I managed to wait until lunchtime the next day to text the Adonis. After drafting then redrafting and sending it to Ella for approval, I finally sent him a message saying it was a shame about the football score but not a wasted trip to the pub after all…

A little later the Adonis replied, “Likewise Jess, the best thing to happen last night. I just ended up going home and watching Love Island! Do you have much planned this weekend?” Thank God he replied.

I waited a respectable one hour before I responded. I made a light-hearted joke about listening to the Love Island podcast every morning (which I did) and told him my plans to go out for my brother’s birthday. I then asked him what he had planned.

Five hours later, no reply. He’s probably really busy, Jess. The next morning, still no reply. Hmm…just give it until the afternoon. It got to Friday evening and I had resigned myself that he wasn’t going to reply. Oh well. I was still proud of myself for actually going up to him and asking for his number. That had felt really good, empowering actually – must do that more often, I thought. Fuck it, and I quickly typed him a message before I could change my mind. Any other guy and I would never have done this, but y’know…the Adonis.

“Podcast confession killed it?” I joked, completely ignoring the unspoken WhatsApp rule of never double texting. If he ignored this one, then I’d make my peace with it and just be glad that I had tried. 

Barely a minute passed, when the Adonis replied apologising for his late response, explaining that he had been running around like a mad man and asking what I was up to that evening? Yasssss. I quickly responded and asked what his plans were…?

Three hours later, no reply.  

“At least you tried, babe,” said Ella as we lounged on the sofa and she scrolled through his Instagram profile, “I still think it’s pretty cool that you even went up to him.” I nodded in agreement. I resolved that I wouldn’t text the Adonis again, that I’d just be happy that I’d taken my first step towards engaging with men again. 

“Yup, you’re right…still…the things I would do to this,” I sighed, looking over her shoulder and pointing at a half-naked photo of the Adonis.

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur. I spent the Saturday at Hampstead Heath ponds swimming with friends followed by a boozy night out in Bermondsey for my brother’s birthday. It was the Sunday evening and I was lounging on the sofa in pyjamas, no makeup on and my hair scraped back high in a ponytail, nursing the last remnants of a hangover. It was almost 10pm and coming to end of Love Island, which I had been watching with Ella and her boyfriend, Stan, when my phone bleeped with a text message. 

I leaned across the coffee table and the Adonis’ message flashed up on the screen. No way?! He asked if I was at the pub. Nope, I’m at home in my Minion pyjamas.

“Fuck, guys, what do I do?!?” I asked Ella and Stan. Stan shrugged and said I should go to the pub. “Don’t be stupid, she can’t just rock up to the pub at 10pm on a Sunday night on her own, an hour before it closes – it just looks desperate!” exclaimed Ella. She was right. “Just text him saying that you’re around the corner at yours chilling – and make it really obvious how close you are” she continued. I nodded in agreement and quickly replied saying just as much. Sent.

Half hour later and the Adonis still haven’t read my message. I felt on edge, not knowing whether or not to put proper clothes and makeup on. I flapped around the kitchen, aimlessly tidying up and waiting for a reply. Ella and Stan had gone to bed but not before Ella had given me a bottle of wine to put in the fridge. Y’know, just in case. 

11pm and still no reply. Bloody hell Jess, he’s not going to respond, it’s getting late and you have work tomorrow, just go to bed! Accepting defeat, I headed upstairs.

It had had gone 11.15pm and I was lying in bed reading when my phone flashed up next to me. I diverted my eyes to the screen to see the Adonis’ name. My stomach flipped. I quickly picked up my phone and swiped open WhatsApp.

“You still awake?” read the message. 

I’m not messing around anymore, I thought and promptly replied, “Yes, where are you?”

“Shall I come to yours?”

“Yes, you should,” I typed, and I shared my location.

“Ok, I’ll be 2 minutes”

Fuck.

