“Guess who’s coming to New Year’s? Guess who asked if you were!”
Excited sms from Kate. Can only be Cute Guy. She’s so funny, totally riding matchmaker high despite having done no actual matchmaking.
True, met him at her place. Popped in for coffee and catch up. Cute Guy arrived to see Jack who wasn’t yet home, Kate invited him to wait. And promptly opened a bottle of wine. Moment she claims her matchmaking kicked in, “No one sparks over cold coffee!”
By the time Jack arrived, we’d opened a second bottle and ordered pizza. Awesome evening, Cute Guy’s super funny - and he gave me his card. I haven’t called. Lots of boring insecurities. Quite keen to see him at NY though. In my new, kick ass boots.
New Year’s Eve – 11pm
Have been caught fondling own bum in loo.
Sink against back of door and contemplate boots. Fucking A. Check out reflection, still good. Right. So if I hadn’t just felt up my own ass to check what Cute Guy felt when he did it a minute ago, I’d be good to go. Sudden rush of blood to my cheeks. Cannot believe squeezed own butt.
What was I thinking?!
Was all good. Chatting to Tommy, happily vibey and champagne flirty, Cute Guy arrives, sneaks up behind me and whispers something cheeky, lightly pinches my ass, I laugh, catch Kate’s grin - she saw that - No wait. Back up. Pinched ass. Sudden flurry of words in head:
Oh that’s not good, that can’t be good. How did it feel? Obviously soft. Okay. Bearable. Oh please just not flabby - thank god I wore jeans!
I should pinch it. That’s ridiculous. But then I’ll know…
Quick duck to bathroom, Random Oke walks in, am poised with hand above ass. Nice one.
Screw it. Splash water on sanity and leave bathroom. Resolve to chat up Cute Guy and wipe out ridiculous insecurity attack with more champagne. Sealed with a New Year’s kiss.