Faultless

"Mike & I were at that sports bar last week..."

"Mike & I were at a pub quiz and..."

"Mike made me have one of those greasy burgers the other day..."

"Mike got that job, congrats by the way, and I'm so happy for him..."

They both took it in turns with over-exaggerated impressions of Lily. At that point I blushed profusely. That sure sounded bad, but it was all very innocent. I thought honesty was the best policy right then, so I went with it.

"You've got it wrong," I said with a chuckle. "Many years ago, sure, there was a completely one-sided attraction, as you might imagine. But it's very, very platonic now. In fact, when she gets here, we can ask her about the date she had yesterday."

I could tell from the shock on their faces that it was new information, for they gave up trying to pin down my feelings towards Lily and instead speculated on why Lily hadn't mentioned it.

When Lily arrived with Char in tow, late and flustered, she found two pairs of suspicious eyes on her as well as one guilty pair. "Sorry Lils," I said at once, before they could get started.

"Who was he?"

"Why didn't we know about it?"

"I'm going to get you back for this," Lily warned, grabbing the wine bottle after giving me a death stare.

"That kind of day, huh?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Uh uh," Amy pressed, "No blaming the stud for exposing your secrets and no distracting us from the topic at hand," she finished with a look at me.

"Who is it?" Olivia asked.

Lily groaned. "I didn't wanna say anything as its early days. It's Benjamin Evans."

I didn't know who 'Benjamin Evans' was but evidently Amy, Char and Olivia did, for the former gripped the latter's arm and both took a long drink of wine. Char let out a low whistle.

"Congratulations?" I offered, as Lily sat awkwardly.

"No no Junior, that doesn't cut it," I noted the name change. "This is Benjamin Evans, elite-level husband-material," Amy rushed out. Char looked at me apologetically and shrugged in agreement.

Over the following minutes, I was treated to an account of Oxford-educated Benjamin, who by all accounts, seemed to be smart, ambitious, rich and kind. I could already see the wedding bells and I was happy for Lily. She'd never outright said it, but this was what she wanted from her life.

"It's early days," she kept reminding us.

While they continued with their excitable gossiping, I went and got another round. When I returned, the topic was working its way out of steam, even more so once Lily promised to keep 'us all' updated.

"You're a smoker, right?" Olivia asked when I returned.

I shook my head, "Trying to quit."

"Lame."

We moved onto work, discovered why Lily was so late (Google had announced a new press announcement for the following week, throwing out most of her next few days of planned work), Amy and Olivia vented about their day and then I told them about my job.

"You've all made me super excited about working again," I deadpanned.

We spent all evening drinking together, bantering and taking the piss out of Lily. She gave me more rope than she gave the others when it came to teasing her about her perfect image and once or twice, Char looked over at our interactions with intrigue. I saw them all into separate taxis and then jumped into my own.

_

I helped Megan move that weekend and understood why she snorted at my offer. She hadn't even properly packed her stuff up. Organised, she was not. Lucky for her, I was regimented, organised and able to carry heavy boxes. I think I'd deafened her in the end with my constant grumblings of how disorganised she was.

Mathew though, was beyond excited as we made the multiple trips over in Meg's car, happily starting to unpack her stuff into his house. I left them at the end of the evening, full of takeout Chinese and with a warm feeling at seeing how happy they were. That night, I signed up to a dating app, wanting the same for myself.

By midweek, I forgot it existed, such was my exhaustion at 9-5 working and the commute. The job was busy and exciting, I loved every minute of it. But I was tired. I worked late on the Wednesday, breaking the tradition with Mum and Meg. But Mathew took my place, now with an open invitation to join our meals, which he sometimes did.

Over the following weeks, I settled into the job, went out with work colleagues for drinks, reminded myself I had to actually use the app if I wanted to date, and started going on them. I didn't miss another family meal and even had my Mum and Meg over to mine, where I cooked the vegetarian curry that I'd made for Lily. I moved my visits with my Gran to the weekend given how busy my job was becoming and sometimes Megan and my Mum joined me too, which was lovely. I even managed to see Dave once or twice, when he wasn't neck-deep in a court case.

