Until I Met You

By: Jaimie Roberts

chapter 1

“Angelina… Angelina!”

Oh boy, please, just give me some peace.

“Angelina!” my mother bellowed again. “Come on, you need to get ready. It’s already ten-thirty.”

“I’m up, Mum, just getting ready now.” It was a lie of course, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Angelina Bradshaw, if you don’t get your arse up right now and get ready, I will personally drag you out of bed myself!”

“I’m up!” I shouted angrily. Gosh, you would think the Battle of fucking Hastings was about to go down, instead of my little sister’s wedding. I say little as I am reminded that every five minutes considering I’m now twenty-six and should be married myself. I personally thought we were living in the twenty-first century, but obviously not when it comes to my family.

Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I was about to get out of bed when the aforementioned little sister, Julia, skipped into my old room.

“Eek,” she squealed excitedly. “Can you believe it, Angelina? I’m getting married today… fucking married!”

“I know,” I said groggily. “It’s your big day.”

“Oh, don’t be sad. It will be your turn one day. Maybe you’ll meet the man of your dreams in London. If not, there’s always Brian.”

I shook my head feeling a little annoyed. I didn’t see why at the age of only twenty-six, I should be married, barefoot and pregnant. I have always been different as far as that’s concerned. I wanted to work, and any fun time I had, was just that. Brian was my “go to” guy. If I felt horny, I’d go to him for help. He wasn’t the best sex in the world, but he always manages to bring me to an orgasm. Even if it wasn’t through sex, he would make sure I was taken care of. He’s a nice guy and we’ve known each other since school, but he’s not commitment material—even though he says he wants to be.

It all really doesn’t matter now though, as I’m moving to London after today is through. Tomorrow I’m going to pack my bags, leave Cornwall and set sail for the big city. My dad’s friend owns an estate agency in Chelsea, and asked if I would like to move into the flat above the shop. He also asked if I could virtually run the place when he wasn’t around. I jumped at the opportunity. It kind of helps that my dad’s friend is hot—even if we both know nothing can happen between us. The only problem being is… that it very nearly did once.

My dad, Clive, had a big fiftieth birthday bash last year and Jonathan came to the celebrations. I hadn’t seen him in five years and his age had done everything to improve the way he looked. He is tall with light brown eyes and silver hair. He looked like a sexy George Clooney in his forties—definitely fuckable material.

To cut a long story short, we celebrated, Jonathan and I flirted, and we very nearly ended up calling it a night in his hotel. I bailed though. He is my dad’s friend after all and I didn’t want to over-complicate things. It was very hard to resist, but Jonathan more than understood. He even said we did the right thing in the end. My dad’s been friends with the guy ever since he sold him the house I’m currently staying in now.

My only concern—which I raised—was our little indiscretion. Or shall I say, almost indiscretion. Jonathan put my mind at ease straight away and said that we needed to put that in the past and get on with life. He never mixes business with pleasure; it has always been his number one motto. With that in mind there was only one answer.

I gave my job—and place I was renting—one month notice and moved back in with my parents once I quit. I’ve been staying here for just over a week now and it’s doing my head in! I’m so glad I’ll be finally off tomorrow.

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