Instant panic set in and I leapt out of bed and stared at my reflection in the bedroom mirror. Fucckkkkkkkk. The pub was a stone’s throw away; he really would only be two minutes. There was no time to put any makeup on. Ok, ok what are the necessities here?!  I pulled out my ponytail and spritzed my hair with dry shampoo, yanked my Minion pyjamas off and started rummaging through my underwear drawer. Why do I not own anything remotely sexy?? Giving up, I grabbed a fitted jersey dress instead and pulled it on over my head. 

Ok, only another 30 seconds until he’d arrive. Then something occurred to me. Horror-struck, I looked down… shit. I promptly grabbed a razor and ran to the bathroom sink with barely 20 seconds left to spare. It’s a wonder I didn’t do any serious lasting damage.

My phone bleeped again. He was outside. Fuck.

I took a deep breath and opened the front door. The Adonis stood on the door step smiling sheepishly. I greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and showed him upstairs into the flat, apologising for my lack of makeup as I went. I mentally slapped myself. No, Jess, don’t apologise for not wearing makeup. The Adonis waved away my apology saying I looked gorgeous and I instantly felt at ease.

The Adonis settled down on the sofa, looking up at me. I went and sat next to him and asked what he’d been up to that evening. He said that he had been at a private concert in North London but had come back to South West as his friend lived here. They had decided to go to the pub down the road but chose to leave after 45 minutes as most people were 10 hours into their Sunday session. Which brought him to my doorstep. 

We continued to chat about what we’d both been up to over the weekend when he paused and looked deep in thought. “Everything ok?” I asked. The Adonis looked up under his eyelashes and his eyes held mine. My heart skipped a beat. “Yes… I was just thinking that I’d really like to kiss you,” he softly said. I gulped. “Would that be ok?” he asked. Um, abso-fucking-lutley! 

No sooner did I nod my consent then the Adonis launched across the sofa on top of me, sending my head back over the armrest, one hand gripped behind my neck, the other holding the arch of my back. Adrenaline coursed through my body like an electrical current. Omg it’s happening, it’s really happening was all I could think as he kissed me, running his hands through my hair then down the length of my body and under my dress. 

A couple of minutes passed, and I lent up, breaking away to catch my breath. The Adonis lent in to go again but I was suddenly aware of our huge living room window which looked out on to the street. We didn’t have curtains. “Maybe we should go upstairs,” I said. The neighbours most definitely did not need to see this.

The Adonis followed me up the stairs, all the while kissing my neck and pulling on the hem of my dress. I giggled as he pushed me down on my unmade bed. Of course, I had stripped the bedding earlier that evening to wash and hadn’t gotten around to putting on fresh sheets. Sod’s Law really; something will only ever happen when you’re least prepared. This would never happen if I had blow-dried hair, makeup on, fresh sheets and a waxed vagina. Obviously.

The Adonis stripped off and stood naked in front of me. My jaw hit the ground in true cartoon character fashion. Wow. I mean my previous boyfriends had all been in pretty good shape, but this man was literally perfect. Everything was perfect. I gulped. I’d never usually been shy around guys when it came to sex but all a sudden, I felt very self-conscious about getting naked. This guy had dated models for fuck’s sake. I paused for a moment, having an inner conflict of interest. Hang on Jess, it was his decision to message you and come to your flat, he had come to you. Sure as hell you are not going to not have sex with this man! Fuck it. So I stripped off too.

Afterwards, we lay next to each other completely spent. It was the hottest night of the year and our bodies glistened with sweat. My heart was racing, and my head was reeling with what had just happened. Wow. The Adonis sure knew what he was doing and had been very complimentary, making me feel like the sexiest woman alive.

We caught our breaths and chatted. Every now and again he’d sing aloud random lyrics making me laugh. The Adonis asked if he should go or whether he could stay the night. “No worries, you’re welcome to stay,” I replied. Forever I thought, before mentally slapping myself to get a grip. 

The Adonis went downstairs to get us both water as I haphazardly threw on some bedding. It had gone 1am, we were wrapped up together in a sheet and quietly chatted until his breathing slowed and he eventually fell asleep. I laid on his bronzed chest, trying to process what had just happened.

