"So what are you organising for my stag party? It's not really a strip club, is it?"
Will and I are sitting on my porch, feet up on the wooden railing, hands wrapped around mugs of tea. It's a fairly mild night for this time of year but still cool enough for jeans and jumpers – and in my case, Hello Kitty slippers. "Not unless that's what you'd like," I tell him.
"Hell no."
"Okay, good. Actually, I was thinking we'd start in the afternoon with Laser Tag and then just have a Guinness or two at O'Donoghue's."
"Sounds great."
"Is it wild enough for you?" I joke, knowing he isn't into getting drunk just for the sake of it – even as teens and at uni we'd both been very diligent about our studies and hadn't partied anywhere near as hard as many of our friends.
"It sounds perfect, Mi-Mi, really. Plus, I'm totally going to beat your arse at Laser Tag."
I grin evilly. "Oh, you mean like you did last time when I shot you fifteen seconds into the game then got you so many times you looked like a walking ad for Dulux? I hope you've warned Laila that you might be waiting for her at the church with rainbow coloured hair."
"Hmm, that's a point...maybe I'll wear a shower cap to protect my hair – not that I'll need it this time; I've been practising."
"Practise all you want, Willie Wonka, we both know I have superior shooting skills. As for the shower cap – I'm happy you feel secure enough in your masculinity to even think of wearing one. Shall I loan you my frilly pink number?"
In answer he pulls a cushion out from behind his back and hits me with it; I set my empty tea cup down on the floor and take a cushion in each hand to retaliate, yelling, "It's on!" The next ten minutes are a chaotic, no-holes-barred cushion fight that takes place not only on my porch but also in my garden and driveway, until I leap out from my hiding position behind his car and tackle him, tickling him mercilessly around his waist where he's most vulnerable.
"Okay, okay!" he gasps, barely able to draw a deep breath amongst all the laughter. Holding his hands up in defeat, he surrenders. "It is so not fair that you're not ticklish!"
"Proof positive that God's a woman," I tell him, putting out a hand to help him up off the ground. He's heard that one before, so merely gives a groan and a smirk and brushes himself off. "Do you want another cuppa?" He does, so we move into the kitchen.
"So what's happening with you and Jake?" he asks as I put the kettle on. I've been expecting this question ever since he arrived and am surprised it's taken him this long to ask.
"Did Laila tell you to ask that?" I side-step.
"Yes," he grins, "But I want to know too. You've been hanging out rather a lot considering the guy lives 900 kilometres away."
At the reminder of just how much distance lies between us I sigh, still amazed at myself for seeing Jake as many times as I have. Some good friends of mine tried a long distance relationship and it crashed and burned, so I am not keen on the idea, yet I can't bring myself to say anything but 'yes' when he asks to see me again.
For now, I grunt in answer to Will's question and tell him, "When I figure out what's going on, I'll be sure to let you know."
"Oh, please; I can't go back to Laila with just that – you've got to give me more."
Handing him his refilled mug, I lean against the bench. "I really like him, Will," I say, sipping my tea. "He's fun to be around, he makes me laugh, is easy to talk to, smart, witty, charming...and, as you so kindly pointed out, lives a mere ten-hour drive away."
YOU ARE READING
The Lunchtime Special
RomanceWhen Mia meets her best friend's future brother-in-law she isn't expecting to feel an instant connection, nor for that bond to deepen in spite of almost a thousand kilometres between them. She loves her life and business in a small town in the Blue...