Not That Easy (21 page)

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Authors: Radhika Sanghani

BOOK: Not That Easy
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I had to go back to my fantasy. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine being on all fours again. Okay, penis in my mouth, something licking my clitoris. Wait, surely it was someone not something? I zoomed my fantasy out, as though it was on a camera
screen, and saw me on the table. A man had his penis in my mouth and behind me a big dark dog was licking my vagina.

I screamed out loud.

“Ellie, are you okay?” asked Nick. “Did I hurt you?”

I opened my eyes wide. Nick's concerned face was hovering over me. I got off on being licked out by a dog. I was into bestiality. Couldn't you get locked up for that?

“Um, I'm fine, sorry; it just felt sensitive for a second. Let's carry on,” I said quickly.

“Okay, shall we do doggy?” he asked.

I gulped and closed my eyes briefly. It was a coincidence. He could not read my mind. He didn't know I had imagined a dog licking my clit. Besides, it would be better if he could fuck me from behind; I could keep my eyes screwed shut and try to imagine lots and lots of male tongues licking me—with no dogs in sight.

I got on all fours and he thrust himself into me. I winced in pain. My vagina seemed to have dried up the second I saw the dog. I sighed out loud as Nick came inside me and groaned. Yet again, I'd ruined my chance at an orgasm.

30

I was standing on my bed in a state of mild panic. Clothes were strewn across every surface but the tote on the floor was still empty. I had no idea what to pack for my mini-break. Knowing where the Isle of Wight was barely even helped—I still had no idea what to expect. The only islands I'd ever frequented were off the coast of Greece and came with sand and see-through water. I doubted the British equivalent would offer the same climate.

I didn't want to be the girl who went on a country mini-break with heels and dresses. But did that mean Topshop dresses and flats would be okay—or should I go for leggings and knitwear? God, what if it was extra rainy there? Maybe I needed a windbreaker?!

I seriously needed Emma. I'd barely seen her ever since we'd had that awkward conversation and, whenever I texted her, she just sent me polite but distant replies. I took a deep breath and padded across the hallway to her bedroom.

“Emma?” I asked, tapping gently on the door.

There was no response. I rapped harder.

“What's up?” she said, as the door flung open. I fell against her.

“Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were going to open the door,” I said. She gave me a withering stare. Shit. She was still pissed. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to ask her for a favor?

“Oh-kay. What do you want, Ellie? Advice on your mini-break?”

“Of course not!” I cried. “I just wanted to say sorry again. I hate this weirdness, Em. I really didn't mean for anything to happen with Ollie and I especially did not mean to fuck up the house situation.”

She sighed and her face softened slightly. I kept going.

“You know I only ever thought of Ollie as a totally unattainable crush. I had no idea he would ever consider sleeping with someone like me when he's like ten times fitter than me. I was just so flattered that I kind of just caved in.”

Her face hardened again. Bugger. “You've already said all this, but I don't know why you have such low self-esteem, Ellie. You've basically got a boyfriend now.”

“Huh?”

“Nick,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He's taking you to meet his family in the Isle of Wight. That doesn't exactly say casual.”

“What? He's only taking me so we can have a shag-fest in the cottage.”

She stared at me. “Ellie, what are you on? I just . . . He's treating you so well and you're just going around sleeping with other people behind his back.”

“Um, one person. And we're not official. We've never even discussed being casual or not. Where is all this coming from, Emma? Sorry, are you trying to say I've cheated on Nick?”

“Not officially, fine. But if I were him, I'd be pretty pissed off to find out that you'd slept with someone else.”

“I don't really think he'd care,” I said.

“God, you're so naïve,” she shrieked. “Have you told him?”

“Um, no,” I whispered. I'd never seen Emma like this. She was normally so sweet and relaxed.

“Well, there you go. Sergio didn't tell me about that skank either. So, congratulations, you're just like him.”

She slammed the door in my face, leaving me standing in the hallway. I turned around and slowly walked back to my room. My open tote bag stared at me in accusation. I sat down on my bed with my back facing it.

Emma clearly wasn't over Sergio cheating on her and was just taking it out on me instead of him, but the Ollie thing had obviously upset her. Even Will seemed a bit hurt, instead of just pissed. I closed my eyes and tried to not think about it. Ollie had just fucked off back to Yomi, leaving me to deal with this whole mess. Leaving me in general. The guilt started seeping in again. Oh God, I couldn't deal with this again.

