Just the Way You Are (14 page)

We broke apart and I curled my body close to Max’s. His strong arms held me in an affectionate, safe embrace and there was no place in the world I wanted to be except here. I tried to think of some witty post-kiss comment to say, but I couldn’t. All I could do was look at him, staring into his huge dark eyes. I found myself wondering if Mr Writer was anything like him; kind, sweet, the best hugger in the world… God, I hoped so.

‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked.

I felt his warm hand touch my own and he linked our fingers together. Gently and a little uncertainly, he began stroking the front of my hand. My stomach did a little somersault and a smile crept onto my lips. Reassured by the fact I hadn’t pulled away, he tenderly squeezed it and grinned.

‘About a million and one different things,’ I said with a smile.

‘Ava, I think we should…’

He was cut short by the doorbell ringing. We both jumped in fright.

‘Christ, who can that be at this time?! It’s gone midnight!’

He walked down the hall and I followed him, stopping halfway down.

‘I’m just off to the bathroom; won’t be a minute,’ I said.

He nodded and squeezed my hand, then let me go. I went into the bathroom and locked the door behind me; I needed a minute to process everything that had happened tonight. My head was an absolute mess, yet I had the feeling I’d never been happier. It was utter madness kissing Max when I had Nate and Mr Writer to think about, but it all seemed so… so
natural
. There had been an intense heat between Max and me, which I definitely hadn’t felt with anyone else before. I sank down to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest.

What does this all mean?

My thoughts turned to the ever-elusive Mr Writer. I wondered again if he was anything like Max. I really hoped he was; if he was even a little bit like him, he’d be perfect. A bizarre thought entered my head; what if Max
was
Mr Writer? He was kind, caring and thoughtful – maybe, just maybe, I’d been too quick to discount him… I dismissed the thought and laughed out loud; the idea alone was ridiculous. Max wasn’t the letter-writing type; he was far more direct. If he liked someone, he let them know about it. He wasn’t the type to hide behind a persona created in beautiful letters.

Just then, I heard muffled voices coming closer to me.

‘…wanted to surprise you… like it?’ I recognised the voice as Amira’s and my blood froze.

I opened the door a little and peered out. Sure enough, she and Max were standing in the hall. She had her back to me but I could already tell she looked sensational. She was wearing what looked like a black mac and matching stilettos.

‘Amira…’

‘Come on Max, we’re good for each other; you know we are.’ Her voice was clearer now, all whiny and a little bit nasal. ‘You haven’t given me an answer about whether you want to give things another go so what’s a girl to do?’

‘Look, there’s something…’

Max stopped talking as soon as she undid the mac and let it drop to the floor. Underneath it, she was wearing nothing. Not a bloody stitch. All I could see was the perfect curve in her back, her pert bottom and shapely pins. She sashayed up to him, grabbed his T-shirt and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

I reared back from the door, sick to my stomach. How could he? We’d been kissing just moments before Amira turned up and now he was all over her like a rash. I watched as she guided him towards the bedroom, her lips still welded to his. A lump formed in my throat and my stomach dropped to my shoes.

I waited until I heard the bedroom door slam shut and made a hasty exit from the flat. All in all, it had been the worst night of my life.

Chapter 14

Adam Johnson’s message arrived on the same day as another letter from Mr Writer. I took this to be a fabulous coincidence and happily arranged a meeting with him. We were having lunch at a swanky café in the city centre.

I was glad of the distraction; the whole thing with Max was weighing heavily on my mind, as was the prospect of going out with Nate – not to mention my fruitless search for Leo Browning. It had been two weeks now since I’d put the notice up on Friends Reunited and no one had got in touch with me. I was beginning to wonder whether I’d ever be able to reunite Ivy and Leo. Every fibre of me hoped so.

Later that day, I treated Gwen to breakfast from Pret a Manger and an update on all things Mr Writer. She seemed to have perked up a bit since the initial distress of finding out Tom was married, but had sworn off men for the foreseeable future.

‘Anyone with a penis is my enemy right now,’ she said over muffins and coffee. ‘Anyway, what’s happening with you? Got your story ready for the Kiss and Tell Ball yet?’

