when I had no business giving a shit whether Justin came over or not. But I was twenty-two today. I deserved some company.
He arrived almost an hour dead from our last text, and even though I was expecting him, when the buzzer rang, telling me he was down at the front door. I jumped and then my stomach quivered with anxiety. God, this was madness. But it was Justin’s company or no-one’s, and no-one’s was a far worse choice.
I had no idea where he’d come from–where he lived.
My fingers were stupidly shaking as I pressed the intercom. “Hi.”
“It’s Justin.”
I pressed the button to free the door. “Come on up, I’m in the attic flat.”
Shit I didn’t even know if he knew that. Maybe he knew that? Maybe I’d let him up here New Year’s Eve.
My heart was going mad, I was so nervous; it pumped away with the pace of one of those crazy house music baselines like it was going to leap right out of my chest any moment. I twisted the lock and went out. I’d rather be in control of this– this time .
On the landing, which was decorated in a modern eclectic style of peeling paint and mold, I leaned over the banister, looking down. “Justin!” He was on about the third flight of stairs. He stopped and looked up.
“Portia! What’s up?”
I smiled. God, it felt so good to have someone here, I was such a sad case. My fingers gripped the wooden rail as he looked away and started jogging up the stairs again. I’d worked with him for a year, I’d never considered him anything other than a work colleague before a few days ago, but now my eyes seemed to be seeing something else.
He didn’t look any different though. His hair was cut dead short so he could hardly style it a new way, and he always had such a relaxed manner at work, he wasn’t going to be suddenly more laid back. Justin was Justin. But I liked what I saw. I mean, he didn’t have the obvious looks his friend Jason had had but he wasn’t at all bad looking and as he rounded the corner of the flight of stairs that would bring him up to my landing, his brown gaze caught mine. The guy had really nice eyes, like light shining through a glass of cola. He was kind of close to a young Will Smith when he smiled and definitely Jason Derulo standards when he didn’t.
I straightened up, smiling too. “Hey.”
“Hey. So this is your space then?”
He hadn’t been up here. That was good to know. “Yep. Come in.” He was carrying a shopping bag. I turned and went back inside. He held the bag out when he came in.
~
“This is for you.” I held out the stuff I’d got in a store along the street, offering it to Portia. Arriving empty handed would have been lame. “There’s M&Ms, vodka, cola and popcorn. All we need for a few hours of Netflix.”
She looked uncertain but she took the bag from my hand and checked inside it.
She was different outside the office. Her hair was down, and she was only wearing a vest top and a pair of skinny jeans which clung like a second skin. She looked like a different girl, a girl who might actually play a game of tonsil hockey in a pool with a guy about thirty steps below her on the social scale.
I knew she came from money but shit, you wouldn’t know it from the place she lived in, and as she unpacked the stuff from the bag and put it onto the tiny square of space she had beside the two plate cooker, I glanced about her room. It was just a room, with a single bed, cooker and TV all-in. I’d researched her family in a bored moment when she started at the magazine and I knew her parents were loaded.
I didn’t say anything as she tossed the packet of M&Ms and toffee popcorn on her bed. Then she looked up at me with those blue eyes that always seemed to judge people. “Thanks for coming over.”
“You’re welcome.”
She made a face at me, a cute face, her nose wrinkling, I’d never seen her wrinkle her nose, or look cute, ever. Sexy? Always…
“Shall I put a film on now then?”
“If you want,
He arrived almost an hour dead from our last text, and even though I was expecting him, when the buzzer rang, telling me he was down at the front door. I jumped and then my stomach quivered with anxiety. God, this was madness. But it was Justin’s company or no-one’s, and no-one’s was a far worse choice.
I had no idea where he’d come from–where he lived.
My fingers were stupidly shaking as I pressed the intercom. “Hi.”
“It’s Justin.”
I pressed the button to free the door. “Come on up, I’m in the attic flat.”
Shit I didn’t even know if he knew that. Maybe he knew that? Maybe I’d let him up here New Year’s Eve.
My heart was going mad, I was so nervous; it pumped away with the pace of one of those crazy house music baselines like it was going to leap right out of my chest any moment. I twisted the lock and went out. I’d rather be in control of this– this time .
On the landing, which was decorated in a modern eclectic style of peeling paint and mold, I leaned over the banister, looking down. “Justin!” He was on about the third flight of stairs. He stopped and looked up.
“Portia! What’s up?”
I smiled. God, it felt so good to have someone here, I was such a sad case. My fingers gripped the wooden rail as he looked away and started jogging up the stairs again. I’d worked with him for a year, I’d never considered him anything other than a work colleague before a few days ago, but now my eyes seemed to be seeing something else.
He didn’t look any different though. His hair was cut dead short so he could hardly style it a new way, and he always had such a relaxed manner at work, he wasn’t going to be suddenly more laid back. Justin was Justin. But I liked what I saw. I mean, he didn’t have the obvious looks his friend Jason had had but he wasn’t at all bad looking and as he rounded the corner of the flight of stairs that would bring him up to my landing, his brown gaze caught mine. The guy had really nice eyes, like light shining through a glass of cola. He was kind of close to a young Will Smith when he smiled and definitely Jason Derulo standards when he didn’t.
I straightened up, smiling too. “Hey.”
“Hey. So this is your space then?”
He hadn’t been up here. That was good to know. “Yep. Come in.” He was carrying a shopping bag. I turned and went back inside. He held the bag out when he came in.
~
“This is for you.” I held out the stuff I’d got in a store along the street, offering it to Portia. Arriving empty handed would have been lame. “There’s M&Ms, vodka, cola and popcorn. All we need for a few hours of Netflix.”
She looked uncertain but she took the bag from my hand and checked inside it.
She was different outside the office. Her hair was down, and she was only wearing a vest top and a pair of skinny jeans which clung like a second skin. She looked like a different girl, a girl who might actually play a game of tonsil hockey in a pool with a guy about thirty steps below her on the social scale.
I knew she came from money but shit, you wouldn’t know it from the place she lived in, and as she unpacked the stuff from the bag and put it onto the tiny square of space she had beside the two plate cooker, I glanced about her room. It was just a room, with a single bed, cooker and TV all-in. I’d researched her family in a bored moment when she started at the magazine and I knew her parents were loaded.
I didn’t say anything as she tossed the packet of M&Ms and toffee popcorn on her bed. Then she looked up at me with those blue eyes that always seemed to judge people. “Thanks for coming over.”
“You’re welcome.”
She made a face at me, a cute face, her nose wrinkling, I’d never seen her wrinkle her nose, or look cute, ever. Sexy? Always…
“Shall I put a film on now then?”
“If you want,
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