Right. Forget it all. Emma was just taking her misery out on me and she would get over it soon. I just needed to give her time. I forced myself to stop overthinking everything and stood back up to face my bag. I was going to the Isle of Wight straight after work tomorrow so I had to pack now.

There was no way I was going to be “that” girl in a romcom who headed down in heels and high-waisted dresses. No, I'd be going down in fleeces, jeans and thermals. Sod fashion. I was leaving the civilization of London anyway, so it didn't really matter what I wore. It wasn't like anyone in the Isle of Wight was going to understand color blocking and my Celine-inspired look. I'd be better off in a North Face jacket and jeans.

31

I stood nervously at Waterloo Station. I was wearing wellies and a waterproof coat, holding a blue bag filled with similar gear. I'd even left my work outfit back at the office so that I didn't have to drag heeled ankle boots and a smart dress with me on our weekend away. At least no matter what happened down there, no one would think I was a spoiled London girl.

“Ellie,” called Nick. I turned around and saw him grinning at me from across the station. I felt my vagina throb in response. He was wearing a suit—clearly, he wasn't as much of a forward-planner as I was—and he looked good. His curly blond hair was brushed to the side and, when he came over to give me a kiss, I could feel the jealousy emanating from every other woman in the station. Little did they know we weren't even in love, we were just casual. I grinned even more at that; how grown up was I going on a mini-break with a cas date!

“Well, look at you,” he said, taking a step back. “That is some serious industrial wear.”

I looked down at my black Hunter wellies and grinned. “Well, when in Rome . . .”

“Is it meant to rain then?” he asked.

“Oh, I have no idea,” I said, startled. “I just figured everyone down there wore, um, wellies and stuff. Because it's so near the sea.”

He laughed. “Fair enough. I'm sure you'll fit right in. Okay, we'd better go find our train. Do you want any snacks first?”

“Sure.” We walked to the nearest M&S. I wandered off to the sandwiches aisle and found myself a meal deal. I met Nick near the tills. He was holding a bottle of wine.

“Ah, sandwiches, smart move,” he said. “Maybe I should get one too.”

“I thought that was the plan. Is the wine for your parents? Maybe I should get them something too?”

“Oh don't worry, they're not really like that. I got this for the train down. It takes a few hours to get there, with the ferry as well.”

“Ferry?” I cried.

“Um, how else did you think we were going to cross the Channel? I thought the name gave it away, but you know it is an island?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Yes, okay, I just hadn't really considered the practicalities. I thought there might be a bridge, or . . . anyway, why don't you go find a sandwich?”

He laughed. “A bridge? You Brits are crazy. I'll meet you at the checkout.”

I clutched my meal deal close to me. Who knew what other surprises this trip had in store for me?

•   •   •

“Ellie, we're here,” said Nick, nudging me awake.

I yawned slowly before realizing the train had stopped and I probably had a line of drool down my face. “Okay,” I said, wiping my
face and running a finger under my eyes to get rid of the inevitable smudged mascara. “I can't believe I fell asleep.”

“Yep, before we started the wine. Which means now I get to bring a bottle to my parents and look like a good son.”

“Better late than never.”

“Hey, come on, we'd better grab our bags. We need to go find the ferry.”

I nodded sleepily and wrapped myself up in my coat. I followed Nick through the station to the ferry terminal.

“Have you got everything?” he asked.

“Yup, do we need to buy our tickets here?”

“Oh, don't worry, I've already sorted it,” he said.

I looked at him in surprise. “Really? Okay, well let me know how much I owe you.”

“It's fine,” he said. “Anyway, let me just find our tickets.”

“Cool,” I said. “We don't need our passports, do we?” He stared at me and shook his head wordlessly. “Right, no, obviously, we're still in England. It's just the only time I've taken the ferry before was to France, so I guess . . . okay so you've got the tickets? Yep, good.”

We walked onto the ferry. It looked like a moving version of an old pub. The carpet was maroon, patterned and threadbare. There was a cheap-looking bar at the end and, in the middle, there was an empty canteen. It was officially the most depressing mode of transport I'd ever taken.

“So what do you think?” he asked. “How does it compare to the France ferry?”

“It's a pretty, um, good carpet.”

He laughed. “Yeah. Can I get you a tea or something to get you through it?”

