This is part 2 of a four-part romantic story. There is a small amount of erotic content but this isn't written as a sexual tale.
~~~~~~~~ Chapter eight ~~~~~~~~
"So, come on tell me what happened, I'm dying to know, how did Saturday go?" Claire stuck her head around the door, wanting the details about her friend's date, almost immediately Debbie arrived at work on the Monday morning.
"And good morning to you to." Deb's looked up as her workmate stepped into the office.
"I told you he was nice, didn't I?" Claire laughed and continued without waiting for an answer to her question.
"Yes, he was very nice. A real gentleman in fact." She concurred with her friend's opinion, "Which made a change from that dirty old pervert that was your last suggestion."
"I've apologised for that." Claire reminded her sheepishly, "You can't hold that against me forever."
Deb grinned, "I know and I've forgiven you for that one."
"So, when are you going to see Brandon again then?" her friend continued her interrogation, "You are intending to see him again aren't you, hon?"
The younger blonde sighed, "No, I'm not. We had a nice meal and we chatted for a bit but I told him I don't want a boyfriend."
Claire groaned out loud, "Oh my god, why? Why not? He's absolutely perfect for you."
"In your opinion but not in mine. I'm sorry."
"Who are you comparing him against? Ryan Reynolds? Your standards are way too high." Claire complained.
"I just don't want a boyfriend. I've told you that so often but you don't listen. I'm really not interested in having a man in my life." Debbie repeated.
"Then what about sex?" Claire continued to harangue her, "You must want sex sometimes?"
Debbie laughed, "Personally I think sex can be very overrated. Now go away and let me get on with some work."
"Well, I'm not giving up that easily. I'm going to find you your Mr Right eventually." Claire declared resolutely as she left the office.
'Mr Right!' Debbie sat and stared into space, losing herself deep in thought about the comment her friend had just made. Would she ever be over him? Where exactly was he? She had found him a long time ago and then lost him.
The only conclusion was that her very own Mr Right hated her now, she was certain about that, and he had most likely moved on a very long time ago.
Taking a deep breath, Deb's pushed the conversation to the back of her mind and settled in to start the day's work.
She was kept busy with a string of calls and e-mails over the next few hours and barely managed enough free time to grab a coffee as the day flew by for her.
Before she realised it, it was almost five o'clock.
"Time for a drink?" Claire waylaid her as she shut down her computer and tidied her things away, "Before we go home?"
"Not on a Monday." Debbie frowned before continuing, "I'll buy you a coffee though. If you want?"
"Ok it'll have to do I guess." Her workmate sighed, "I'd prefer wine but I'll settle for a coffee."
Ten minutes later the two women had left the office and were sat down in a nearby café with a cappuccino each.
"So, when are you going to tell me about him?"
Debbie gave her friend a look of innocence, "Who? There's no one to tell you about."
"Like hell there isn't!" Claire exclaimed almost angrily, "There's got to be a someone I don't know about and you aren't telling me."
"Honestly Claire there is absolutely nothing to tell you." She continued to protest her innocence.
Her friend picked up her drink and took a sip of the hot coffee, scrutinising Debbie over the rim of the cup as she stared back with a wide eyed and innocent look.
"I don't believe you." She grinned eventually, "Brandon was perfect for you and yet you weren't even close to considering him. You're comparing him to someone and I'll find out sooner or later who, just see if I don't."
Debbie shrugged and concentrated on her own coffee, "There's really nothing to find out. I'm just boring old me."
Claire shook her head, "No, there's something more to you. I can tell you're hiding something."
Gazing into space she let her mind wander and thought about what it was she kept hidden from everyone, even herself. About her very own Mr Right who was no longer part of her life and who was now undoubtedly someone else's.
"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" her friend said after a minute.
"What? Who?" Debbie was jerked back into the present.
"Him! The guy that you won't tell me about."
With that Debbie blushed profusely and changed the subject.
The pair of them spent the remainder of the time discussing more general events that were occurring in the world and at work.
"Did you see on the news a couple more British soldiers were killed in Afghanistan?" Claire asked as they finished their drinks, "Both of them were only in their twenties."
"No. I can't say I did." Debbie shook her head.
"Yeah, it was quite bad apparently. There were several soldiers wounded as well and one of them won some sort of medal for saving the rest of his men." Claire continued.
