Eve.

A name that, for three years, had sent my head and my heart on a rollercoaster. The simple mention of her would evoke a flurry of emotions in me, of joy and of pain. How could a girl of such sweet disposition have me cursing her existence, other than the fact that I had such strong feelings for her?

We first met when I was sixteen and she was fifteen-and-a-half. We didn’t go to the same school, but we had friends in common – it was at a birthday party for one of those friends that we were introduced to each other. Somehow she spent most of the party hanging around with me, not because we were particularly attracted to each other but because we were fascinated with each other’s interests. We had just clicked as friends and, for a while, that was where we stood with each other.

Our friendship carried on its simple path until Eve turned sixteen herself. At the end of her party, once everyone else had left, we were talking while sat on her bed when I asked her if she was actually interested in me. She didn’t say anything in response; instead, she leaned in and kissed me on the lips. After making out for a bit, we decided that we were boyfriend and girlfriend and we should do more together.

Except that was not what actually happened. While Eve put in effort to make the relationship, I was still giddy with the feeling of having a girlfriend to begin with. She made the running, and I was simply following her lead. She wanted us to do things as a couple, and I was just happy to be with her. I was happy with the title of ‘boyfriend’, but I wasn’t really doing a huge amount to justify it. It was really no surprise that, three months later, we called the thing off. Or – more truthfully – she called it off and I meekly complied, not even bothering to offer to change my ways and save our relationship.

After six months of deliberately avoiding each other, we mended fences and resolved to continue as friends. However, Eve had changed in that time. I had become more attracted to her than I did when we were actually together, although I kept quiet about this to her for fear of ruining our friendship. Meanwhile, she kept talking about the boys she spent time with, mostly just as friends but a couple of guys were mentioned at different times as boyfriends. Surprisingly I did not feel jealousy, but disappointment in myself that I could have been with Eve if I had been a better boyfriend: the feeling that I had wasted my chance.

I invited Eve to my eighteenth birthday, and she came with another guy. Their behaviour that night intrigued me: they didn’t seem close enough to look like they were actually in a relationship, but they were close enough that I certainly wasn’t going to be able to win her over any time soon. Not that it really mattered at the time as I had another girlfriend by that point, for whom I was making a proper effort – until she went and lost her virginity to another boy at my school the following weekend.

By the time Eve’s eighteenth birthday had come around she was definitely single, and she invited me to dinner with only her closest friends. The week after we met up and she asked if I wanted to get back together with her; after mulling it over for five minutes I told her most emphatically “yes”, and we started making plans for the following weekend. However, when I went to meet her after work that Saturday, she advised me that she had a change of heart and did not want to be my girlfriend and apologised for breaking my heart. I went back home and hid in my room, bawling my eyes out as though I had lost a parent; this time hurt far more than the first, possibly because I had wanted to be better at the relationship but was stopped anyway.

Another period of self-imposed radio silence followed, during which time I started university studies. It was not until early in the second semester that I heard again from Eve. Ironically, her text message to me landed on my phone just as I was about to pluck up the courage to ask a girl in my course out on a date, which kicked the metaphorical chair out from under me as I once again had thoughts of being with Eve again. We caught up a few times for coffee or something harder, and once again she mentioned the boys that she spent time with, which brought back those feelings of disappointment.

To make matters worse, I couldn’t even work out if Eve was actually playing around with my feelings or if she was doing so by sheer accident. Whenever we met I really wanted to confront her about how I felt about the whole thing, but when I saw her I could not bring myself to say the words. One part of me was scared of saying something that could destroy our friendship, while another part of me was refusing to believe that such a sweet girl could be capable of manipulating me the way I felt she was.

It was with that as a backdrop that I came up to the end of another year…

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It had just gone four o’clock in the afternoon on New Year’s Eve. Not surprisingly for Melbourne at that time of year, the temperature was hovering in the low thirties, the sunny day forecast to turn into a clear and mild night. My mobile phone started ringing: Eve’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hello, Eve, and an early Happy New Year to you,” I answered.

“Hi, Marcus, how are you?” Everyone that knew me, family included, simply called me Marc, but Eve made a particular point of using my undiminished first name to get a rise of me.

