Read Online Can't Live Without by Joanne Phillips - Free Book Online

anything so romantic?’
    ‘No. I can’t say that I have,’ Paul says, sounding distinctly nonplussed.
    All that stuff I just told Paul about being happier than ever before and having no time for a man isn’t exactly true, as much as it pains me to admit it. I’d love to have a man like Bonnie’s Marcus. Not actually Marcus, you understand, but somebody like him. I wonder why I felt the need to lie to Paul. I’ve never kept anything from him before. So why do I suddenly have the urge to present a false front?
    Not that I think I convinced him for a minute.
    Paul’s reaction to Bonnie’s romantic little story was so sour I feel the need to try and make up for it. ‘Bonnie, that’s just so wonderful!’ I gush. ‘He ran you a bath? With candles and bubbles? I’d love someone to do that for me, I really would.’
    We both turn as Paul chokes violently on his latte, and as I’m the closest I reach over to thump him on the back. I only do this because I think it will help, but I guess I’ve got it confused with getting a fish bone stuck in your throat or something. The look Paul gives me says, yes, I definitely got it wrong.
    His face is red with the effort of coughing and I decide he deserves the pain – he is clearly trying to stifle yet another laugh at my expense. I’m thinking of a suitable retort when Bonnie squeals and grabs my arm.
    ‘Marcus is here!’ she says, as though she’s announcing the second coming.
    Paul and I duly turn our attention to the man weaving his way towards us. He has a small boy in tow and they noisily pull up two more chairs, scraping them across the wooden floor in a way that sets my teeth on edge.
    ‘Hey guys, what you up to?’ Marcus beams at us and then leans over to give Bonnie an affectionate kiss.
    The boy is about eight, and really is the snottiest child I have ever seen: chronic rhinitis apparently. Poor kid. He has a tissue permanently clutched in his fist and you have to watch out for the killer sneezes. They can take your toupee off.
    ‘Marcus and I are going to get Cory a birthday present today. Aren’t we, Cory?’ says Bonnie sweetly. She holds out her hand to ruffle his hair and he promptly sneezes all over it. Atta boy.
    Paul stands up suddenly. ‘I have to be going too. Nice to see you again, Marcus. Cory.’ The three lads shake hands the way men do, even the little boy. So sweet. ‘Have a good rest of the day,’ Paul says, and then, ‘See you, Stella.’
    And just like that he’s off. Now, call me a bit thick but when we arranged to meet for coffee I had the distinct impression we were also spending the day together. I distinctly remember the words “shopping” and “lunch” from somewhere in the conversation. Perhaps I imagined it. But before I can say anything he is hot-footing it out of Café Crème as though his arse is on fire. Some friend!
    I don’t know where the sinking feeling comes from. It’s not like I’d been looking forward to seeing him or anything – I see him every bloody day of the week, for goodness sake.
    Deciding that I must be more depressed than I realised, I turn to Bonnie and Marcus for help. Maybe they’d like some advice on what to buy an eight-year-old for his birthday. But I can tell immediately that I won’t get a look in from that quarter. The three of them are wrapped so tight there’s no room in the package for a slightly bored mate with an afternoon free. I am truly happy for Bonnie that she’s found a great bloke. I just hope there are one or two left out there for me. Well, just one will do, of course. I’m not greedy.
    As Bonnie and her ready-made little family disappear into the throngs in the shopping centre, bound for toy shop heaven, I decide to treat myself to another cappuccino. I think I deserve it. I think I’m coping fairly well with everything that’s going on at the moment. I have a plan (to renovate my house) and a list (of all the things I can’t live without) and I even have a mission