The Art of Keeping Faith by Anna Bloom Read Free Book Online

am. There’s no chance I will be enjoying a night on the floor any time soon.”
    “Well that , Delilah, I cannot wait to see.”
    Ben chuckles again which makes me even more determined to prove that I can do it.
    I, Lilah McCannon, can go out for the night without getting completely shitfaced and injuring myself or someone else.
    6th October
    7.30 a.m.
    Oh, my God, my head.
    8.20 a.m.
    Shitting hell.
    9.30 a.m.
    “Delilah? Delilah? Are you alive?”
    “No.”
    “We have to be at your mum’s at midday.”
    “Go away.”
    “I love you, too.”
    10.45 a.m.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “What for, Delilah?” Ben’s voice, while still sleepy, is teasing and damn sexy.
    “Calling you.”
    “Not for attacking me and demanding we have sex?”
    “Did we?”
    “You don’t remember?”
    I sneak a peek under the duvet. I am naked but that could mean anything. I cannot recall a single moment from when we got into the Fez Club. My last clear recollection is that it was my idea to go to the Fez Club—shit.
    “Was it good?” I ask.
    “It’s always good.”
    I have one eye open through which I can see Ben. He is naked with a sleepy smirk on his face and looking mighty fine. Unfortunately, my personal locomotive is back in my head and my ability to take advantage of the naked situation is severely limited.
    “I think I am too old for this,” I sigh, managing to maneuver myself over to him so I can rest my head on his chest.
    “No! Never. What are you talking about? You’re only twenty-six.”
    “So are you. But you manage not to lose most of your evenings due to extreme alcohol induced memory loss.”
    “That’s because I can handle my booze, unlike your fine lightweight self.” He smiles a slow sexy smile and kisses the top of my head.
    “Do you think I’m ever going to grow-up?”
    “Yeah, one day. Possibly when you’re sixty and wrinkly.”
    “Uh, you won’t fancy me then.”
    He chuckles and kisses me, his arms winding tight around my waist. “Lilah, I will always fancy you.”
    “Shit, Ben. Move quick. I’m going to be sick.”
    I manage to make it to the bathroom before I throw up half of my stomach lining.
    God. I am so classy.
    “Yep, always going to fancy you.” He smirks as I make the walk of shame back into the room.
    ”I think I might need to try harder at growing up,” I tell him when my brain has stopped bashing around in my skull.
    He doesn’t respond. He just chuckles and pulls me in for a snuggle.
    10.00 p.m.
    Okay, it might take more than one day to achieve my goal. Especially a day like today. I am blaming my mum; she drove me to it.
    Lunch at Chez McCannon was planned for noon. My head stopped pounding at around eleven forty-five, but maintained a steady niggle. This was a bad start.
    Tristan had to pull the car over six times down the A3 so Meredith could decorate the hedgerow with her sick. This practically sent me over the edge but I managed to maturely restrain myself and instead I just turned up green. To make matters worse, Tristan drove at eighty miles an hour the whole way because he had the arse, and was trying to blame me for Meredith getting so wasted. Rubbish.
    I then got well and truly Mum’d.
    She was on fire and I only survived her barrage of insults by drinking a bottle of gin. Yes, a whole bottle. This is why I am going to restart my growing-up effort tomorrow!
    Mum’s Insult List:
    “You’re late. Delilah, what on earth have you done to poor Meredith?”
    “Delilah, have you given up exercising completely?”
    “So the University decided to take you back after your rather lacklustre results?”
    “I must say, Dharling, I am surprised Ben has not proposed since he has been back from the States.”
    “Do you really need that extra potato, Dharling? You are looking a little tubby around the middle.”
    “Dharling, did Daddy tell you the good news? John has proposed to his girlfriend and is getting married in April. He has invited us to the wedding, it’s going to