“Hot, but so is the rest of Melbourne,” I shot back.

“Bit early for New Year’s greetings, isn’t it? Sun hasn’t even set yet.”

“Figured I might not speak to you until well into well past New Year’s, so I might as well get in early.”

“That’s why I was calling. What are doing tonight?”

“Not much.” I realised that I actually had nothing planned for New Year’s Eve, at least in a social sense. Maybe ride my bicycle into the City, watch the fireworks, struggle to get out of the crowds and ride back home, alone. “Don’t tell me, you’ve got something spectacular to go to.”

“No, actually. How do you feel about meeting in town and kicking around until after midnight?”

Oh, great. I could feel my heartstrings getting plucked like a cheap guitar. “Um, yeah, I’d be up for that.” Yep, the strings have just snapped. “Will there be company?” I asked, expecting Eve to bring a contingent.

“Depends on who turns up. Seven-thirty outside State Library?”

“Sold. I better get cleaned up then.”

“Go do that. See you later, Marcus,” she said sweetly.

“Bye, Eve.” I hastily hung up and went to get ready. Once again, my mind was conflicted: I could well do with a night out on the town, but there was better than even odds that I would end up feeling teased by Eve’s presence, and I would end up going home alone to yet another haunting dream about her. I stepped under the shower and washed my self up; the moment I began thinking about her, I immediately swung the tap over to cold to snap me out of it. I got out, dried off and picked out some clothes – the forecast was for Melbourne to still be in the mid-twenties at midnight, so a short-sleeved checked shirt and a pair of shorts would be fine for the night. Once I got my shoes on, I picked up my phone again to see that Eve had called while I was in the shower; I hit ‘call back’ on the screen and waited for her to answer.

“Hey, Marcus.”

“You rang?”

“Yeah, just wondering: Jodie’s got something on tomorrow afternoon at her place. Instead of getting up early to go out there, is it OK to crash at your place?” Jodie was the mutual friend who’s birthday saw the two of us meet.

 “No problem. The spare bed’s all set up, just crash there.” Even better, I potentially now will have Eve haunting me all the way home and all night as she sleeps in the spare room at my place.

“Great.” I couldn’t tell if I had heard a slight dip of disappointment in Eve’s response, or if I was imagining it. “See you soon.”

“See you later.” I braced my self for the night ahead, slung my courier bag over my shoulder, stepped out of the house and walked up the road to the railway station, catching a train to the centre of Melbourne.

--------

As I stepped out of the shopping centre above the station after a quick stop at the bottle shop, crossing Swanston Street while avoiding trams and cyclists, I saw Eve standing alone on the undulating lawn at the front of the State Library. Dirty blonde shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, wearing a long green summer dress with short sleeves and a deep neckline, and a pair of canvas sneakers. At her feet sat a backpack, presumably carrying a change of clothes for the next day plus whatever contraband she had brought to drink in the new year. Her beauty, to my eyes, lay in how plain she looked: for all the girls I had seen made up to within an inch of their lives, nothing could turn my head faster than Eve’s chilling-on-a-Sunday-morning norm-core look. Her head-nod acknowledgement to the night’s significance by wearing a dress made her look more beautiful.

“Hello, Marcus. How’s the train?” She stretched her arms open in greeting.

“Packed. At least I got a seat.” I responded with the quick hug. “So, where’s the company?”

“You’re it.” Eve flashed a wicked smile.

“Okay…” I drew out my response, unsure as to her intentions. “So, what’s the plan?”

“How about dinner, and we go from there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” We walked down Swanston Street, checking the restaurants and noting the full tables. Upon spotting a free table at a Vietnamese place we quickly got seated and settled in for dinner; despite the warm weather, we both enjoyed bowls of pho as we caught up on recent events.

Having finished dinner, we continued down the street towards the Yarra. There are normally two fireworks displays on New Year’s Eve: as well as the midnight show there is an earlier show for the benefit of families with young children. As we reached the river the banks were already full of people; we squeezed our way through the crowds on Princes Bridge before finding a spot on the terrace behind Hamer Hall to watch the early show.