The bright July sun poured through my broken blind waking me up at 6am. My mind instantly replayed the five hours before and I turned slowly to see the Adonis laying next to me still asleep. It wasn’t a dream. I turned to look at my phone. Ella had already texted me: “OMG!!! Stan got up to go to the gym and he said that there are men’s trainers in the living room! Tell me he’s here?!” it read. 

I grinned and I replied that yes, he was indeed here and that I would fill her in later. I turned back to the Adonis who was beginning to stir. He scooped his arms around me and whispered, “Morning gorgeous,” sleepily. I smiled and said I was going to get up and shower. He replied, saying that he was going to snooze for a bit longer while I got ready and would leave when I was ready for work. I detangled myself from the sheet and the Adonis reached out and stroked his hand down the length of my lower back as I edged out of bed. I swooned inside.

After I’d showered, the Adonis woke up and got dressed then sat on the end of the bed watching me as I put my makeup on. Every couple minutes I caught his eye in the mirror and we’d smile sheepishly at each other. 

We left the flat together holding hands as we walked down the street until we were outside a coffee shop. The Adonis lifted his sunglasses on to his head and fixed me with his dark brown eyes before swooping down to kiss me, pressing me into his chest. We broke away and thanked each other for a lovely night, and with that, he walked into the coffee shop, whilst I headed down the street – a very prominent extra bounce in my step.

The sun was shining, and I floated to work on cloud nine, what a beautiful Monday morning it was. I was five minutes from arriving at work when my phone bleeped with a message from the Adonis: “Thank you for a lovely night Jess xx” it read. 

I grinned. After four months of abstinence I finally felt sexy and desired again. My night with this man had helped given me back my self-confidence, which had been gradually chipped away at during my relationship with Dennis. Despite the handful of messages we exchanged since that morning, I knew that my one night encounter with the Adonis was only ever going to be just that. And I didn’t need any more than that. It had been a good night. It had been a good week. I was starting to feel like me again, I’d finally got my mojo back!

Summer 2018. It was the beginning of July, and Dennis and his friends (including a few of our mutual mates) were due to fly out to Ibiza for a week long piss up of sun, sea and extreme hedonism. Did I want to see those photos? Did I fuck. Despite liking most of them I unfollowed all of Dennis’ friends, and then deactivated my Instagram for good measure. I prepared myself to feel shitty for the whole week whilst they were there. I’d finally got my money back for the holiday, so I knew I just had to get through the next week and then it would all be over. There would be no ties left and I could finally move on.

For the first couple of days I decided to get out of London and went and stayed in my aunt’s caravan at the seaside for the weekend. It was bliss – sunshine, fresh air and a distraction from Ibiza – just what I needed. I surprised myself with how relaxed I felt. I immersed myself in dog walks on the beach, fish and chips and even enjoyed watching the World Cup quarter-final on the little caravan television. I returned to London on the Sunday evening feeling refreshed. 

My flatmate Ella, who had been an absolute rock for me through the last four months, sensed the shift in my mood. “I think you’re ready for the next phase!” she excitedly proclaimed. She suggested we go out to our local pub to watch the World Cup semi-final. In Ella’s eyes, the next phase was ‘getting mortal drunk and shagging random men’ – something I knew she had been patiently (yet eagerly) waiting for me to get to as it meant I would have graduated from the ‘random sobbing followed by bursts of rage’ phase. I was sceptical. I’d spent the last four months steering well clear of anything with a penis and with a self-imposed drinking ban (a decision made on recent experiences that highlighted all too well that alcohol and heartbreak do NOT mix). 

Nonetheless I didn’t want to burst Ella’s bubble. So, on the Wednesday afternoon, I part walked, part ran from work, arriving back at our flat sweaty but determined to have an enjoyable evening.

The pub was a social hotspot in the summer for the residents of South-West London. Infamously known for its ‘Sunday sessions’; attracting the local rugby players and about a hundred almost identical home county-raised blondes in tow. A breeding ground for summer hook-ups and pretty much guaranteed to bump into an ex or previous conquest. The heat wave and World Cup euphoria had attracted every man and his dog, and the beer garden was rammed with TV screens and punters. Ella and I grabbed a couple of G&Ts and, after much elbowing, finally managed to squeeze ourselves into a little spot outside. The atmosphere was contagious and, even though I wasn’t usually much of a football fan, I felt giddy with anticipation.

