Together Apart by Natalie K Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

was a crazy start to one of the best weeks of his life.
    ‘Remember the guy who worked in that bar? What was his name again?’ He paid for the shots and handed one to Jenny.
    Jenny frowned. ‘Which guy?’
    ‘You know – the one with the moustache and the gapped teeth.’ They downed their shots, and he shook his head, grimacing. Why did he order sambuca? He didn’t even like it.
    ‘Ah.’ Jenny licked her thumb. ‘Christos.’
    ‘That’s right, Christos. He was a total legend. Those cocktails . . .’ He pictured the blend of eight different spirits that Christos had served them in tall glasses with mini cocktail umbrellas. That was the night Jenny had got sick.
    ‘Yeah.’ Jenny pulled a face. ‘ Those cocktails. Ugh.’
    ‘I’m surprised you can even remember his name, you were so pissed.’
    ‘How could I ever forget, with that moustache?’
    ‘It was an epic ’tache, though; I’ll give him that.’ He looked at Jenny smiling at him. ‘What?’
    She shook her head. ‘Nothing. It’s just nice to see you smiling again, that’s all.’
    ‘Yeah, well. It’s been a good night, so far.’
    And it had. Now, all he needed to do was pull, and it would be mission complete.

    A trail of lilies etched along Tamsin’s spine moved as she danced. Adam had approached her at the bar, and compared to the other women in their short dresses and high heels, she’d looked understatedly sexy in a backless top and skinny jeans. Since then, he’d thought of little else than tracing his finger along the lilies curling their way down from the nape of her neck to the waistband of her jeans.
    She was a phenomenal dancer. She really seemed to feel the music, moving her body in a way that filled his head with images of what he hoped would be on the cards later. He put his hands on her hips, and she backed into him, reaching her arms over her head to weave her fingers through his hair as the bass reverberated in the humid air around them. With the dance classics the DJ was churning out and the sweaty bodies thrashing on the dance floor, he almost felt like he was back in Ibiza. He’d worked a season there after university and nearly every night was full of debauchery – booze, girls and drugs. It felt like yesterday.
    As Tamsin swayed her hips, he kissed the side of her neck, slipped his hands under the soft material of her top and ran his hands up her sides, letting his thumbs brush the sides of her breasts. It was time to go.
    He put his lips to her ear. ‘Where do you live?’
    ‘Croydon. You?’
    ‘Finchley.’
    She turned around, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his lips. ‘So, let’s go back to yours.’
    He was about to nod until the image of Sarah popped up in his head. He blinked it away. ‘Can’t. My sister’s staying with me.’
    Did he really just refer to Sarah as his sister? Christ, that was a bit low. But then, he didn’t really want to say he was living with his ex-girlfriend. Talk about complicated.
    ‘My place it is, then,’ Tamsin replied.

    5 October, 4.50 a.m.
     
    There’s no point pretending to sleep anymore. Adam still hasn’t come home. I went into his room after he left. It smelled of his Hugo Boss aftershave, and there were pairs of jeans on the bed. I bet he’s wearing his faded Diesels, the ones that hang on him just right. It’s obvious he went out to pull, and judging by the fact that he hasn’t come home yet, he’s clearly been successful.
    The thought of him in the arms of someone else makes me feel sick. I don’t want some random girl to touch the smattering of freckles across his shoulders or the bit on the back of his neck that makes him shudder with pleasure. I don’t want anyone else to kiss the chickenpox scar on his rib like I did. And I know how much of a selfish cow that makes me sound, but it’s how I feel. I even thought about texting him. Half because I wanted to check that he was alright, and half because I thought that if he saw a text from me,