After the last of the fireworks exploded over our heads, Eve led me over the road and into the gardens, climbing up a grassy bank to a spot against the perimeter of the Music Bowl where we could look back towards where the fireworks had been. Sitting on the grass, she opened her backpack and pulled out two bottles of cider and handed them to me so that I could knock the tops off them. Handing one back to her opened, we clinked our bottles in salute and took our first swigs as we sat down on the grass.

For the next couple of hours, we talked about all manner of stuff: our studies at university, my commitment to cycling despite having a serious accident a couple of months prior that resulted in a set of capped teeth, Eve’s commitment to writing despite suffering writer’s block in recent months, and our respective families. It was as we were talking about my family – and my sister’s frostiness towards Eve – when I noticed the time was approaching midnight. “Hold that thought, Eve, it’s the final countdown soon.” I pulled out another pair of cider bottles from my satchel, quickly opened them and handed one to her as we both rose to our feet.

We bellowed the count from ten to one before seeing the sky over the Yarra explode once again in fire. We both took swigs from our bottles before I put my arm around Eve and pulled her close, kissing her forehead before releasing her. She responded with a peck on my cheek. “Happy New Year, Marcus,” she said.

“Happy New Year, Eve,” I responded. We stood and watch the midnight fireworks until the last shell exploded high above the City when we sat back down on the grass. “Flinders Street will be a zoo right now. Might as well hang back and get a later train with fewer lemmings.”

Eve giggled as she took another sip. “So, resolutions. What’s yours, apart from getting through the year uninjured on your bike?”

“Doing well enough to qualify for student exchange next year.”

“Ooh, whereabouts?”

“Glasgow.”

“Nice. Travelling overseas is mine too, but I haven’t decided where.”

After a pause, I went to add, “I guess I better add… oh, never mind.” I buried my face in my free palm and turned away from Eve.

“Add what, Marc?”

“No, don’t worry.”

“Come on Marc, tell me,” she pleaded.

After a moment I took my hand off my face. “No, you want to hear my New Year’s resolutions, not just me beating myself up,” I said while trying not to cry.

“Is this about the girl thing? The ‘us’ thing?”

“No, not about us, but yes it’s about the girl thing. And I should bloody well grow up about it.”

“Well, that’s a good sign.” Eve sounded relieved.

“I was going to make the crack that getting a girlfriend is probably less of a resolution and more of a stretch goal.” I tried to compose my self. “But I just… I don’t know.”

“So it is about us, then.”

“The fact is – and I’m sorry if I’m about to ruin your night, but – every time I see you all I can think about is how I stuffed things up when we were together. I feel like your continued friendship is a punishment to me, knowing that once it could have been more but will no longer be. And I want to move on, but that one flicker of hope draws me back despite the disappointment I inflict on myself because of it.” Tears began to trickle down my face.

“Oh, shit, Marcus. I’m sorry…”

“No, Eve. Sorry for the cliché but it’s definitely not you – it’s most definitely me.”

“Marcus…”

“The fact is, I want to go on exchange only partly for my studies. I figured if I can get myself halfway around the world and surround myself with bleak weather, violent football, hideously strong beer, accents that require subtitles and possibly the odd redheaded lass I may be able to get over you. Or maybe not – who am I kidding?”

“For fuck’s sake, Marcus,” Eve burst out laughing. “Ten points for effort on the plan, but…” She then composed herself. “Seriously, I want to be your friend and I don’t want to see you in pain. I’m sorry if… no, I’m sorry because you feel that way about me. Let me help you, please. Tell me what you want?”

“Please help me to move on,” I said quietly.

“How so?”

“I don’t know. Help me with my confidence, maybe some introductions – you’ve got a bigger and more solid group of friends than me, just reassure me that if I find someone new I am not going to cause you great offence.”

“Tell me, Marcus, do you actually want to have sex with me?” Eve asked in a straight, matter-of-fact manner.

“No, Eve… well, yes maybe… oh, I don’t know. That’s not helping.” I started crying again.

“Sorry, I feel like that’s where you’re going.”

