As I jump in the uber my phone buzzes just as we pull away.
I look at the message from the unsaved number.
"Don't worry about it. Stop apologising so much, I told you that. Good, message me when you're home."
Jesus, he's blunt and fierce.
Hot.
~~
The Uber ride is quick and I make my way through the front door.
As soon as I step foot inside my phone rings in my hand.
"BFF" lights up the screen with a photo of me and Megs behind it.
I put the phone to my ear as I make my way through to the kitchen, kicking off my shoes as I walk.
"Hey girl, you alright?" I ask her.
She never phones me when she's with Mark. Too busy...yeah, I'm not thinking about that.
"Yeah, I just wanted to ask how your evening was? Did James bring up this morning?" she asks.
I walk to the fridge and sigh as I notice there's nothing in the fridge, probably why I had planned to grab food on my way home.
Shit.
Why didn't I do that?
Oh yes. My mind was much to occupied.
"It was fine, I managed to get some decent photos."
"Oh good," she mutters as I continue.
"Yeah, went pretty well, until I was a rude bitch to him."
Megs laughs down the phone, "God, what did you do now?" she asks.
"He got all protective and wanted to drive me home again, but I insisted he didn't need to and then yeah basically told him to suck it," I reply, grabbing the leftover tomato pasta from the back of the fridge.
"Jesus, Liv, maybe he was just trying to be nice to you," she adds.
"Yeah I know and I did tell him I was sorry after."
"Okay, well just remember what you said about putting this job first and not him, don't fuck it up Liv," Megs replies.
I huff at her comment and roll my eyes.
"I won't, anyway enough about me, how was work? Also how long has this tomato pasta been in the fridge?" I ask.
"Oh yeah I totally need to tell you what happened today," she starts, I roll my eyes again in preparation for her rant about a coffee shop customer, "-anddd probably like a day or two? I can't remember when I made it, anyway listen up."
I put my phone between my ear and listen to her full on rant about someone who asked for a black coffee and complained when they were given exactly what they asked for.
I put the pasta in the microwave and grab a glass.
I put the phone down on the side, unable to hear Megs, but knowing full well she is still continuing her rage.
I grab my pasta, fork, water and phone and walk to the sofa.
I flick on some Netflix and dig into my pasta, not realising how hungry I was. Megs still in rage mode.
We continue our conversation for a good 30 more minutes and by this time I'm sprawled out on the sofa wrapped in a blanket.
Once Megs shuts up I hang up and chuck my phone on the other sofa.
She can talk for England.
I can feel my eyes starting to drift and let them close.
I'm too cosy right now to move to my cold bed.
YOU ARE READING
Love on Ice
RomantikOlivia is an aspiring photographer. She has spent her life dedicated to capturing moments. In her final year at uni she has managed to get a once in a life time job working as the official photographer for the city's ice hockey team. Things are fina...