Wrapping my hair in curlers, I apply my moisturiser, pull my less-than-sexy onesie on and head out to the scent of rich coffee brewing.
The need for some fresh pastries burn through me as I go in hunt of my phone once more. The temptation to open up my UberEats app and make use of Nico’s card is seriously high.
The second he gets a notification of it being used though, it’s going to bring him straight to my door.
Is that a bad thing or…
I slam that thought down as my vagina attempts to take over my thought process.
Yes. Yes, it is a very, very bad idea.
But those pastries from the bakery a few streets over are so freaking good…
Before I know it, my thumb is flying over the screen and I’m ordering more buttery delights than one person should ever eat in a day, but fuck it. He owes me, and if he wants to turn up and try to punish me for it, then he can have it out with me through my locked front door.
With a weird kind of success—not that making him pay for my breakfast in any way makes up for the bullshit he’s pulled—I grab my coffee and curl up on my sofa to wait for my goodies to arrive.
I work my way through my notifications, shocked by the state of the messages I sent to both Jodie and Calli yesterday. They’re barely intelligible, and I can’t help but wonder why they didn’t turn up here demanding to check on my mental state.
Maybe they did, a little voice says in my head. Jodie has a key, and something tells me that I’d have slept through a tsunami with the amount of prosecco that was in my system.
I send them both new messages that make a little more sense before opening up another conversation. One I’m not so excited about.
Brad: I miss you, baby. Let me take you out tonight.
My heart sinks as I look at the time of his message and realise he sent it this morning and I haven’t slept through his invite.
Brad: You there, pretty girl?
Brad: Is dinner not a good enough offer? How about I promise to eat you after until every one of your neighbours knows my name?
“Pretty sure they already do, but whatever,” I mutter to myself before my eyes drop to his next message.
Brad: Is something wrong, baby? Did I do something wrong?
“Jesus, get a clue.”
I’m about to reply when my buzzer goes off and my heart jumps into my throat.
Would that have been enough time for Nico to get from Knight’s Ridge to my building? Or is it just my breakfast?
Questioning my impulsive decision to use his credit card again, I make my way over to the small screen by the door which will allow me to find out the answer.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I just find a man standing there with my order.
Hitting the button to allow him entry, I unlock my door, finding the deadlocks haven’t been engaged and making me question whether Jodie did make an appearance yesterday or not.
Footsteps sound on the stairs as I step out, ready to intercept the delivery guy on his way to my flat.
“Carl,” I say with a smile when he gets closer. “Long time no see.”
“Hey, Bri. Looking good. It’s been a while since your name popped up on my screen.” His eyes glitter with wicked intent before they drop down to take in my less-than-desirable outfit.
“Been trying to be good, you know how it is,” I tease, unable to rein in the flirting.
Carl and I have hooked up once. He used to deliver to me almost weekly, and after a few heavy flirting sessions, he finally returned after his shift one night and rocked my world. Well, he thinks he did. I can be a good actress when I want to be. But needless to say, there hasn’t been a repeat of that night despite his best attempts to lure me back in.
“Well, it’s working. You’re smoking.” His eyes take another leisurely trip around my body, but despite his best efforts, there are zero tingles or flutters in my nether regions. My vag remembers his flappy tongue and lost fingers all too well.