I looked up at the desolate café. “I'm fine, thanks.”

“Okay. Well, cheers to our first break together, Ellie.”

Had he meant that to come out so intensely? I stared at him,
but he smiled back as though nothing was amiss. “Okay, to . . . our first break together.”

He leaned over to give me a kiss and I felt a small lump materialize in my tummy. I had no idea how, but it looked like Emma might be right—maybe Nick did think of us as more than just fuck buddies?

But surely if he did, he would have mentioned it. Everyone knew that if a guy liked you, he'd tell you. That was the whole point of books like
The
Rules
and all that “he's just not that into you stuff”—if was he into you, he'd make sure you knew.

I was probably just overanalyzing things like I always did. It was only a few months ago that I'd managed to convince myself that Jack the Deflowerer had liked me when he'd only wanted casual sex. There was no way I was falling into a similar pattern with Nick. Nope, we were just fuck buddies who were hanging out on the coast. End of.

•   •   •

“Ellie, so nice to meet you,” cried Nick's mum. “I'm Linda.”

Linda was small, stunning and a redhead. She looked nothing like her lanky blond offspring.

“You too,” I said in a muffled voice as she wrapped me in a huge hug.

“This is Mike, my husband,” she said gesturing to the tall man next to her. He nodded at me and stuck out a hand. I shook it with an uneasy smile. “But you'll be wanting to meet the other young kids, won't you? Chris is just through there with Holly.”

I followed her into the living room with a quick glance behind me to check that Nick was coming too. He shot me a supportive smile.

“Bro,” said Chris, as he caught sight of Nick. He covered his brother in a huge hug and ruffled his hair. I swallowed, hoping he wasn't going to do the same to me.

“Shit, man, so good to see you,” said Nick as he hugged his brother
back just as heartily. “And, Holly, looking good as always.” He walked over to the sofa to greet the tall, skinny blonde girl sitting there. She was wearing black leather trousers, a gray jumper and was smoking a cigarette. Indoors.

“So, this must be the famous girlfriend,” said Chris. I looked at him weirdly. Why was he talking about Holly like that? “Ellie, right?”

I stared at him. He was smiling at me, waiting for an answer. I turned to look at Nick. He was smiling too. What the fuck? Why wasn't he correcting his brother?

No one had spoken yet and Chris' smile was starting to wane. Holly looked at me curiously as she puffed on what I had now realized was an e-cigarette.

OH GOD. HE'D TOLD THEM I WAS HIS GIRLFRIEND. Nick wasn't my fuck buddy at all—he was my goddamn boyfriend and he hadn't bothered to tell me.

Oh fuck fuck fuck. It was fine. This was a good thing. I could do this.

“Hi, yes, I'm Ellie,” I finally said.

Chris' face relaxed. “Cool, nice to meet you. This is my girlfriend, Holly. Just . . . make yourself at home. We're all having some whiskeys. You keen?”

I nodded mutely.

Chris poured me a drink and I took it gratefully, glad to have something to do with myself while everyone was staring at me.

“So, shall we all sit down then?” asked Nick. “What's on the telly? Are the All Blacks playing?”

“It was on earlier, bro; you missed it. But we've got it recorded,” said Chris. “Are you big on the boys, Ellie?”

Weren't the All Blacks another name for Converse? Or was that All Stars? Either way, there was no way I was going to guess and put my foot in it. I shrugged with a helpless smile, hoping Nick would save me.

He obliged: “Ellie's not much of rugby fan, are you?”

Ah. “Yeah, I pretty much hate all sport,” I explained. Chris' eyes widened and Holly stopped puffing on her e-cig.

“Seriously?” she said. “I have no idea how you're going to cope going out with a Kiwi.”

I refrained from pointing out that this was pretty much the first I'd heard that we were going out and instead poured the rest of the whiskey down me. So far, the casual mini-break was not going as planned.

“Ah, I'm sure Ellie will be a true All Blacks fan after going out with me for a few weeks,” said Nick, putting his arm around me.

I smiled weakly at him, trying not to throw up the whiskey I'd just swallowed. I, Ellie Kolstakis, now had a boyfriend. A bona fide partner who wanted to teach me to like his favorite sports. In a few months' time, we'd probably be bickering over watching rugby or trash reality TV. I'd never get to watch
The Only Way is Essex
again.