"I wonder how their poor wives and families cope with it? Knowing the kind of danger their men are in." Deb's stared into space trying to imagine how those closest to the soldiers that were overseas fighting must feel.
"Those poor souls. How do you even manage to get through each day when you don't know if your husband or boyfriend or son is ever going to come home to you." Claire voiced what her friend was thinking, with more than a hint of emotion in her voice.
"I know I couldn't do it." the young blonde stated as the pair of them stood up to leave, "I'd just be a complete emotional wreck all of the time."
They parted company outside the coffee shop and Debbie slowly strolled home, her mind totally preoccupied with the conversation she had had at work that morning. Her Mr Right was long gone never to return and she had no one but herself to blame for that.
Pausing at her front door she found a tissue and wiped away the steady stream of tears that had started to run down her cheeks.
Taking a deep breath and turning her key in the door lock she stepped into her flat and announced her entry, "Hi, baby, I'm home."
~~~~~~~~ Chapter nine ~~~~~~~~~
Switching off the treadmill Jack checked the distance he had walked before turning to the cute physio that had been supervising his recuperation program. She was certainly distracting to look at and definitely took his mind off the exercising.
"How was that, Jack?" the attractive blonde asked handing him a towel to wipe his perspiration sheened face with, "Did you notice any pain or discomfort?"
He grinned at her, "It felt pretty good to be honest Stacey but I'll be a lot happier when I can start running again."
She smiled and wrote down the details of his walk on the record sheet she was holding, "All in good time. You know what they say about trying to run before you can walk."
"Yeah, I know. I know. One step at a time."
Stepping off the exercise machine he glanced at the chart making mental note of his steady improvement before heading across to the weights area to do his upper body exercises. He felt he had already made excellent progress and was regularly upping his workout routine to push himself further.
"You know you could probably manage to walk the whole distance to the local pub now Jack?" the pretty blonde physiotherapist told him as she followed him across the gym.
Ignoring yet another obvious attempt to get him to take her out Jack laid back on the bench press and, setting a light weight on the bar, he started to exercise.
"Of course, you would need someone to accompany you. Just in case something happened." Stacey continued, not put off by his failure to respond "That is if you decided to go to the pub at all."
With a groan of resignation Jack stopped what he was doing and sat up looking at her. She had been making advances towards him since the moment he had arrived at the centre and had been gradually wearing his resistance down.
She was definitely pretty enough; just 5' 4" tall, short blonde bobbed hair, expressive blue eyes and a nice figure with, what he guessed was, a firm 36C bust.
"If you want me to take you out, why don't you just come out with it and say so Stacey?"
She fluttered her eyelashes and giggled, "Ok. Will you take me out for a drink Jack?"
He sighed stoically.
"Yes. Ok, tonight. Now can I get on with my routine?" He laid back on the bench and started to push weights again.
"Great I'll collect you at 7 this evening. At the main entrance." Stacey grinned giving him his instructions, "Just make sure you're all ready for me."
It had been more than two weeks since Jack had arrived at the Loughborough centre and, in that time, he had made excellent progress with his recovery. The external wounds had healed very well although he knew the underlying muscle and tissue damage would take a little bit longer to fully mend.
He was now walking over two miles on the treadmill each day and pushing increasingly heavier weights, hopeful of being sent off on leave sometime soon.
The one ongoing complication for him had been Stacey. She had set her sights on him as soon as he had arrived and had made it abundantly clear that she was interested in him. So far Jack had, up till now, resisted every attempt the blonde physio had made to get him to take her out.
Now she had worn him down and he had finally given in, although he was unsure exactly as to why.
She was certainly attractive, she was fun to be around, and he knew most guys would be ecstatic about going out with a girl like her but he wasn't looking for a girlfriend. In fact, he hadn't had anything more than a couple of very short-term relationships since he had enlisted in the army.
Finishing his daily session Jack took a long hot shower before getting dressed and limping slowly back to his room.
He had a couple of hours or so to kill before his date and he laid back on his bed speculating as to why he had asked her out. He was still trying to make some sense of it when he eventually had to get changed before he made his way out to the main entrance of the centre to meet up with her.
"Hey Jack." Stacey bounced up to him as he exited the building, "All ready for our hot night out?"
