Ten Years On Read Online Free PDF

dark wet hair appears, naked chest and a pink fluffy towel wrapped round his lean waist. ‘Hello,’ he says, a hint of a smile behind his grey eyes. ‘I’m Joe. Joe Lawson. How do you do? Olly gave me keys.’
    How do you do? Who are you? ‘You’re wearing my towel,’ I point out, trying not to gawp at his naked chest.
    ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ He takes it off and hands it to me. ‘I haven’t unpacked yet.’
    Open-mouthed and holding my towel in one hand, I watch him walk away. Great body, I think to myself, before getting a grip and calling out, ‘Sorry, who the hell are you?’
    *
    ‘Olly, you could have warned us,’ I say, when we’re having a house meeting in the local pub that night.
    He crosses his arms. ‘Oh, come on, Becca, what’s the big deal?’
    ‘The big deal is we –’ I gesture to Sylvie and Jamie – ‘don’t know him! Maybe you should have stopped to ask us first?’
    ‘We needed to find someone urgently,’ Olly defends himself.
    ‘I know that, but I think we should all have a say.’ I wait for Sylvie to support me, but uncharacteristically she doesn’t utter a word.
    ‘Joe wasn’t happy in his digs,’ Olly continues, ‘so I thought I was doing us all a favour by asking him.’
    ‘Listen,’ Jamie steps in, ‘I was talking to Joe earlier, Becca, and he seems OK.’
    ‘Did you know, he took my towel?’
    ‘No! Shocking! He seems fine to me too,’ Sylvie adds, before heading to the bar saying we could all do with another drink. ‘Besides, he’s hot ,’ she calls over her shoulder.
    ‘Exactly. Sylvie’s not complaining,’ Olly reasons. ‘Are you happy, Jamie?’
    ‘It’s too late to ask him now!’ This argument hasnothing to do with Joe any more. It’s more that Olly can’t see why I get angry sometimes.
    ‘He’ll be a great babe magnet,’ Jamie reflects, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Jamie wears spectacles and has a face as round as a snooker ball and a belly like a bouncy castle. Thin would not suit him. He has hundreds of friends, but the girls see him as a cuddly toy, not a Joe Lawson.
    Olly agrees. ‘He used to play rugby, played for his county or something.’
    ‘You can tell he works out.’ Sylvie smiles, returning with the drinks. I grab my beer, ruffled that the others are so easily taken in. ‘Come on, Becca, we do need the rent, and I’m sure it won’t be that difficult to get to know him,’ Sylvie argues, reaching into the back of her jeans pocket to find a crumpled pack of Marlboro lights.
    ‘All you want to do is jump into bed with him, so that’ll be fun. Lots of atmosphere in the house.’
    ‘You and Olly are together –’ she shrugs – ‘and I don’t complain.’
    Damn it! She has a point. I sit back, can see I’m getting nowhere. Besides, he’s already moved in, so short of hurling his suitcase out of the window and changingthe locks, there’s nothing I can do. Besides, maybe I should give him a chance.
    Alone, Olly and I walk home through the square.
    ‘He was starkers, Ol.’
    ‘Just drop the towel, Becca.’
    I laugh. ‘Joe did that. You should have seen his muscles.’
    Olly flexes his arms. ‘I have muscles.’
    I squint. ‘You hide them well.’ I walk on ahead of him. ‘You’d better watch out, Olly, you’ve got competition!’
    He catches me up, grabs my arm and swings me round to face him. ‘Becca, you’re right. I should have asked first.’
    ‘Oh, listen, I overreacted too,’ I concede. ‘I know I get het up about stuff.’
    ‘Do you?’ He laughs, pulling me towards him. ‘How can I make it up to you?’
    ‘Ah,’ I ponder, ‘let me think. I’d like a foot massage, crème brûlée in bed …’
    ‘How about you and me get an early night.’
    We kiss. ‘That sounds good. I need to catch up on some sleep.’
    Olly raises an eyebrow. ‘Who said anything about sleep?’
    ‘What’s Joe reading again?’ I ask, as Olly unlocks the front door.
    ‘Medicine,’ Joe answers for him, dressed in jeans