I dropped my gaze to the Formica table. The Kiss and Tell Ball hadn’t taken priority lately, despite the amazing opportunity it presented.

‘No, I need to get my arse in gear though; it’s in less than eight weeks’ time! That means I’ve got less than two months to find Leo, reunite him with Ivy and give them the happy ending they deserve. No pressure eh?’

‘Can you find me a happy ending while you’re at it; one that maybe doesn’t involve me being shat on from a great height? You can get me a cat if you want.’

‘I would if I wasn’t so bloody allergic!’ I laughed. ‘Anyway, here’s Mr Writer’s latest letter.’

Dear Ava,

It’s been around a month now since I started writing to you again. A lot of things have changed in that time but one thing hasn’t: I’m still totally and completely in love with you. Getting back in contact with you has made me realise that you’re definitely the one I want to be with
–
as if there could be any doubt. Writing to you makes me happier than I ever thought possible; you really are the loveliest girl in the world. Some people ask me why I do it when there’s no way of you replying to me. My answer is simple: to make you happy. I want the letters to show you how special you are to me and let you see all the amazing qualities you have that you don’t see. After all, we’re really good at seeing our weaknesses but not our strengths.

If this letter reaches you at a time where you perhaps need reassurance or something to make you feel better, then I hope what I’ve written does just that. Life’s a rollercoaster, as Ronan Keating says, and you can find yourself going from the biggest high to the worst low in the space of a few minutes. I want you to know that, if you’ll have me, I’ll be there for every moment, good or bad. I’m not the type of person to run away when the going gets tough (sorry for all the Boyzone references, they stop now I promise!). I’ll be around whenever you need me, doing whatever you need to me to do. Keep smiling, beautiful.

Love always

?

‘Mr Writer strikes again!’ Gwen grinned and gave the letter back to me. ‘You lucky cow; looks like Ivy won’t be the only one getting her happy-ever-after!’

‘I need to get my Miss Marple hat on I think! Talking of Mr Writer, I’m meeting candidate number two today, if you fancy coming with?’

‘Duh!’

As the magnitude of what I had to do dawned on me, it became clear that I had to pull it together. There wasn’t just one but two love stories riding on me finding Mr Writer and Leo, not to mention my journalistic career. The stakes had never been higher; it was time for action.

***

Caffe Crema lay right in the centre of Manchester, a smart little place that did posh sandwiches and proper coffee. It was there, on a rainy November afternoon, that I was about to meet Potential Mr Writer number two, Adam Johnson. Gwen and I sat huddled at a little table in the corner, keeping ourselves tucked away and out of sight. We had a good view of the door so that when Adam came in, we’d know. I took half-hearted sips of my latte, while Gwen guarded her packed tray with her life. There were two steaming mugs of coffee, a plate of sandwiches and some cake. Clearly, she expected to be here a while, I thought.

‘OK, so same plan as before,’ she said, taking charge in that amazing way she did. For someone so scatter-brained, Gwen was great at focusing herself when the situation demanded it. ‘If he’s weird, make a noise or something and we’ll come running right over. No safe words this time, although Lapsang Souchong was a bloody good one if I do say so myself.’

‘We?’ I asked. ‘It’s just you and me here!’

Right on cue, the door swung open and Max walked in. As much as I hated to admit it, he looked delicious in a deep red T-shirt and his favourite pair of jeans. Our eyes locked for the briefest of seconds and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my ribcage.

‘I invited Max along in case we needed reinforcements,’ Gwen explained as he took a seat next to us. ‘Plus, I don’t fancy sitting on my own while you go off and meet the potential love of your life.’

‘All right Munchkin?’ He raised his eyebrows at me and attempted a smile.

‘Yeah not bad.’ Try as I might, I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye. The night of the Halloween wedding had completely changed our friendship and I didn’t know how to be around him any more.

‘I got you some coffee and cake!’ Gwen piped up. ‘Will we go and sit over there while Ava waits for her mystery man?’

I silently kicked myself. The massive pile of food on her tray made perfect sense now.

‘Yeah sure.’

