell this guy (this very attractive guy, I might add) is. ‘Um, yeah… Sorry, who are you?'

His left eyebrow quirks up. ‘You don't recognise me?'

I frown deeper, squinting at him, and thinking harder. ‘Sorry. No. Did we maybe… meet at a party, or something?' I'm trying to think where he might know me from. Is he one of Will's friends? Is he in my college class?

He doesn't look disappointed, though, just smiles wider.
God, that smile could make a girl swoon
, I think.

Thick, brown hair with slight curls in sexy disarray, and bright green eyes. He's got glasses on – rectangular black frames that suit him well – and he looks incredible in a green jumper and worn jeans. He looks like a guy you'd be happy to take home to meet your parents. Cathy would most definitely approve.

His eyes flicker down, to the open neck of my blouse, and for a minute I think he's actually being a prat to look so obviously at my cleavage, until he says –

‘You're still wearing it.'

‘Wearing what?'

‘The necklace.'

I touch a hand to my necklace. Even if I'm mad at Will, I haven't got over him just yet.

Then something slides into place in my brain.

‘
Ohmigod
. Sean?'

‘Ah.' He flashes me that smile again. ‘So you do remember me.'

‘God. Oh, my God. Listen, I'm so sorry about Friday night. I didn't mean to, you know, hijack your night when you were working, or anything, and I'm sorry for being such a pain. And you have to let me pay you back for the taxi and the food. I tried to find you Monday at the restaurant but they told me you weren't working until tomorrow…'

I stop for air, having talked a mile a minute, and Sean laughs. It's a deep, low laugh that makes my belly feel warm and full of butterflies.

‘Don't worry about it. You were having a really rough night, and I'm glad I could help.'

‘Seriously, though, you have to let me pay you back. How much was it? I have some cash in my purse, so I can pay you back at least a bit now, and I can bring you the rest tomorrow, when you're working, or –'

‘Really, don't worry. I'll consider it a Good Samaritan act,' he jokes. ‘Use it to build up my good karma.' He lifts his latte toward me in a gesture like he's going to say ‘cheers'. ‘I'll catch you round, Alex.'

‘See – see you round,' I stammer in reply, watching him go back to his friends near the door, and they all leave.

Cerys grabs me by the shoulders, giving me a little shake. ‘That boy could not be any cuter if he tried.'

‘Oh, I don't know about that…'

‘Why didn't you give him your number? Even if you don't want to go out with him, that's the kind of guy you want to keep around. Or you should've asked for his number.'

‘I told you earlier – I've sworn off all guys.'

‘Sweetie, he wasn't just a guy. He was a
god
. I can still appreciate an attractive guy when I see one.'

I snort, shaking my head at her.

I've promised myself I won't date again for a while, until I'm properly over Will, and Sean is exactly the kind of guy who would make me forget about that promise. It's a good thing I'll probably never see him again.

Chapter Four

The lights flash between white and blue and purple, and back again. I bounce on my feet, body swaying side to side, and sigh. Cathy doesn't notice. She's got her arms above her head, hips sashaying in time with the music, eyes drooping from adrenaline and alcohol. I have no idea where Ellie and Julia have buggered off to, but I wish they'd come back. If they've gone home and left me here, I'll kill them.

Some guy sidles up behind me, puts his hands on my hips and pulls me against him.

Reason five billion and seven why I hate clubbing.

I peel his hands off me, glaring at him over my shoulder. He just smiles back, not getting the message. Great. Just what I need. I tell him where to go, shouting to be heard over the pounding music, and he holds his hands up in surrender, stumbling back a step.

‘Whoa, chill out,' he slurs, but walks away.

I grab Cathy's arm to get her attention, and her eyes snap open, taking a few seconds to focus on me. ‘I'm going outside. I need some air.'

‘Okay. I'll be at the bar. Come find me there. Do you want me to get you another drink?'

Another drink would make this more bearable, but I'm not in the mood for it. I tell her so, and she nods, walking with me halfway before I head off toward the doors. I have to elbow my way through swarms of people crowding to get to the bar or the dance floor, but eventually I break out into the cold night air, and gulp down a big breath.

It's the last Saturday before Easter, late in March. Next weekend, most people will be going home. The uni students will have finished lectures for the term, and people in work will be making the most of the bank holiday to go see their families or take a well-earned break. This is the last chance most of us have to go out with our friends until after exams.

And even though it has been almost two months since Will broke up with me, it still stings. I'm still swearing off all guys, much to Cathy's surprise. Will has ruined any belief I had in romance.

I wrap my arms around myself, teeth chattering from the cold. I am only wearing shorts and a red silky camisole, and now, away from all the sweaty, dancing people back inside, I'm
freezing
.

I start to debate going back inside, or maybe just going home, when a voice interrupts my thoughts.

‘Not your sort of thing either, huh?'

I look over to my left, and my jaw drops. He is smiling shyly, pushing back his hair with one hand and messing it up, as he steps closer to me.

‘Sean,' I choke out. ‘Hi.'

Okay, so even if I
have
promised myself I'm not going to date any other guys for a long while yet, I've been keeping an eye out for Sean. I reckon he must be studying at Cardiff. But it's a big place, and it's not
that
easy to just run into someone.

Which has either been really lucky, or unlucky.