I gripped the side of the sofa and tried to calm myself down. Nick was good-looking, successful and HE LIKED ME. Surely the whole point of my slutdom was to eventually find a boyfriend? I'd just skipped ahead a few stages. I probably just felt so weird because I wasn't used to things happening quickly. I mean, it had taken me twenty-one years to break my hymen, for chrissake. No one could have predicted I'd have found a boyfriend so quickly. Besides, it was midnight on a Friday. I was knackered.

“Hey, Nick, when's this game going to end? I'm kind of sleepy,” I said.

Chris turned to look at me in dismay. “What? You can't go to sleep now—we just opened a full bottle of whiskey. Besides it's fifteen–twelve to the Wallabies and Richie's about to score a try.”

I stared at him blankly.

Holly sighed loudly. “He means we could be about to take the lead?”

“Oh, right, okay,” I said. I turned to Nick to see if he cared that Richie was about to score, but his eyes were glued to the screen.

“YESSSSS!!” he screamed, jumping up.

“McCaw's done it again,” yelled Chris, as he enveloped his brother in another bear hug. Holly was jumping up too, punching the air. I wasn't.

“Ah did you see that, Ellie?” cried Nick, as he wrapped me in a hug.

“Mmm, very good. So has New Zealand won?”

“Well, it's only halftime,” he said.

My mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

“Oh my God, Ellie thought it was over,” crowed Holly. “Bless. There's still forty minutes left. More whiskey?”

No, I did not want more whiskey; I wanted to go to bed with a hot water bottle. But Holly ignored my mental protestations and filled up my glass with Jameson.

“Thanks,” I said through gritted teeth. It looked like this was going to be a long night.

•   •   •

“So are your parents still downstairs?” I asked, as I sat on the bed pulling off my socks.

“Yeah, they'll probably stay up a while longer,” said Nick. “They're pretty cool.”

“Oh definitely.” I nodded, trying to stifle a yawn. We'd ended up staying downstairs drinking whiskey with the boys' parents for another two hours of rugby highlights. I hadn't even known Richie McCaw existed until 11:58 p.m. and now I never wanted to see his smug little face again.

“Do you like them? I reckon they're pretty keen on you.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said. It was true; they were great. Linda had even winked when Nick eventually led my shattered body upstairs.
My mum would have crossed herself and done a Hail Mary if she'd thought we were going up to shag. She didn't even know I was here alone with Nick—I'd lied and said I was away with the girls.

Nick pulled his T-shirt off and came up behind me on the bed. He wrapped his arms around me and started nuzzling my neck. I grinned at the feel of his naked skin against my body and turned to face him.

“I've wanted to do this ever since I saw you at Waterloo in your weird little gum boots,” he said, kissing me and pulling my fleece over my head.

I kissed him back and took the rest of my clothes off, ignoring the fact he thought my wellies were weird. He did the same and we climbed under the covers. There was a thin layer of dust on the bedsheet and I tried not to think about the last time they'd been washed. Instead, I remembered Nick basically calling me his girlfriend. Had I just totally hallucinated or was I in a legit relationship?

“Nick?” I asked.

“Yes, gorgeous?”

Oh my God he called me gorgeous. I felt a grin spread across my face, then stopped. I needed to double check where we were at in this relationship, or whatever. “Were you, um, serious before? Like, with what your brother said and stuff? You know?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, trying to maneuver his penis into my vagina. What had happened to
Cosmo
's rule that girls need twenty minutes of foreplay?

I pushed his hand off his penis. “Wait a sec. I just . . . Oh fuck it. Am I, or am I not, your girlfriend?”

Nick stopped trying to penetrate me and broke away from me. “Yeah. Is that not what we're doing?”

Holy fuck. I had a boyfriend. An actual willing boyfriend who I hadn't persuaded/influenced/blackmailed into being with me.

“Oh my God.” I grinned.

He laughed. “You Brits are so funny making everything official.
I've thought of you as my girlfriend since our first proper date, Ellie. We've always been so open with each other—it's not like it was going to just be a casual fling.”

“No, no, 'course not,” I said, still smiling inanely at him.

“Good. So, you're happy then?”

“Yes, of course,” I cried. “I just never expected it.”

“Well, so long as you weren't shagging anyone else, I guess that doesn't really matter.”

Oh shit.

Emma was right and so was Ollie; I'd basically cheated on Nick.

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