“No, because it wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t feel right. I would like to do it because we actually wanted to be together, not because you felt pity and wanted to offer me a charity fuck. Sorry, Eve.”

Eve was taken aback by my response. “You know what, Marc…” She paused before continuing. “Do you want to know how many guys I have had sex with?”

I dried my eyes. “Not really, but it’s probably going to be relevant.”

She held up her hand, thumb touching forefinger to form a circle. “Really. Made out with a few. Shared a bed with a couple. But never had a guy inside me.”

“I don’t believe you.” The shock was breaking my composure again.

“In fact, the only person I’ve had inside me was a girl. She stayed with me after a party one night, wanted some support, I laid with her in bed and… well, you know.” She paused as my mouth was agape, before continuing. “Not really my thing but it felt nice.”

Now I was even more confused. Here I was with the girl that I thought was banging a variety of men, causing me mental torture, now saying she’s still a virgin apart from a brief lesbian fling. “Look, this is just doing my melon in, Eve,” I said with exasperation. “I just want to go home and forget about tonight. New resolution: find something to cleanse my mind of all this.” I hurriedly finished my cider, slung my satchel over my head and got up to leave; in my haste I lost my footing and tumbled down the bank, coming to rest on the edge of the footpath at the base of the slope.

Eve slowly walked down the bank, crouching down next to me and offering her hand. “Are you alright, Marc? Anything hurt?”

“Only my dignity, I think.” I took her hand and got back on my feet. “Maybe some bruises in the morning. God, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Let’s get you home. You’re no two-pot screamer but you are tired and emotional – literally.” Eve scrambled up the bank to retrieve her backpack, came back down carefully and took my arm, leading me through the Domain back towards Princes Bridge. The crowds at Flinders Street Station had thinned slightly and we easily made it down to the platform. Once on the train, we sat in silence for the whole journey.

--------

We got off the train and walked down deserted streets, the quiet night air punctuated by the odd ongoing party, the sky clear and twinkling with stars.

“Look, Marc,” Eve said, pointing westwards at the night sky. “The belt of Orion,” pointing to the three stars visible through the light pollution. “I always look out for it whenever I’m out at night.”

“Okay,” I said. “I do the same thing for the Southern Cross. A bit too obvious, though.”

“Are you feeling okay, Marc? Any aches after your tumble?”

“I’m fine, although you’ll now have a story for all your friends about how much of a prat I made myself.”

“Just between us. Besides, New Year’s Eve injuries are boring unless they’re serious.”

We reached my house and I opened the door, trying to minimise the sound of us entering. I showed Eve to the spare room where she unpacked, while I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. As I finished she appeared in the doorway wearing short satin pyjamas and holding her toothbrush; I squeezed past her, bade her goodnight and retired to my room, stripping off my clothes and pulling on a pair of boxers before climbing into bed.

As I was about to turn off my bedside lamp the bedroom door opened and Eve stepped in, closing it behind her. She climbed onto my bed and knelt next to me; I sat up in bed in reaction. “Marc,” she said softly, “I’m sorry if I ruined your night. I’m sorry if you feel I have messed up your life. I want to make sure you are happy no matter what.”

“It’s okay,” I replied quietly. “I just felt I needed to say it out loud. And I’m sorry for ruining your night too.”

“No, I thank you for joining me tonight. I actually enjoyed it, no matter what you think.” Eve leant in and pressed her forehead against mine: whether as a couple or as friends we did this as a sign of tenderness, and I expected the same this time. However, she then pivoted her head to first have our noses meet before tilting further to place a kiss on my lips. I returned the favour by kissing her back, and we traded kisses for a minute before Eve broke off. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said as she got off the bed and left my room.

“Why would I go anywhere? I’m in my own bed,” I muttered as I remained sat up in bed.

Eve soon returned with her mobile phone and its charger, plugging it into a spare outlet on the power board next to my bed before placing her phone on my bedside table. She climbed back onto my bed and resumed her kneeling pose next to me, returning her face to mine. “Let’s just enjoy tonight,” she whispered. “We’ll worry about the new year tomorrow.” We starting kissing again, now adding our tongues to the mix. I took hold of her sides, feeling the heat of her body through the satin, while she put her arms around my neck. After a while Eve broke off again and dropped her arms. Looking into my eyes, she said, “You know what to do with these buttons,” as she then glanced down at her chest.