Half time hit and the beer garden exploded into cheers and chanting; England had managed to score a goal. I laughed at all the drunken idiots attempting and failing to start a crowd singalong. Taking advantage of my obvious good mood, Ella suggested playing a game. “I’ve only ever known you with Dennis, so I want to try and figure out your type!” she exclaimed, and promptly started pointing out random men around the beer garden. “What about him?” I shrugged, unimpressed. “Him?” I shook my head. “Him?” I pulled a face. “You’re SO fussy, Jess!” she laughed. She paused, eyes darting around the crowd. “Ok…what about him?” I looked over to where her eyes were fixed wide in question, a cheeky grin on her face. 

I blinked. Wow. This man was gorgeous – I mean insanely hot! If I had to draw ‘my type’ on paper it would be this guy’s portrait. Tall, broad shouldered, dark hair and eyes and a Hollywood smile to match, this demi god could only be described as an Adonis. I swallowed, watching him walk over to the bar, the muscles in his back subtly rippling under his t-shirt as he bent forward to talk to the barman. “Yup, that’s my type alright” I murmured. Ella smirked, clearly happy with herself.

The match started again, and Ella resumed pointing out random men. I nodded my semi approval every now and again, but most of my attention was focussed on searching for where the Adonis had gone amongst the crowd. Ella seemed disheartened by my minimal enthusiasm for potential suitors. “Sorry”, I shrugged, “I just don’t see the point if I’ve already seen my ideal man here in the flesh – maybe I should go and say hi…?” Ella looked taken back. I raised my eyebrows questioning her reaction, “What?” I said.

“Erm…nothing…I mean, you do know who he is, right?” she whispered. 

“Um, no, should I?” I said. 

Ella got out her phone and flicked open Instagram. She searched a profile with the Adonis’ beautiful face plastered across every post. 

“Jess, he used to play professional Rugby, he was on a talent show and I’m pretty sure he used to date a famous model,” she said, letting me scroll through his pictures. Yep, it was him. I’d never heard of him before, but it was definitely him gracing the front covers of Men’s Health and GQ, posing with shaving products with the hashtag #Ad. 

I mean it shouldn’t change anything I thought to myself. If Ella hadn’t told me I would just assume he was just any other guy (albeit an exceptionally attractive guy) who’d gone to the pub to watch the World Cup semi-final. Just because Ella (and his 90,000 followers) may know who he was, didn’t mean I couldn’t approach him and say hi… What was the worst that could happen? He could politely decline…or laugh in your face, Jess, but surely, I couldn’t feel any more shit about myself than I had done for the last four months? Besides, there was only one thing worse than regretting doing something… and that was regretting not doing something.

“Do you know if he has a girlfriend?” I asked Ella. She slowly shook her head and answered “No, I don’t think he does.” 

“Good. I’m going to go ask him for his number,” I resolved, downing the rest of my G&T.

Ella and I located the Adonis in the corner of the beer garden, quietly tucked away in a corner on a step, surrounded by a couple friends. We ‘casually’ edged towards him, pretending to be deep in conversation and not aware that we were moving (or rather battling against the crowd) to get in close enough proximity. I felt silly, like a 13-year-old schoolgirl trying to inconspicuously spy on her crush. Goddamit Jess, you’re a 29-year-old woman! I thought to myself, get a grip and just go up to him.

“Right, I’m going to do it now,” I said. Ella nervously nodded and ran off to the bar leaving me on my own; about to take one small step for Jess and one giant leap for womankind. Sort of.

What happened next was kind of a blur, I think it happened so quickly so that I hadn’t time to overthink it and chicken out. I turned and walked over to the small group of friends surrounding the Adonis. I reached up and tapped one on the shoulder, who swiftly turned and raised his eyebrows up at me in question. I blushed and mumbled something about just wanting to say hi to his mate. The friend nodded and silently moved aside, the rest of the group followed suit, and all turned to watch the screen leaving just the Adonis in the corner looking at me quizzically.