He's been back into my Starbucks a few times – twice when we were so busy I could only throw him a fleeting smile before making up more orders, and a couple of times when I wasn't there. Cerys would tell me the next time we were on together, ‘Your fit friend came in the other day.'

‘Did he ask about me?' I couldn't help myself.

‘He just said, ‘I guess Alex isn't on today.' And I said, ‘Nope.''

Other than that, I haven't seen him.

And now he's
here
, of all places, when I have hair sticking to the back of my neck and probably stink of booze and sweat from just being in the club. I can hardly believe it.

Sean, of course, looks drop-dead gorgeous again.

‘Not your kinda thing?' he asks again.

‘Not really. What about you?'

‘I don't mind it, but I was kind of hoping to have a quiet night in.'

‘With your girlfriend?' I blurt, unable to stop myself.

He laughs. ‘No, with an essay I've got due in. God, that makes me sound like a loser, doesn't it?'

‘No, not at all,' I say quickly, even though Julia would agree with him. ‘I'm only here because my mates dragged me out.'

‘Same.' He leans one shoulder against the wall, his body turned towards me.

‘So how did they bribe you to come out?' I ask. ‘My friends promised to buy my drinks all night.'

‘Well they didn't so much bribe me, they just…' He sighs, then smiles sheepishly at me. ‘It's my birthday. And somehow they talked me into coming out to celebrate, rather than writing an essay.'

‘Oh.' I bite my lip but say, ‘Well, uh, happy birthday!'

‘Thanks.'

‘How old are you?' I ask, before I can wonder if that's too rude to ask because really, when you think about it, I barely know him.

‘Twenty-two,' he grumbles.

‘And you didn't want to celebrate?'

‘My idea of celebrating doesn't really include clubs.' He eyes the doorway behind us, his gaze trailing up to the roof, and his lips curl in distaste.

‘Well, what does it include?'

Screw this whole thing of swearing off guys – I might not be the romantic I used to be, but hell, I am
not
passing up the opportunity to flirt with a guy as sexy as Sean when he's giving me the chance.

His eyes meet mine and for a second, I'm totally dumbstruck, and my legs feel like jelly. Is this what swooning feels like? If it is, then I'm swooning.

He leans toward me slightly – not like he's going to kiss me or anything, but like he's going to speak more softly, more intimately.

Up this close, I notice that his eyes aren't just green, but have flecks of gold in them.

And just when I thought he couldn't get any more gorgeous, he says, ‘Do you want to get out of here?'

Definitely swooning now.

Before I can respond, hands grab my shoulder and forearm, and Cathy leans up against me, head on my shoulder. ‘You're not going home, are you?'

I push her up so she's standing more on her own feet. Her eyes are wide, but glazed-over slightly, and her smile is wide and expectant. ‘Where's Jules and Ellie?' I ask.

‘Oh, they're inside. They were in the loos.' Her words are slurred, and when she says ‘loos' it comes out more like ‘loooooooos.'

‘So they're staying with you?'

‘Uh-huuuuuuh.'

‘I think we were just about to head somewhere else,' Sean pitches in, stepping out from the wall to get Cathy's attention. His eyes flicker back to me. ‘Unless you'd rather stay here with your mates?'

‘Wait,' Cathy says, sounding a little more sober now. Her eyes narrow at Sean. ‘Don't I know you?'

‘Um, I don't know.'

She squints at him more, then squeals. ‘Ooh! Ooh, I know how I know you! Aren't you like, treasurer or something for the French society?'

‘Yeah, that's me.'

Cathy's mouth opens slightly as if she's about to say something to me, but then she looks back at Sean, and her eyes widen even further. Her mouth slides very slowly back shut. ‘Right. Okay.' She hiccups. ‘I'll leave you to it. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

My best friend skips back inside the club, shooting me a grin over her shoulder, and winking. I want to turn to dust and blow away in the wind, I'm so embarrassed.

Sean doesn't seem to notice. He just smiles easily at me, and says, ‘Your friend?'

‘Best friend. And she kind of acts like mum in our house. Fixing holes in pockets and making sure we've got enough dish-washer tablets and paracetamol in the cupboards, you know.'

Sean laughs. ‘In that case, I'm probably house-mum. I'm always doing stuff like that.'

I smile, and then, because it looks like we're going somewhere together – and not back into the club – I say, ‘So, where are we going?'

We end up in McDonalds.

Hardly glamorous, I know, but it's not like there are any coffee shops open right now, and most of the pubs are rowdy and near closing. So we're sitting in the too-bright light of McDonalds, opposite each other at a table near the window, with fries and cups of tea between us.

And I can't think of a single thing to say to him. I know this isn't a date, but still…

‘You're not wearing that necklace,' he says, filling the silence.

‘You're not wearing your glasses,' I respond.

‘Contacts. They're easier on a night out. Did you get rid of it? The necklace, I mean.'

I touch a hand to my naked throat. ‘No. It's buried in my jewellery box.'

‘Well, that's better than still wearing it.' He smiles.

‘I'm still not really over him.'

I'm such an idiot!
Was that a good thing to say? Is he going to run a mile now because he thinks I'm one of those girls who obsesses over an ex-boyfriend?

But hey – he brought it up.

I bite my lip, looking away from him out of the window. I hope I'm not blushing. And I hope he doesn't think I'm as big an idiot as I feel.