I had more free time of an evening though, as Lily's relationship was really picking up. Not that I was complaining, I was happy for her, and she always made time for us to meet up, often to the pub to watch the Chelsea game or to grab a burger and fries. Whenever we spoke about how we were doing, it seemed like it was all going right for her. Still, for some inexplicable reason, I never directly asked how it was going in her relationship and Lily never offered an update. I knew it had something to do with Benjamin sounding like 'The One' and deep-down I again questioned whether I was truly over her. I pictured how I'd feel if she did indeed get married and it kept coming back to the same feeling: happiness.

***

I nodded at the security guard on the way in and a member of staff took me to the table I'd booked for the cup final. Lily was already there, she'd taken great joy in getting there before me, sending me a picture of her view of the tv screen and telling me to hurry up. I saw her as I was led over, long dark hair in a ponytail, over the back of what looked like a very familiar top, with a beer waiting for me beside her. It was a sight of dreams.

It was only such a sight that could that distract me from checking the table immediately behind Lily. Relief hit her face when she saw me and she jumped up, hugging me tightly.

"Hey," I greeted, a little surprised by her reaction but happy, nonetheless.

"Where's your top?" she asked at once pointing down to her own chest. I saw that she was indeed wearing a Chelsea top.

Just as she pointed and I looked at her, someone on the table behind us wolf-whistled. I looked over at the group, four of them. They looked like the usual football lads, already a few beers in and obnoxious for it. Lily was talking to me, trying to pull my attention back to her and I knew they must have said something before I arrived. She looked anxious when my eyes came back to her. I didn't want to make her anxiety worse; I knew how unpleasant an evening this could be for her if I didn't make it better. Before I left, my anger had given her enough of those.

I grinned at her, as though I didn't care, and I saw her relax from it. "I thought you hated Chelsea?" I genuinely asked.

She shrugged, "I never really cared, it was fun to piss you off, but you like them, and I wanted to do something nice for my friend," she finished shyly.

Were it not for the idiots behind us echoing 'friend', I might have made more of Lily's gesture, but they distracted me enough such that I could only thank her and to continue to try to ignore the table behind us. Clearly, that approach worked as they soon got bored and we were left to it, chatting about our week, how our families were doing and whether I watched much football during my 20's.

"Not much when I was in the army, but it was big once I got my job in the Middle East, especially once they got the World Cup," I commented.

"You having been in the army is still so abstract for me, it's like this thing that I can't compute. My best friend - this geeky, little kid - doing that," she admitted.

"Hey," I teased, though secretly stung by the accuracy of how she'd seen me back then, "don't forget the acne."

We both laughed, Lily looking at my beard. "Are the scars bad?"

"Not really," I said, taking her hand and putting it on my face, where she proceeded to gently feel my skin over my beard.

We were chorused by a chant of "Oi oi!" from the table behind us, making me sigh in frustration. Lily's eyes widened in a moment of panic at my reaction and then settled when nothing further came from it.

We broke contact and focused in on the game instead, now that the teams were coming out. "I need the loo," Lily whispered apologetically. "Will you be okay?"

I knew why she was asking. After I nodded and she departed, I heard them leering at her and her 'tight arse'. By that point I was gripping the table. Could I take them? 4 semi-drunk guys? Unless one of them was a boxer, it was hard to see how I couldn't with the element of surprise.

Before Lily returned and while I still had myself under a level of control, I turned back to them burning holes into their eyes in turn. In hindsight it was the wrong approach - it was escalatory but then part of me wanted it to be. "Guys, enough," I said at last, as firmly as I could. I turned back before they could respond.

They burst out laughing and Lily returned at just that moment, seemingly oblivious to the cause of the raucous. "You okay?" she asked, with some concern, glancing down at my hand on the edge of the table, which had turned white.

"Yeah, sorry," I quickly replied, letting go and hiding my hand away from Lily's eyes until she stopped following it under the table and looked at my face instead. "Just need the loo too."

I willed one of them to follow me in, just so I could put some fear in him, but it didn't happen. I cooled off, the toilets empty now the match had started. When I returned, Lily looked no less uncomfortable than when I left, though she shuffled closer to me on the bench.