I thrust out a hand in greeting; blurting out “So sorry, I saw you from across the beer garden and I thought you were really attractive, and I wanted to ask you for your number. I’m Jess by the way!” Smooth, Jess. The Adonis blinked clearly absorbing my sudden appearance and outburst and then after what seemed like an agonising 10 seconds, he finally cracked a smile, shook my outstretched hand and introduced himself in return. Thank fuck for that.

“Sure… I’d take your number, but my phone has run out of battery,” he said taking his phone out of his pocket and jabbing the blank screen; showing me that it wouldn’t switch on. Ah, of course. “But I can put my number in your phone,” he said smiling at me. I passed him my mobile, trying to keep a steady hand and the Adonis typed in his name and number (confirming Ella was right). I honestly thought that would be it, I would thank him for his time, apologise for disturbing the football and quickly excuse myself. I turned to leave but the Adonis started asking why I was so tanned and if I’d been on holiday recently. I told him I’d just got back from my sister’s hen do in Mykonos and asked if he had any holidays planned. As we chatted about holidays, our heritages, where we lived, our ages and even Love Island, I was amazed at how attracted I was to this man. I mean he was obviously gorgeous, but for the last four months I hadn’t even entertained the thought of another man touching me; not desiring anyone and feeling undesirable in return. But as I flirted with the Adonis, I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, my mouth go dry and my stomach flutter with nerves. God, I really fancied this guy.

After what could have only been 15 minutes of chat, I made my excuses saying that I should really find my friend as I’d left her alone at the bar. In reality, my mouth had become so dry I had become progressively more aware of my tongue and the fact I’d been holding an empty cup the whole time. It was a miracle I hadn’t said anything stupid yet and felt it safer to leave on a high. The Adonis asked me to come and say hi again after the game had finished if I was still around. I nodded, smiling and kissed him goodbye on the cheek before floating (elbowing) my way back through the crowd to find Ella.

No sooner had I made it to the other end of the beer garden, then Ella grabbed me from around the corner and pulled me to the other side of the bar. “So?! What happened?! Did you get his number?! I got a drink and had a cigarette and you were still chatting to him!” she exclaimed, excitedly.

“Shhh…yes I got his number,” I grinned back at her. “But, first thing’s first – I need water…and some kind of anti-perspirant.” Ella grabbed my hand and marched me to the toilets where she pulled out deodorant from her handbag and passed me a glass of tap water. I briefly filled her in on my conversation with the Adonis as I blotted my face and regained proper use of my tongue again. “Perfect, so we’ll play it cool and watch the rest of the match inside then we’ll casually head back over to him when we’ve lost.” Ella said. I looked over at the screen. Ah yes, some of us were indeed losing that night.

England did lose. And as the match finished and the drunkards started to curse, Ella and I made our way back out to the beer garden. It was 10pm and the place was still heaving. We pushed our way through the crowd until I caught a glimpse of the Adonis near his corner deep in conversation with a group of guys. “Hmm, he looks busy, let’s just hang back here for a bit,” I said to Ella turning away from him. Ella shrugged and we continued chatting. After about five minutes Ella abruptly stopped talking and stared over my shoulder. “He’s coming over,” she whispered excitedly.

No sooner had I registered what she said then the Adonis swooped in next to me and shook Ella’s hand in greeting. She blushed and mumbled hello in return. The Adonis turned and looked down at me smiling. God, his eyes were dreamy.

“I have to pop around the corner to my mate’s house to charge my phone, but will you still be here a bit later?” he asked me. I smiled back and said I wasn’t sure as it was getting late and I had work in the morning. He nodded. “Of course, well it was lovely to meet you and you have my number?” he asked, then cheekily added, “Are you glad you came up to me?” I grinned shyly and said I was, kissing him goodbye on the cheek. 

I watched the Adonis walk out of the beer garden and turned to Ella, “Can we go back home now, I really don’t think I can handle any more excitement tonight?” Ella laughed and agreed. We left the pub and headed back home, and I made a mental note to wait until the next day to message him.

To be continued…