Rob is one of the best friends I have. We used to work together in an oppressive and dull corporate call centre, between calls we would make each other laugh and support each other through the boredom. I grew very close to him when he joined my team, and I could always feel a slight sexual charge between us, he would rest his leg against mine when I showed him something on my PC, or he’d tell me about the girls he was attracted to in explicit detail and watch my reaction. I never wanted to admit it made me slightly jealous.
I live with my boyfriend in a very sensible and safe relationship, and to say that Paul and Rob don’t get on would be something of an understatement, I have to keep them apart and discourage Paul from joining me when I go out if I know Rob will be there. I have to endure Rob’s comments too, snide little remarks about Paul that I don’t need to hear, but while I defend my boyfriend I realised I could never admit that I love Paul in front of Rob, my defence would usually be:
“Oh stop it; I live with the guy don’t I? I’m very fond of him!”
Rob left work a few weeks ago, leaving me with few people I get on with, and certainly no one as well as Rob. He’s leaving town in a few weeks to study and follow his dreams, or so he says. I will miss him an awful lot, more now I think about last Friday.
I went out to a leaving party, all Rob’s friends were seeing him off and I know a few of them so I agreed to come along, I wanted to say goodbye, although I’d probably see him before he left town.
The party was held in a familiar pub, we go there often, usually on a Friday, to relax and let the work stress go. I’m not a big drinker but I found myself exploring the cocktail menu with my friend Rachel. We were sat squashed in on one of the tables rather tipsy and laughing at the ‘men’ who were displaying testosterone and egos by telling stories about fights and showing off scars.
I was opposite Rob, and while he was joining in he was not as enthusiastic as usual, he kept glancing at me, and I felt his foot pressing against my leg, urging me to provide physical contact, although his expression and face didn’t show it. I don’t know whether it was the drink or my attraction to him, that appeared to grow by the second but I pushed back, sliding my leg further under the table and rubbing my foot against his.
Later on, I wasn’t much more drunk, I had started to alternate between lemonade and white wine to keep myself in check, I hate being drunk and out of control.
We had started dancing and Rachel had found a bloke to gyrate against as she usually does, leaving me with the choice to hope someone would come to my rescue or leave the dance floor and chat to my seated friends. I am not the most graceful or sexy of dancers and I was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable.
I was just about to leave and it down when I felt a body press up close behind me and wrap their arms around my waist. Startled I looked over my shoulder and realised Rob, swaying a little from the drink was holding me. I relaxed visibly, in the way that drink makes all movements slightly exaggerated.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked
“Yeah,” I replied. “I lost Rachel, as per usual”
Rob glanced over to the slim brunette who was now kissing her chosen guy enthusiastically; I guessed I wouldn’t see her for the rest of the night.
“Leave her” Rob said “you know what she’s like, we’ll have our own fun”
I felt a thrill race through me. Did he just mean we were having a good time, or more? I felt a guilty pang at the thought of Paul at home, probably in bed by now.
“Yeah,” I answered, “let’s have fun.”
Rob smiled and we carried on dancing for a while, Rob always staying behind me.
“Do you want another drink?” he shouted over the music. I glanced down at the empty glass I was clutching.