Chelsea were comfortably winning into the second half, Lily had fully embraced supporting them with me and following the second goal, had proceeded to kiss my cheek in celebration. Her soft lips were still burning into my cheek, the smell of her perfume consuming my sense of smell. I zoned out of the match as Chelsea played the game out and wondered if I was feeling things for Lily afresh or that her attack on my senses had merely reminded me of times gone, when we'd watch Chelsea together as friends at university.

At the end of the match, the men behind us started up again, emboldened by yet more alcohol and shots. "Oi, hot stuff, my mate here proper fancies ya."

I felt Lily tense beside me, and I took a large swig of drink, to distract myself. Lily grabbed a passing waitress and asked for the bill. I was instantly annoyed that her evening had been ruined, that we were the ones leaving.

"Oi, don't go, he ain't had you yet!"

I stood up at that and Lily jumped up with me. "No, please Mike, no."

She wrapped both her hands around my right one and kept them there, interlocking our fingers. If I pulled it away, I'd hurt her, and she knew that. I sat back down and silently seethed. I tried to focus on my breathing and staring straight ahead at the screen.

"OOO big man!"

I couldn't cope. "Let me go Lily," I said with ice calmness. "I won't make a scene, I'll tell them to meet me outside."

"Mike, stop, it's not about you making a scene, for God's sake. You're going to get in trouble, they don't know what you can do like I do," there was frustration in her voice but also fear and it caught me. I looked over at her and she reiterated her words, worry on every inch of her face. "I don't care about a scene, I care about you. Please Mike, please just leave with me."

I calmed down enough for Lily to pay the bill and then we left. It was only when we were out of there with her hand still in mine, that I was able to recognise how good it felt. Her hand was soft and warm in mine; it fit snug. Her nails were well-manicured, with blue nail polish to match her shirt. She never got her nails done professionally and had once said she found it therapeutic to look after them herself. I liked how different that was nowadays.

She kept a firm hold of my hand and kept walking, rubbing her thumb gently over my rougher skin. She turned us into a little cocktail bar down the road that wasn't showing the football. We got to a high table and then Lily let my hand go. We both looked away somewhat awkwardly when we separated.

I picked up the cocktail menu and handed her one. We still hadn't spoken. Lily was looking at my hand like she wanted to take it again and keep me there. "I promise, I'm fine now. You're really good in a crisis," I praised.

She cleared her throat and looked away from my hand and to my face. "Thanks. I don't want this to sound condescending, but you did really well there. I know they were baiting you by the end, it wasn't even about me."

"But you shouldn't have to deal with that!" I said forcefully but quietly.

Lily didn't even blink at the firmness of my tone and the way I'd leaned forward. It told me she held no fear of me. I was relieved, in truth.

"It just happens sometimes," she shrugged. "Some men are pricks."

"Not this one, I'll always defend you Lils," I promised firmly.

She cleared her throat, "Shall we order? What do you fancy?"

"The usual," I replied with an obviously expression.

"Can you get me one as well? I need something stronger. I need the loo again."

She rushed off before I could say anything else. By the time she got back, our drinks had been made and she was walking just behind the barman. She looked flushed.

"You okay?" I asked, echoing her now.

"Yeah," she replied a little too quickly. "Fine."

A couple of cocktails later and things felt back to normal. Lily had shamelessly kept her football shirt on, even in the dark cocktail bar and nobody had asked her to cover it. We were starting to giggle and slur just a touch too much and agreed that the 3^rd cocktail would be our last, after we ordered it.

"I'm gonna be hanging tomorrow," Lily groaned. "You're a terrible influence, how'd they keep up with you back there? You must have drunk people under the table!"

I laughed. "You'd be surprised, some of the guys had tanks for a liver, I'm sure of it. But in any case, I'd much rather be here with you," I smiled over at her, genuinely meaning it. I wouldn't have expected that to be true a few months ago, but it definitely was. We'd both changed and grown together since then.

