Can't Turn Back Now, I'm Haunted (A Ben Willbond Rom Com)

Chapter Three | Don't You Want Me, Baby?

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around me in a tight squeeze. "How can it possibly have been ten years? We're both still 22!"

"I know," I laughed. "It's a miracle of the time-space continuum!"

In no time at all I'd been introduced to her friend, Bill, who'd opened the place just a few weeks ago, and he'd set us up at the bar with lemon drop shots and a cheese platter. We raised our glasses and toasted — "To your UK professional debut!" insisted Kamie — and knocked our shots on the bar before downing them in one sip.

"So," began Kamie, setting her glass upside down on the bar. "How you holding up, babes? I mean, since the whole..."

She waved her hand, vaguely, but I knew what she meant.

"Oh, you mean the whole 'sleeping with my co-star only to find out he had a girlfriend the whole time' thing?" I asked, mimicking her hand motion. "You know, I'm doin' great."

She laughed, sympathetically.

"I couldn't believe it when you texted me — what an absolute shit."

"Took the words right out of my mouth," I said with a mirthless chuckle. "That's why I was frankly relieved when Taylor Made didn't get picked up for a second season."

Kamie tilted her head, compassionately.

"On to bigger and better things, yeah?" She said with a reassuring smile.

"Yep," I said, with a deep, steeling breath. "And anyway, I learned my lesson — never get involved with coworkers!"

"Ooh, so there's no one fanciable at the new gig?" She looked disappointed. "I always thought the guy who plays Thomas was cute!"

"Married," I said with a shrug. She looked even more disappointed.

"Oop, speak of the devil!" Her face lit up as she pointed behind me. I spun around in my chair to see Mat, Martha, and Ben walking over to us.

Hello kisses were exchanged and I introduced them all to Kamie. A round of drinks were produced and before long, we were all laughing uproariously as Kamie and Martha shared stories of their separate trips to Greece that had both gone wildly awry.

"Right," Kamie said, slamming her hand on the bar. "Who's singing?"

Martha raised her hand.

"I'll do anything by Madonna!"

"If you do 'Crazy For You' I might cry," I said. "But, like, in a good way."

Mat held up his slip of paper, triumphantly.

"Save your tears, you'll need them for my stirring rendition of 'Crash Into Me' by Dave Matthews Band."

I choked on my drink.

"That classic made it over the pond, did it?"

"Oh yes," said Ben. "We had one summer in the nineties when every bloke with brown hair was very angst-ridden and carried around acoustic guitars."

I laughed, raising my eyebrows as I was reminded of the stark generational gap between us. I scanned his silvering hair and the attractive laugh lines around his eyes and bit my lip — not that he's even an option, I thought to myself, but if he were I can't say I'd mind the age difference...

"What about you, Ben?" Probed Kamie, mischievously. "Gonna bust out something from Horrible Histories?"

"No no," he said quickly, chuckling into his pint. "I think I'll be a raucous audience member tonight."