Max couldn’t take his eyes off me as we went our separate ways. I selected a table next to the gorgeous bay window and picked at my cake while Gwen and Max effortlessly fell into conversation with one another. I felt a pang of something deep inside that I couldn’t quite put a name to. They laughed together at something she’d said and she put her hand on his arm. Immediately, I wanted to jump up from my seat, run over and shove cake in her face. Surely Gwen wasn’t
flirting
with Max?

Just then, the little bell over the door tinkled to let the room know someone new was coming in. I turned to look and saw Adam Johnson standing in the doorway. Little drops of rain clung to his russet-brown hair and leather jacket and he looked like a normal, average bloke. His bone structure had once screamed “male model” but he’d filled out now. His features had softened and he now had a solid, dependable look that I liked equally as much.

I got up and made my way over to him.

‘Hi Adam.’ My words came out in a strange garbled mess that sounded like a cat being strangled.

He turned to see where the voice had come from and when his eyes fell on me, his striking face broke out into a wide grin.

‘Ava Clements, it’s really bloody you isn’t it?’ His brogue came straight from middle England and his posh, slightly clipped tones were a result of spending fifteen years boarding at a posh boys’ school.

‘It was the last time I checked! Great to see you by the way, you look fab!’

I opened my arms to him and he brought me into a warm, tight embrace. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Max briefly glance our way then return to his cake and coffee. Gwen was trying her best to engage with him but from the stony look on his face, he wasn’t having any of it.

‘You too, you gorgeous thing!’ Adam’s voice brought me back to the moment. ‘Where are you sitting?’

‘Just over there.’ I pointed to the table by the bay window. ‘Come and join me when you’ve got something to eat.’

I went back to my seat to wait for Adam. Gwen went off presumably to find a toilet and, to my horror, Max broke his cover and made his way over to me.

‘What the hell are you doing?! Adam’s in the queue!’ I hissed. ‘Go back and sit down.’

‘I just want to talk to you for five minutes Ava; you haven’t spoken to me for nearly a fortnight now and it’s killing me.’ Although he was doing his best to keep his voice low, I could hear the desperation in it. When I dared to look up into his eyes, I saw how sad they looked. It was as though they were pleading with me to hear him out.

‘Can we not do this now Max, I’m in the middle of something pretty important.’

I didn’t like blowing him off but moments before I was about to vet my second Mr Writer candidate wasn’t a good time to clear the air. Plus I still had absolutely no idea what to say to him.

He sighed. ‘Fine. I just wanted to let you know I’m not back with Amira. She came round while you were in the bathroom and tried to sleep with me but I sent her packing. I don’t want her, I want…’

Adam’s footsteps behind him sent Max scurrying back to his table. He gave me a pointed look then took a massive sip of his dark coffee, screwing his face up because he didn’t like the taste. Gwen had obviously forgotten he took milk in his coffee, along with two and a half sugars.

I was just about to laugh when Adam plonked himself down in front of me. His tall, dark frame completely blocked Max from view.

‘I must say, it was a splendid surprise to hear from you Ava. Truth be told, I always had a bit of a crush on you at university.’

My neck and cheeks pinked up. ‘Really, I had no idea!’

‘I’m not really the kind of chap to put himself forward in situations like that, so I always just admired from afar. You were such a lovely little thing and by the looks of things, you still are.’

I wasn’t sure if I liked being described as a “little thing” but decided to ignore it. After all, maybe Adam was nervous. I definitely was.

The meeting continued well. Adam was a gentleman, slipping in compliments here and there and offering to buy me another cup of coffee and a slice of cake. Needless to say, I didn’t object: what girl didn’t love coffee and cake after all? The only thing missing was that vital spark of chemistry, the starting point for creating something beautiful. I was sure I’d have that with my Mr Writer when I finally met him; the fact I didn’t with Adam meant it wasn’t likely he was behind the letters. He talked animatedly about art and film and music; I should’ve felt instantly drawn to him, but I didn’t. All too often, I found my eyes drifting to where Gwen and Max were sitting. My insides twisted into knots when I saw the easy banter that flowed between them, the exchange of jokes and swapping of inside stories. As much as I hated to admit it, I was jealous.

Desperate to cling onto the tiny shred of hope that I was sitting opposite my secret admirer, I prepared to broach the Big Question.