Radhika Sanghani - Not That Easy

He looked at me questioningly and I realised I’d stopped walking. ‘Yeah, I’m the same,’ I said. ‘Just looking for whatever life throws at me.’

He raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Are you quoting my dating profile?’

Oh fuck. I was unconsciously reciting the ‘Looking for’ section of his profile. I knew I shouldn’t have read it so many times. ‘Um, unintentionally?’

He laughed. ‘Well, at least you’ve done your homework. Gotta be safe, eh?’

‘Exactly.’ I grinned. ‘So, uh, is this the restaurant?’ We were standing outside the fanciest Chinese restaurant I’d ever seen. Stone lions were wrapped around the columns at the front and the words ‘Red Dragon’ were written in a non-tacky gold.

‘This is it,’ he said. ‘Hope you’re hungry.’

My plate was heaped with Ma Po Tofu, steamed aubergine, egg fried rice and crispy seaweed. The whole thing cost £18.99 and I’d eaten only three chopsticks’ worth.

‘This is so good,’ said JT, as he finished his first helping. ‘Do you not like it? You’ve barely eaten a thing.’ He looked discerningly at the mound of food on my plate.

‘Oh God, no, it’s amazing. I’m just pacing myself.’ I raised my chopsticks to my mouth and forced myself to swallow. It was the nicest Chinese I’d had in years but I was so full of £1.99 tortellini I couldn’t eat it. Typical. ‘Anyway, tell me more about you,’ I said. ‘You work for Marc Jacobs, right? Are you going to get me freebies?’

‘You’re not the first person to ask me that, but no, I’m sorry, those are strictly for me. Shit, that makes me sound very camp doesn’t it?’

‘Yeah, just a bit.’ I smiled. ‘Honestly though, I was pretty relieved when I saw on your profile that you work in IT and not fashion.’

‘Bit more manly, eh?’

‘Totally,’ I replied, wishing I could think of something witty to add. Instead, I reached for my chopsticks and forced more mouthfuls down me.

‘So I know you’re interning for some crazy boss, but what exactly is the magazine? Is it a fashion one?’ he asked.

‘Uh, it’s more just a bit of everything. It’s the London Mag. Have you heard of it?’

‘Obviously,’ he said, leaning back in his chair. ‘It’s the new online one that’s getting bigger each week. I’m impressed.’

‘Yeah, except you forget I’m not actually getting paid for it.’

‘This is some extensive hinting that you can’t get the bill, Ellie,’ he teased. ‘I would have paid anyway, you know.’

I blushed and looked up at him through my layers of mascara in an attempt to look like Ange_xx. ‘I would never expect a man to pay for me.’

He laughed. ‘You’re hilarious. I’m so glad I said yes to this date with you.’

I had no idea what I’d done that was so funny, but if he was enjoying the date, who was I to say otherwise? ‘Me too,’ I said.

‘I was kind of surprised when you asked me out though,’ he admitted.

‘What, why?’ Shit—maybe Emma was wrong and it was still desperate to ask someone out online?

‘I guess I’m not used to forward girls,’ he said.

Forward?! I wasn’t FORWARD. I was a virgin at twenty-one, for Chrissake.

‘Right.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s … sexy. I like it. In fact, I like it so much that I’m going to get the bill and rescue you from that plate of food that you clearly don’t want to eat.’

Oh my God, I didn’t have to eat my cold Chinese. This was it—he was officially the one. You could fall in love with one-night stands-to-be, right?

I crossed my legs and flicked my mass of hair over my shoulder as I laughed demurely at JT’s joke. I was perched on a bar stool in the poshest wine bar—OK, only wine bar—I’d ever been to and I was determined to act as elegantly as was required.

‘Another glass of Muscadet?’ asked JT. I nodded enthusiastically and almost toppled off my stool. ‘Careful,’ he said, as he steadied me with his arm.

The only problem was that it was getting quite difficult to act the height of sophistication when my date was plying me with drinks. Was this glass number … four? Five?

I ignored the sensible voice in my head screeching at me to order a tap water and graciously picked up the wine glass the barman put in front of me.

‘Why thank you,’ I said.

‘Anything for the lady,’ said JT. He looked straight into my eyes and I swallowed a laugh.

‘I’ll just have a tap water as well, please,’ I told the barman.

‘Water already?’ asked JT.

‘Oh, just to stop me from getting absolutely pissed and embarrassing myself,’ I said.

‘I don’t think you could embarrass yourself,’ he said.

I stared at him. ‘Um, are you kidding me? You do realise I started this date by running away from you because I thought you were a paedophile? And, last week—’

He interrupted me mid-sentence by leaning in and planting his lips on top of mine. I spluttered in surprise before my brain whirred into action and I kissed him back. Lara and Emma were so wrong—my embarrassing stories were seductive.

He stood up from his stool and came closer to me as we kissed. I leant against him and he started rubbing his tongue against mine. I reciprocated to the best of my abilities and put my hands on his face. He grabbed my arse and pulled me in towards him. I gasped out loud at how X-rated things were getting, but JT seemed to interpret it as a sound of pleasure and started snogging me at double the speed.

I held on to the bar to steady myself, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the barman shake his head in disgust. The British prude inside of me tried to break away, but JT pulled me in closer towards him and squeezed my boob.

‘You’re so sexy,’ he murmured in my ear. ‘I’m just going to go to the bathroom and then I’m taking you home with me.’

I nodded mutely and he winked at me before turning around and walking away. I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I was holding in. This was it. I was going to have my first ever one-night stand.

‘Excuse me,’ said the barman.

‘Oh, I don’t want another drink,’ I said. ‘Thanks, but we’re off now.’

He raised his eyebrows at me. ‘I was actually going to say, I think you have something on your face.’

I stared at him in confusion and then reached out to touch my face. It was damp. Oh, how embarrassing, it must be saliva, but … how could he see that? I lowered my hand and squinted at it in the purple UV light. It was covered in a dark liquid.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS ON MY FACE?

I stood up and rushed towards the mirrored walls of the bar. My entire left cheek, and parts of my forehead, were covered in this brown liquid. Had I rubbed against some paint? Was it red wine?!

I whirled around to look at the barman again. He was hiding a grin. ‘I think it might be blood,’ he said.

Blood?! Why was my face bleeding?? Then it slowly dawned on me. It wasn’t my blood. It was JT’s. He had nose-bled on my face.

My hands jumped to cover my face instinctively and I ran blindly towards the loos. I pushed past the queue of surprised girls and raced to the mirror. Under the bright yellow lights I could see my face was covered in blood. I looked like a Halloween midwife.

I turned the taps on full and began washing it off my face. It slid off along with half my make-up. After furiously scrubbing at my skin with paper towels, I was blood free. Thank God.