[Complete] Noise and Kisses {chicklit}

9

The next day I wake to find my phone full of missed calls and a solitary message from Ben.

Answer your phone

The best course of action is to just ignore him. I was warned against him by Pete – I knew he was no good. Still, in the back of my mind I thought we had some kind of connection. Clearly, I was delusional. I run my hands over my face and groan at my stupidity. Why did I get so angry? I need to keep reminding myself that I barely know him!

After spending an hour mooching around in my room, I head downstairs for some much-needed coffee. Walking into the kitchen, I see a note from mum letting me know that they've gone to the farmers market. As always, there's coffee in the pot, so I pour myself a cup and sit at the bar. To cheer myself up, I put on some Harry Styles.

I relax into a bar stool and bop away to the music until I hear the doorbell ring. Opening the door, I see Ben standing there awkwardly. I go to close it, but he wedges his foot in to stop me. Sighing, I open it again.

"What?" I ask, my hostile tone surprising him. He looks very hungover and pretty sheepish.

"Good morning to you too..." he croaks.

"Seriously? I haven't got time for this shit." I continue.

"Yeah, you seem busy... is that Harry Styles I hear?" He jokes and half–smiles, nervously. My heart hitches at how uncomfortable he seems, and I groan, opening the door to let him in.

"You've got two minutes."

I walk towards the kitchen and hear him close the door and follow behind me.

"Coffee?" I ask, half-heartedly.

"Please."

I pour him a cup and place it on the bar in front of him with an almighty thud. Ben winces and I roll my eyes. My conscience still intact, I grab him a couple of ibuprofens and place it down on the counter in front of him. He smiles and lightly nods a thanks.

"What do you want, Ben?"

"To say sorry... for last night."

"I've heard that a couple of times now. How about not being a dick in the first place?"

He raises his hand to his forehead and sighs. "Fair point."

"Why do you even care, anyway? You made it pretty clear where we stand last night." I say, still hurt by his words.

He runs his hands through his hair again and exhales deeply. "Look - I don't know why I'm such a prick. I don't do relationships, if you didn't already know - that's not against you... but..." he sighs, "for some reason, you've got under my fucking skin."

I finish the last of my coffee and walk back over to the pot, my heart racing at his admittance.

I try desperately to play it cool. "Look, you can do whatever you want. I shouldn't have reacted like that yesterday... I blame the champagne. Our mates are dating, so there'll be times we need to see each other. But we're not friends – you said so yourself... so don't worry about it." I say, pouring another coffee.

"Well, then let's change that..." he says, still a little croaky.

"No, really, it's fine." I insist, stirring some sugar into the cup. Inwardly, I'm a little thrilled at his suggestion.

"Oh, come on! What about a trip around the common for our first friendly excursion?"

I roll my eyes. "Honestly, I'm not some sort of charity. Don't hang out with me because you feel bad, or something."