Lily stood up on unsteady legs and walked over to me. She threw her arms around me, catching me off-guard. I almost fell back off the chair! I returned her hug and inhaled the shampoo in her hair. It was all-consuming of my senses. I smelled lavender and another flower I couldn't name but recognised its subtlety. Even with the smell of alcohol around us, her scent was more intoxicating.

When she sat back down, she was looking at me in a way that I couldn't quite place. I blushed but was spared asking her what was on her mind by the arrival of the waitress with the last round of cocktails.

***

Benjamin's smile hung over her. She returned it but closed her eyes as she did so, not wishing to see it again. She'd felt flat all through their date that evening and as he laid on top of her and enjoyed her, she knew this was the reason. She was grateful to him for booking that restaurant, where it was quite expected to not be exuberant and excited, so she could hide her muted behaviour with ease.

They were officially in a relationship now and Benjamin, having been understanding of her wish not to have sex until they were officially together, had started to seek it after every date. Her sex drive was not that high and rarely had been. She remembered having sex four days in a row during the summer after university, but that was the closest she had come to wanting it 'frequently'. She always knew why she wanted it frequently at the time. Because Paul had started fucking her and not making love to her. There might even have been a 5^th day, had she not seen the texts from another woman arrive on his phone when she laid there spent afterwards.

Suddenly she knew that the words he had used, those filthy words that she'd always craved from a lover and that had aroused her like nothing had before, were not from a place of love but from a place of cockiness, of arrogance, of being a cheating bastard. It was luck and her own fear that had stopped her openly reacting to the names he called her, but she'd come close, and it was devastating enough knowing he suspected that side of her existed, as he cheated on her. So, she had shut herself off from that side, completely. No sex with a man until she was sure, quite sure, that he was sufficiently focused on her. Her therapists over the years (it was healthy to have one, she always thought, and necessary for her, for big reasons), had always asked if she felt she was being true to herself, to hide so much of herself away. Over time, the difference between what she wanted to be like out of the bedroom and be like in it, felt so stark that she couldn't imagine ever bridging it.

So now she was here, on her back with her legs parted slightly but not too much so as not to be obscene, and she felt the hot breath on her face and the increase of panting that told her he was enjoying himself and, thankfully, close to finishing. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy what was happening, it was that she felt no excitement towards it. It was obligation, not desire.

He was a good man, Benjamin. She knew that to be the case even before he asked her out. He'd caught her eye a few times with his energy and his kindness, that spoke of him being a leader, but not an ass, and the word around her network backed that up. Everything that had happened since she put out the rather deliberate hints that she fancied him, showed her initial judgements to be right. He was suitably confident and respectful, he wined & dined her, he saw to her needs and treated her like a Queen.

Why then, did she feel so flat around him? You know why, she scolded herself.

She scrunched her eyes closed tighter, trying to fight off the images. That feeling of simmering and barely contained anger, the power she felt from it and the safety she felt from it, even though she was still thinking about how close he had come to letting go and attacking that group of men who had leered at her. But he hadn't because he'd listened to her, and that made all the difference to how she felt about it.

She'd had to go and regroup in the bathroom. It was the first time she'd felt that flustered around someone; around him. She didn't like the potential violence, not at all. She wasn't even yet sure what she did like about it, though something had got to her, and she couldn't take her mind off it.

"Oh yes, babe, you like that?" Benjamin asked excitedly, mistaking her reaction as from his efforts.

"Yes," she gasped, still thinking about it and answering truly.

She thought not of the harder thrust Benjamin had just given her but instead, of him walking into her bedroom now, sensing that same anger and throwing Benjamin off her, telling her she was kidding herself and she was really his instead. She felt like she would go to her knees right there and show him she was.

But what would being his even feel like? She had tried so hard not to let her mind go there, yet again, but now she was horny and thinking of his hard cock in her mouth, it was hard not to. She couldn't even think about Benjamin right then, which was just insane and wrong on so many levels.

She instead thought of how she felt around him, how good he made her feel, how casual it was to be with him and how it mattered less, even to herself, how she looked or behaved. They just had fun, like they always did, and he liked her for her. They spoke about tough things, real things, and she always felt safe with him, not just from the behaviour of other men but from her own neurosis. She was the person she had always wanted to be, around him.