Just Play Along

Chapter 4 - Seventy-One & Seventy-Two

Chapter Four

PART SEVENTY ONE

*Jess’ POV*

A Year and a Half Later…

I rolled over in bed, switching the blaring alarm clock off. It was so early and I couldn’t believe I still had to get in a cab, go to my flat down in Chelsea, get ready for work, and then get to the office… all before my meeting at 8am.

Slipping out of bed, I pulled a pair of Aston’s sweats and a hoddie on over the big t-shirt I’d slept in, leaving him sleeping as I got my things together. He looked positively wrecked, no clothes on, his hair tousled, and huge bags under his eyes. No wonder too, it was his birthday the day before and we’d had a bit of a get together at his house to celebrate, saving the club do for the weekend. However, a little get together in Aston’s eyes turned out to basically be a massive house party, and we didn’t crawl into bed until well after 4am; Aston hammered out of his mind. Which meant, by the time I’d drifted off, I’d officially gotten an hour and a half of sleep. Fab.

Scrambling around I filled up a huge glass of water and left some tablets with it on the table to the side of Aston’s bed, scribbling a quick note to tell him I’d run to work. I suspected he’d probably sleep most of the day since he was off work for the week. 

Kissing his forehead, I ran out of Aston’s room and out the front door to the awaiting cab, ready for a short nap during the 30 minute ride to my flat.

It was such a normal routine now, the waking up early and running across town. I don’t know why I didn’t keep more things at Aston’s, I guess it had to do with how much I loved my little flat with Marnie down in Chelsea. I was just so resistant to let it go, which made no sense because I was staying at Aston’s at least four nights a week these days.

“Hey Jess,” Monica, the new receptionist greeted me, “Your 8am has been pushed back to 9. They were stuck in traffic.”

“You’re kidding?” I sighed, dropping my bag on the chair in my office. “I just ran up here!”

“Sorry,” Monica smiled. She was a sweet girl. A few years younger than me with twin daughters, and the father completely out of the picture. I liked her instantly when I interviewed her because I could tell how down to earth she was, and how badly she needed a good job.

“It’s fine,” I sighed, “Cup of coffee?”

“Already made some.”

“You’re too good,” I grinned, walking out to the kitchenette to serve myself.

“So…” Monica said, “How was last night?”

I always gave her the gossip because I knew she didn’t have much of a life outside of work. Her girls were at school during the day, and then her mum picked them up until she was off work. From 5pm or so she was in full on mum mode. “A bit of a mess,” I said with an eye roll.

“Oh?”

“Not like that,” I said, motioning for her to grab my spare seat in my office, “Aston invited over just about everyone in his phone. Turned into kind of a blow out.”

“Oh, fun!” Monica said, “So… did he get a little birthday action?” she winked.

I laughed out loud, recalling the moment when Aston had stripped down, only to pass out in his bed seconds later. “No.”

“Poor kid!”

“His fault. And, not really a kid anymore,” I pointed out, “He’s 27 now.”