Phoebe let out a little wail and Bella had the impression had she not been wearing three inch heels she’d have stamped her foot. ‘Oh, I knew it. I just knew it. What a complete and utter mess. I could have killed Alex when he told me he’d given Will your number.’
Bella blinked. ‘Why?’
‘Because I knew he’d fancy you. And vice versa. Why do you think I haven’t introduced you before? Will is no good for you.’
‘I think he might be very good for me.’
She’d meant it as a throwaway comment, but the minute the words left her lips her heart began to hammer and she realised it was true. She might have managed to deny it for the last three interminable weeks, but she couldn’t any longer. She wanted him. Badly. She was so desperate with the need to finish what they’d started on the back seat of his car that she thought she might die with the ache of it.
So Will wouldn’t be any good for her in the long-term, but a part of her was beginning not to care. This foolhardy, reckless and increasingly insistent part of her was wondering whether she wasn’t being a bit melodramatic about the whole thing. Wondering whether she shouldn’t sling her long-term aims to one side, give in and go for a short hot fling. It didn’t have to detract from her long-term goals, did it? And besides, it was her birthday. Didn’t she deserve a little fun?
‘No,’ said Phoebe fiercely. ‘He wouldn’t. He’d be disastrous. Yes, he might be the most gorgeous man—after Alex, of course—to walk the planet, but he doesn’t do long-term and he definitely doesn’t do commitment.’
‘I know.’
Phoebe went still and her eyebrows shot up. ‘You do? But … ‘ Her face fell. ‘Oh, God. I’m too late, aren’t I?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘But he only does flings.’
‘Short and hot, I understand.’
‘Yes, by all accounts, but—’
‘Well, that’s good, then,’ said Bella, draining her glass and setting it down on a table, ‘because that’s exactly what I want. An extremely short, extremely scorching fling.’
‘You don’t.’
‘I do.’ God, she really did.
‘Bella, listen to me,’ said Phoebe, sounding a little panicked. ‘If Will ever let things go further than a handful of dates he’d leave a trail of broken hearts all over the place. He really isn’t what you need. You’re far better off with someone like Sam.’
Yes, he was and no, she wasn’t, Bella thought dazedly, staring at Will over the rim of her glass and feeling her blood heat. ‘Don’t w
orry, Phoebs,’ she murmured. ‘I just feel like a little fun on my birthday, that’s all.’
‘So get a manicure. Buy yourself a new handbag.’
‘I don’t want a manicure, or a new handbag. I want an affair with Will.’ Whether he still wanted an affair with her, of course, was anyone’s guess. Not once over the last three weeks had he flirted with her. Yes, their conversations had been wide-ranging and kind of personal, but they’d also been platonic and light. But never mind. She’d persuade him of the wisdom of her decision. How could she fail with such zeal on her side?
‘You’re mad.’
‘Possibly.’
‘Do you have any idea how catastrophic it could turn out to be?’
‘It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. He’s not going to break my heart.’
‘He will.’
‘He won’t. You said yourself he doesn’t let it go that far. And neither will I.’
‘But you may not have a lot of choice.’
She had every choice. And she’d made hers. It was simply a question of self-control and not letting her ultimate goal slip from her mind.
‘Phoebe,’ she said, shooting her friend a firm look, ‘I appreciate your concern, really I do. But I’ve made up my mind and nothing you say will make any difference.’