Read Online The Cupid Effect by Dorothy Koomson - Free Book Online Page A

we’d spend hours on the phone often talking about sex (some of our conversations were so pornographic they bordered on phone sex), we’d sit too close, hug for too long, stare too much. He’d often turn up at the house I shared with three other people with a six-pack of beer and a video and we’d cuddle up in my bedroom and watch it. On the other hand, nothing happened. Ever . Not during college, not after college. I sometimes got the feeling that he was thinking about kissing me, thinking about taking our relationship to the next level, particularly when we were lying on my bed watching something he’d taped, but it was all just think with him. He never did anything. I did consider kissing him, of course, but I was never sure how it’d be received. You see, if there was one thing I’d learnt about men, it was that if they liked you enough, nothing, except possibly an act of God – and even then it was a close-run thing – would stop them making a move. So, why did Drew never just lean down and cover my lips with his, even when his arms were holding me close to his chest? Because he didn’t like me enough, was the short answer.
    Still, even though I knew this, even though I had this short answer, I was confident that would change over time. He went out with other people, I’d see other people but none of those relationships ever lasted. Because the two of us were going to end up together, weren’t we? When we were single, we’d flirt till it hurt, all preparation for us getting together, I thought.
    Three years ago, he met his girlfriend, Tara. Met her, then rang me up in a tizzy saying, ‘Ceri, it’s happened, I’ve met her. I’ve met the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’ve met The One .’
    I’d always listened with interest when he’d met other women. It was the kind of interest that came from knowing it’d never last because, well, they weren’t me. He and I were meant to be. It was written in the stars, in the Domesday Book, practically anywhere you looked it said ‘Drew & Ceri 4 ever’. This time had been different. I could hear it in his voice. The excitement and joy and shock that he’d met his ideal woman. He was in love. After two hours, he was in love. She was, indeed, The One. And she wasn’t me. Or like me in any way. (Whashisface Tosspot asked me to move in with him about six hours after I got that call from Drew. By all rights, I should’ve taken to my bed with a bottle of wine and a box of tissues, instead, I’d gone to meet Whashisface Tosspot. Maybe I’d suddenly realised that now my long-term plan for happiness was heading off into the sunset with someone else and I needed a back-up plan, a sunset companion of my own, Whashisface Tosspot became it. It could’ve been that, but personally, I favour the Jedi Mind Trick/Work Of The Devil explanation.)
    I’ll never forget the sudden horror that rushed through me when I heard Drew’s words. It’d hit me, right then, that we weren’t eventually going to end up together. That maybe, if I’d told him earlier how I felt, things would’ve turned out different. I didn’t want that for Ed. Or for anyone. ‘What if’ was no way to live your life. ‘Always regret the things you did do, never the things you didn’t,’ someone once said. They weren’t wrong.
    â€˜I’ll tell you Ed, nine years of unrequited love that results in nothing more than friendship hurts, quite a lot. Hate to see you waste your twenties like I did, mate. Ask her out and if she says no, at least you’ll know. You can find someone else to lust, I mean, love.’
    Ed was silent for a very long time, he pursed his lips slightly and his eyes clouded over, he was thinking very hard by the face on him. My eyes strayed back to the TV screen and to the gorgeous but silent David Boreanaz. I jumped guiltily