All the Single Ladies Read Free Page B

heart-stopping smile, he was too good-looking for me. I was punching above my weight and I knew it.
    Yet I wanted him so badly it made my head spin.
    He was well-travelled and well-read, intellectual and thoughtful. He talked about books by John Fante and Bukowski (no, I’d never heard of them either) and had a CV of exotic jobs ranging
from tour guide in Borneo to jobbing guitarist in Sydney.
    But with that Liverpool lilt betraying the fact that we’d grown up less than ten miles from each other, his dazzling experiences weren’t intimidating. He and I shared a history and
sense of humour that created an instant connection.
    ‘Isn’t it difficult constantly moving round? Maintaining friendships must be hard,’ I said, pushing my feet into the warm sand and feeling it run through my toes.
    ‘I make new friends. You get used to it,’ he shrugged, letting a handful of sand slide through his fingers. ‘Though I must admit . . .’
    ‘What?’ I asked, sensing his hesitation.
    ‘I miss having a girlfriend.’ He looked into my eyes and smirked. ‘It’s been . . . a while.’
    I raised an eyebrow. He laughed. ‘Oh I don’t mean sex – I’ve not struggled with that . . .’ Then he widened his eyes. ‘Oh God! That came out wrong!’
    It was the first sign of self-consciousness I’d detected.
    ‘What I mean is –’ he took a gulp of beer – ‘I’m not saying I’ve been an angel . . . but sleeping around holds no interest for me. I want intimacy with
someone on every level.’
    I sipped my beer. ‘Good for you.’
    ‘Does that surprise you? Given that I’m bumming my way around the world, I mean. The thing is, there’s a big part of me that wants to find someone to spend, well, forever
with.’
    I peeled off the label from my beer bottle. ‘Forever’s a long time. And that might be tricky given that you are, as you say, bumming your way around the world. Maybe you can’t
really decide what you want in life.’ I flashed him a challenging grin and he laughed.
    ‘Oh I know what I want. I have a list.’
    ‘A list?’ I laughed. ‘What’s on it?’
    ‘Let’s see . . . adventure. Love. Happiness. Fun . . .’ His eyes twinkled as he was unable to suppress a smile. ‘Lust.’
    We both giggled. He’d moved closer to me, so close I could feel his breath on my face.
    ‘That’s a great list,’ I whispered, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.
    ‘It is, isn’t it?’ he replied as his lips melted into mine.
    The girls and I were supposed to be staying on Choeng Mon beach for only a few days. But, for one reason or another, we stayed two weeks. What I really mean by one reason or
another is Jamie. He was the reason. And my friends, loyal and lovely as ever, indulged the holiday romance they could see developing. Even if it did involve remaining in the ‘luxury beach
hut’ whose shower facilities consisted of a tap that intermittently vomited dirty water and more wildlife than a David Attenborough box set.
    Jamie and I couldn’t stay away from each other. It was one of those intense relationships that felt like a drug addiction. When we were apart, all I could think about was my next hit. When
we were together, the pleasure was so sweet it made me glow.
    I told him every day of the last week on Choeng Mon that it would be my last. I had to move on. My friends were getting restless and I owed it to them to continue with the trip. Yet the thought
of leaving him was unbearable.
    On the day we were due to sail back to mainland Thailand, I felt like I was being ripped in two. We’d exchanged numbers; we’d promised we’d email; we’d agreed that, if he
ever came back to the UK, we’d go for a drink. A drink. It sounded so small and unsatisfactory compared with the explosion of emotion I’d experienced in the last fifteen days.
    ‘Come on, gorgeous – I’m sure your paths will cross again,’ Ellie said, as we loaded our backpacks onto the taxi and climbed on. It was one of those