I took hold of the front of her pyjama shirt and began undoing the buttons, each one popping in turn until the front was undone, before slowly pushing her shirt back open to uncover her C-cup breasts. When Eve and I were together the first time around we made out topless a couple of times, and her cleavage had been teasing me from the neckline of her dress all night, but seeing them exposed reminded me once again of how beautiful they looked. I kissed her again before pushing her shirt off her shoulders and down her arms, to which she completed taking it off and dropping it beside the bed.

Eve then pulled back the blanket and climbed under it, lying down on the spare pillow of my double bed, before I too lay back down and turned off my bedside lamp, the moonlight coming in through my window and making my room far less than dark. As we gazed into each other’s eyes she put her arm on my side, sending a tingle across my skin. “I am here for you, and I want to make you happy tonight,” she said. “Tomorrow you can move on, and I can help you do that, but tonight I want you to enjoy you and me.”

I broke my gaze, glancing towards the pillow. “But what if tonight won’t let me move on, Eve? What if tonight makes me want you more?”

“Moving on can mean a number of things, Marc. But let’s just enjoy tonight.” Eve pulled me into a comforting embrace and stroked my hair, sending more tingles down my spine. The smell of her hair gave me a nostalgic high, reminding me of times I held her close when I was first in love with her. She then released me from her grip and we resumed kissing tenderly and stroking each other. Then, all of a sudden, Eve sat up and I got the feeling that she may have called time on our cuddling and was about to head back to the spare room. Instead, she raised her arse and slipped her pyjama shorts off, sliding the satin down her legs under the blanket before pulling them back out into the open and dropping them next to its matching shirt.

I sprung up bolt upright. After telling myself all night that I was not going to let Eve lead me on – and then telling her to her face – I now had her lying naked next to me probably expecting me to follow suit. “No, Eve, I’m sorry,” I pleaded quietly. “I don’t want it to happen this way, and I don’t think you want this either.”

“How do you know what I think?” Eve answered, her offence audible.

“You are only doing this out of pity. Or because it makes you feel better. I want to be with someone who actually wants me, not just the idea of being with me. Ironic, I know after what I did, but I get it now and I want the punishment to stop.” Tears reappeared in my eyes.

“No, Marc, what will make me feel better is to see you happy. And for you to be my first. You were my first love, you were the first one I ever wanted to be close to, and I owe it to both you and me. Did you ever wish that I was your first?”

“Ever since we first met. I…” I realised that I had dropped a massive tell. “Oh, fuck, I’m just a fucked-up ball of fuckheadedness that doesn’t deserve someone as smart and as caring and beautiful as you. As much as I want to be with you, you should be with someone far better. I mean, for fuck’s sake…” At that point I reached under the covers and pulled my boxer shorts down, kicking them off my feet before side-footing them out of the bed, “I can’t even stay hard right now because I don’t think I’m worthy of you. There, Eve, it’s all yours but it’s useless.”

Eve reached under the blanket and took a hold of my flaccid cock and began pulling on it. “It’s not useless at all. Marc, you need to stop beating yourself up about me,” she said reassuringly. “We’re all messed up in our own way. I can’t seem to commit to a guy for any significant time, and maybe it’s because I never got over you either.” Suddenly, I felt my blood flow into my groin and my cock acquired a useful stiffness. “Ooh, someone’s happy to hear that,” she giggled as her pulls became strokes up and down my shaft.

“That actually feels good,” I moaned as she wanked me.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Eve said in a low voice. “I’m here for you tonight, Marcus. Just let yourself enjoy it.” We resumed kissing as she kept stroking my cock. Soon I reached between her legs and gently ran my hands up the inside of her thighs until I felt a trimmed patch of hair; my touch triggered Eve to spread her legs wider and I began rubbing her clit, which prompted her to break off kissing. “Oh, Marcus, that feels good. How did you know to do that?”

