Mills & Boon Christmas Delights Collection. Rebecca Winters

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      ‘Shit!’ I squeaked.

      Michael pressed the seat belt button and it released itself, and me, from tension. I got out, slamming the door behind me and stalked around the vehicle towards the entrance to the flats. Unfortunately, Michael was also out of the car. And in my way.

      ‘I’d like to go in. Excuse me.’

      ‘You think because I don’t have relationships that I don’t value women?’

      I looked up at him. ‘Michael you admit yourself that you don’t see the same woman more than once. Twice if she’s lucky. Your bedroom is completely devoid of anything that would tell said woman anything about you and you also admit that you don’t show them the rest of the house. The whole point of you even going to speak to a woman is for you to have sex with her. That’s it. You’ve absolutely no intention of showing any of them who you really are. It’s about finding someone to fulfil a basic need. So if that constitutes me thinking you’re using them, then yes, you’re right. I do think that! Now, can I go please?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Did you ever stop to think that the women I sleep with are using me for exactly the same purpose?’

      ‘If you think you’re going to turn this into a sympathy vote, then you’ve got another think coming.’

      ‘Believe me, I don’t. And I don’t want to. I’m just saying that, in every instance, it’s two consenting adults. I’m absolutely always upfront about what I’m not looking for, i.e. something that goes beyond that night or maybe that weekend. The women I hook up with are looking for exactly the same thing I am. There’s no way I’d hit on someone…someone like you for example.’

      ‘Oh well! That is a relief.’

      ‘What I mean is that you’re after a hell of a lot more than a one-night stand.’

      ‘You have no idea what I’m after!’

      ‘I know you’re after more than that loser is giving you! You want it all Katie. And that’s fine. Why shouldn’t you? But you’re not getting it and you’re not even trying! Instead you just waste yourself on men like Calum and spend your time looking after friends - and even clients you don’t like very much - in order to fill whatever void it is that you have in your life.’

      ‘You have no right to judge me! And last time I checked, being kind wasn’t a crime.’

      ‘Of course it’s not. And as for judging you, you seemed to think it was OK to judge me and my treatment of women, so I’m just returning the favour. The difference is, I’m comfortable with my relationships.’

      I made a noise at his use of the word. He ignored it.

      ‘Clearly you’re not, which is why you run around trying to put everything and everyone into neat little boxes, trying to fix people’s lives when, in truth, you need to take a good hard look at your own. And that would start with your so-called boyfriend. If you’re happy to let him treat you like you’re not the most important thing in the world to him, then that’s fine. But you can’t force people who care about you to think it’s OK.’

      My eyes blazed and I could feel the tears shining in them as I willed them not to fall in front of him.

      Michael took off his cap, ran a hand through his hair and then replaced it. ‘I know that you deserve more than he’s giving you. And I think you know it too.’ His voice was softer now. He took a step back and leant on the car. ‘I’m sorry Katie. I didn’t mean to shout at you.’ He looked across at me. ‘You know, my sister would tell me about you sometimes, how frustrated she was over you seeing this guy. She loves you to bits, you know.’

      I nodded and a tear dislodged and rolled down my face. I swiped at it with the back of my mitten.

      ‘Anyway,’ Michael continued, ‘I’d just listen. You know, let her get it off her chest and then not think about it any more. But then I met you and now I can see why Janey is so upset about you wasting your life on him.

      I shook my head as he stepped towards me.

      ‘Katie.’ Michael’s thumb touched my cheek, gently wiping away the tears. ‘You’re talented, gorgeous, funny, intelligent, kind. You’ve all the good stuff going on. You should be with someone that appreciates all that.’

      ‘I’m sorry I upset Janey.’

      ‘Ah, she’s fine. And once you come to your senses about this guy, she’ll be even better.’

      I looked up and saw the conciliatory expression and the hesitant half-smile. But still…my mitten made a thwump sound as it hit the padding of his coat sleeve: I wasn’t about to let him off entirely.

      ‘It’s really not as bad as it seems, you know. I’m busy too so quite often, it’s…’ I stopped as I saw the look on Michael’s face. He was done exploding at me, but it was clear he wasn’t going to change his view on my relationship with Calum any time soon.

      ‘Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.’ He tilted his head at me. ‘You could at least try not to look quite so surprised. I know you think I’m a complete Neanderthal, but I do have some manners.’

      I was too tired to protest and actually it was kind of nice. Unless he was coming in, Calum usually dropped me at the kerb and left. It would have been nice occasionally for him to have walked me to the door, especially as it wasn’t like you could see it from the pavement, thanks to the bushes and a large London plane tree that stood in front of the building.

      I fished my key from my pocket. As I lifted it to the door and turned, Michael stepped back, allowing me room to go in.

      ‘Night Katie.’

      ‘Night Michael.’

      ***

       Are you in? x

      The text came back almost immediately.

       Yes. Are you nearby? x

       Got some time between appointments. Can I pop in? x

       Kettle’s on. Get your arse over here :D x

      I giggled at the reply and shoved the phone back in my bag, picking up my pace as I turned towards Janey’s house. The air was crisp in my lungs as the sun hung low in a cloudless blue sky. A jogger overtook me, which, bearing in mind she wore trainers and I wore four-inch platform court shoes, wasn’t that much of a surprise. Although, having had to belt for a bus in the same shoes in the past, I did at least know I could probably still give her a run for her money if I had to. My gaze fell on the little dog that trotted alongside her, a pink fluorescent jacket wrapped around its fluffy white fur. I tried not to think about Rooney. My determination lasted until the end of the road when I pulled out my phone, scrolled to Mark’s name and sent a text.

       How’s Rooney this morning?

      As I approached Janey’s house, my phone chirped and Mark’s message flashed on the screen. I stopped as I read it.

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