looking after you, Evey. I can’t keep tabs on you like before. It’s no good for us to live like that.”
I walked over to her and took firm hold of her shoulders. “Steph, I promise this isn’t like before. I had a swig because I had a rough day at work. I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.” I dropped my arms to my sides and nodded towards my swim bag, “I went for a swim, and that’s what I should have done before I took that bottle to my lips. Trust me?” I eagerly waited for her answer.
She pushed her curly blonde hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. “One hundred percent.”
“Have you eaten?” I asked to change the subject and also knowing that she hadn’t because she always waited for me to cook. When it came to household chores, Steph was hopeless, so I’d hoped she would gain more interest in cooking, but she had no interest in either. I, however, was a great cook. I had to learn from a young age to cook for myself and quite enjoyed it.
“No,” she admitted.
I looked into the kitchen sink, saw the dirty glasses were still sitting there, and groaned my way over to the fridge, where I looked for something quick and simple.
“Evey, I’ll order an Indian. Don’t worry about cooking.”
I spun around to face Steph, slamming the fridge door. “Steph, why order something when I can cook? You’re wasting money.” After scolding her, I got started on the dishes, making harsh work of it.
“Out with it,” Steph demanded from behind me. I could sense her crossed arms and serious, deep frown.
“With what?” I acted baffled, choosing not to face her.
“What’s with the foul mood?” she pushed.
Steph knew me better than anyone. We went to nursery together and were inseparable since then. She had become way more than a friend to me, and I also had an extremely close bond with her family and loved them like my own. They were all I had in London. I never had any other friends growing up because their parents didn’t want their child mixing with someone like me.
I finished the dishes and joined her on our mismatched sofa.
“It’s nothing.”
Her beady eyes were fixed on mine, assessing my features. “Alex is treating you right, isn’t he?”
I smiled a little at the thought of Alex, but it wasn’t a special smile. I smiled because of how nice he was. There was that word again— nice .
“Yes. He’s…wonderful.”
She bounced on her knees, getting a little exited. “He will be good for you, Evey. I know I would say that because he’s my big brother, but he’s a good man and that’s what you need.”
A good man? Is that what I needed? Just a…good man?
A safe option, more like.
“Hmm. How are you and Mathew?” I changed the subject every time I felt uncomfortable, and she did that groan she always did when Mathew was mentioned.
“Fine, I suppose. It’s just…he has no go in him anymore, Evey.”
Oh God, here she went. She could rant about her boyfriend for days. “He has no goals, no aims in life. He’s a postman who swans off down the pub every night. Then he calls over here and we have dull sex. He’s contented, but I need more than that.” She twirled her curls around her fingers, something she did when she was deep in thought. I pulled my legs up onto the sofa and unhooked my wet hair from my bun.
“Why don’t you talk to him? Tell him how you feel.”
“I have,” she moaned.
I raised my eyebrow on a smirk, knowing better. “Shouting at him is not talking. Besides”—I nodded towards Steph’s catalogues—”all those sex toys you have are going to waste.”
She flopped her head back onto the headrest dramatically. “Tell me about it. Oh, how was the gyrating egg I gave you?”
“I haven’t tried it yet. I might have to tonight, though. My sexual frustration levels have hit an all-time high.”
Steph laughed as I chuckled to myself. “Get fucking Alex, then.” She slapped my knee playfully and wiggled her eyebrows.
I stared at her