“Sheer dumb luck, Eve,” I said as I rubbed her faster. My cock was at maximum hardness and I began to feel that I could come any moment, so I stopped my fingering of Eve and moved to stop her from pulling me off. “Enough, unless you want a mess and an early end,” I warned her.

“Oh, I can’t believe how hard that thing has gotten,” she said. “I really want that inside me. Please, Marcus, lay me down and make love to me.”

I put my arm around her shoulders and supported her as she dropped her head back onto the pillow. I then laid my body between her legs, propped my self on my elbows and looked into her eyes. “I want to make love to you so badly, Eve. Is that okay?” I asked.

“Yes, Marcus. Please fuck me now,” she purred as she reached down and took hold of my cock, guiding it towards her pussy until I felt her hot, wet folds on my tip. I then pushed forward slowly, letting her pussy envelop my cock. Eve’s mouth fell open and she drew breath as my knob entered her fully and my shaft followed, exhaling with a loving moan once I drew back.

“How does that feel? Is it okay?” I asked.

“That was good. Please, continue,” she replied.

Being so close to Eve once again, I had no interest in simply banging her quickly and marking a notch on my bed. I moved slowly in and out of her, maintaining movement as I sought to take in as much of her as my senses could manage. The scent of her hair as I breathed her in, the taste of her skin as I kissed and nibbled her ears, the sound of her gently mewing and the sight of her displaying physical pleasure on her face were all recalled from our previous times making out on nights together, now joined by the novel sensation on my hard cock moving in and out of her pussy in gentle strokes. In between our kisses I made the point of looking into her eyes, partly to reassure Eve that I was there for her and partly to recall the loving feelings I had for her in times past.

“Hey, Marcus,” she softly said between sighs of pleasure.

“Hey, Eve,” I replied between my own audible breaths.

“Are you enjoying this?”

“Yeah, I am. Are you?”

“Yeah. Thank you for this.”

“No, thank you.” After a little while longer of our gentle fucking, Eve spoke up. “Hey, Marcus, can I go on top?”

“Sure, why not?” I slid out of Eve and over her leg to lie next to her, and she responded by getting on her knees and straddling me. She lowered her body down as I directed my cock towards her wet pussy and impaled herself on my rigid member. We resumed our slow movements and our passionate kissing, her blonde hair now dropping over my face and giving me no escape from her fragrance. Before too long, though, she began to move harder against me, sitting up to ride me. Her tits made small jumps with each bounce on my cock while her hair flicked about with each jerk of her head as she moved her body. Her face was now grimacing as her sighs turned into louder moans, symptoms of her impending climax. Suddenly I became aware that I too was approaching orgasm.

“Oh, Marcus, I think I’m gonna…” Eve wailed.

“Come like I am about to,” I finished her words as her body seized in ecstasy. My cock erupted into her pussy and I thrust upwards into her as it throbbed. Her body continued to shudder as she climaxed, and I began rubbing her sides in an attempt to help calm her. Soon she relaxed and she bent back down over my body, placing a kiss on my lips as I rubbed her back.

“Thank you, Marcus,” she whispered. “I wanted this to be special, and you made it so.”

“Why, thank you, Eve,” I replied. “It was special for me too.”

Eve then dismounted me and laid next to me, and I rolled to face her. I cuddled her up to comfort her and kissed her briefly. I then said something I thought I had vowed not to say: “Eve, I think I might love you again.”

She closed her eyes and smiled before opening them again and replying, “Maybe. Good night, Marcus,” before reclosing her eyes and settling into sleep.

“Good night, my lovely Eve,” I whispered, half-hoping that she may have heard me.

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I woke the next morning with the clock almost near eleven, the temperature outside already approaching thirty degrees. I stroked Eve’s arm and she roused. “Good morning, dear Eve,” I said with a deliberate flourish.

“Morning, Marcus,” she replied. I brushed her hair out of her face and looked into eyes, triggering a loving feeling inside me. That feeling was soon shot down when she continued speaking. “Thank you for last night, but you know I’m not your girlfriend.”

I shouldn’t have been taken aback but I was anyway. “I’m sorry. I enjoyed last night, and I thank you very much.”

“I know you probably think it means more than it does, but I just wanted to be with someone last night. You did well, despite your fears.”

“So, what does that mean for us? We get up and pretend we were never together?” My neurosis was starting to show again.

“No, we were together, and we should cherish the fact we were together.” Eve paused before she went on. “I did promise I would help you to move on – no, it’s my New Year’s resolution to help you. Here’s what I propose: I’ll help introduce you to some girls I know. There’s a couple off the top of my head who have confidence issues like yourself, and you might at least help support each other even if things don’t work out. In the meantime, I am happy to spend some time with you alone to help you loosen up and not worry about intimacy.” She emphasised the word ‘alone’ with a hint of suggestion.

I realised the gravity of her offer. “As in a friend with benefits? A fuck buddy, as it were?”

“Basically – but don’t get your hopes up, I’m not going to be your late-night booty call. Therapeutic purposes only. Once you find your feet I’ll step back and we’ll be friends only, okay?”

I mulled over it for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I’m happy with that.”

Eve added, “Oh, and no sabotage, please. If you play funny whatsits in the hope of getting me into bed on the regular, I’ll drop you like a hot potato and you’ll have to work things out yourself. Got it?”

“Yes, Eve, I’ve got it.”

“Okay, then.” She leaned forward and kissed me passionately before pulling back. “You’ve got this, Marc. I have faith in you.”

“Thanks, Eve. I will not let you down.” I took a moment to admire her face before asking, “By the way, what was your real reason for spending last night with me? I mean, the whole night: dinner, fireworks, deep and meaningful in the gardens, not just the deeper and more meaningful in bed.”

Eve sniggered before straightening her face. “Truth is, I had a party invite but there was this one guy I knew would be there that I’m trying to avoid. Went out a couple of times, thought he was a dick, but he insists on trying his luck again. Problem is, we have friends in common, they were hosting the party and they’ve taken pity because he has no other friends. My fear was I’d go, have one drink too many and end up under him.”

“Oh, shit,” I said in sympathy, “what can you do, other than cut off those friends?”

“Not much, although I have other friends. Maybe I should just burn that bridge and let them rebuild it”

I drew Eve into an embrace; I had no interest in making out with her, only seeking to comfort her. I forgot about the smell of her hair, or the feel of her skin, or what we both did the night before, and only thought about supporting my dear friend. As I released her I glanced again at the clock and it was past eleven-thirty. I quipped, “I would have tried asking for a therapy session right now, but I think you need to be somewhere soon, so you can have the first shower.”

“Thanks, Marc. Will do.” Eve got up out of bed and I admired her naked form in the daylight for as long as it took her to get her pyjamas back on. Soon she left my room and entered the bathroom, the opening of the shower finally drawing the curtain on our night together.

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Over the following months, Eve set up a number of meet-ups with some of her friends and invited me along. Soon I was getting along well with them all, especially the two shy girls she had mentioned on New Year’s Day. Eventually, I plucked up the courage to ask one of them, a black-haired girl called Miriam, out on a date: soon we were an item and, a couple of months later, we finally slept together. We are still together to this day, and she is supportive of my plans to study overseas – she may even visit me when I am in Scotland, if only to make sure I’m not drinking too much or lusting after the local girls.

Not that I had a barren spell in between. Eve and I did have a few therapy sessions, including a whole weekend where we shared Eve’s bed. The sex was great, but it was spending time together that we enjoyed more; that weekend together had only a couple of fucking sessions, with the rest of the time either massaging each other, talking about all manner of stuff or just sleeping in each other’s arms. I felt guilty when I told Eve that Miriam and I had hooked up and that I no longer required her ‘services’.

Luckily, Eve managed to meet another guy around this time, and she finally looked like she had met her match. They are still together at this time, and I get along well with both of them, even after Eve let slip about her arrangement with me. As for the guy who had been hounding Eve, he disgraced himself that New Year’s Eve and was disowned by his now former friends.

Maybe he could benefit from someone taking his hand, talking to him – and offering him some therapy.

THE END.