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“Tink, why didn’t you let him stay if he wanted to? There was no harm in that.”

What did he mean by ‘he only had one night’? One night to do what?

“I made him leave as I was back to take care of you, and ‘cos I thought you had given in and boned him against my wishes. I was pissed off!”

“Well I didn’t, did I? And now you’ve upset Tudor for no reason.”

“What do you care? What’s he to you?” he quizzed, eyes boring into mine.

“A new friend, one who kindly stayed with me to let you go on a date, and you graciously kicked him out after doing so.”

Tink sighed and played with his fingers, jutting out his bottom lip. “I was protecting you. I thought he was taking advantage,” he whispered.

I moved my hand down my body. “No advantage taken. Anyway, like I’ve said a million times, he DOES NOT fancy me! He even mentioned some actress or someone he was interested in, for f**k’s sake.”

I cringed, trying not to feel the arrow through my heart at the reminder of that revelation.

Tinks eyebrows furrowed. “He did? Tater-Tot never mentioned any actress when I asked.”

Pookie? Tater-Tot. Oh, I think my best friend is about to be bitten by the love bug; he only gives out pet-names when he really likes you.

“He’s private, maybe Tate doesn’t know.” I argued.

He sighed again, theatrically this time, and grabbed me in for a hug. “Sorry Wil, I may have slightly overreacted. Are you okay?”

“Slightly? And yes, I’m fine. I have always said nothing was going on.”

“Okay, I jumped to conclusions, but you must admit it looked bad.”

“Call Tate and apologise to Tudor. Yes?”

I could hear his teeth grinding. “Fine,” he agreed reluctantly.

Stubborn as a mule!

After failing to stay in my mood with my meddling best friend for more than thirty seconds, my curiosity got the better of me. “So how was your date? Where’d you go, what’d you do, what’d you see?”

Tink’s eyes lit up and he got all mushy. He pulled the duvet back to slide under next to me and held my hand in excitement,

“Wil, it was totes amazeballs! He took me to the Calgary Tower and he had managed to hire the whole flippin’ thing. It was so romantic,” he gushed, releasing my hold and putting his clasped hands under his chin.

“We had a fabulous dinner, drank fountains of champagne and then we went to the viewing deck upstairs and, and… he kissed me. Ahh, it was a dream.” He fluttered his long lashes.

I was elated seeing him like that. “I’m glad, hun. So you like him?”

He laid back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. “I really like him, more than anyone before. I know it's early doors but I think he could be a definite keeper,” He seemed surprised at his own strength of feeling. “Did you ever think I’d feel this way about anyone, ‘cos I certainly didn’t? And so quickly too?”

I shook my head in astonishment – my slapper of a bestie tamed... oh, there’s those flying pigs!

“So what did you talk about?” I grilled.

“I’m still shocked that we did talk... we talked... actually talked about personal things. Normally, it’s meet a guy and ‘wham bam thank you ma'am’ and we go our separate ways. With Tater-Tot, it is completely different; I actually care what he has to say.”

“So, what did you discuss specifically?”

“Everything – jobs, our backgrounds, family. He has a great relationship with his mam, dad and older brother, and is really close to Tudor’s mam. I told him about my f**ked-up home life and about you and your family practically adopting me. Lots really.

“Did he talk about Tudor?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Just that he’s really private, and they move a lot for family reasons. He didn’t say much else. I have a feeling he’s been given a gagging order on the subject.”

“Mmm, probably.”

Tink shuffled his body towards me. “So, what did you two talk about during the Tudor-Tash jigsaw sesh?”

I turned away, embarrassed. “Same really – family, TV, music, his acting, nothing of great substance. Oh, he did say one thing though. He thinks you hate him.”

Tink was genuinely shocked and upset. “I don’t hate him, I don’t hate anyone. Negativity gives you wrinkles. I just don’t trust him with you. It is my job to see you don’t get hurt again, and I think he is pain and heartache all tied up in a Tudor-shaped gift box.”

“Well, go easy on him, okay? I’m not going to discuss this again. I appreciate the concern but there is nothing to be concerned about. We are drawing a line under it, capisce?”

He smirked. “Capisce.”

We shook on it. Well, slapped hands twice, blew two kisses to the side and Eskimo-kissed with our noses – our own version of a hand shake.

“So what’s the plan for today?” I asked.

“Pookie’s going to pop around, and I thought we could have a movie day.”

“Sounds good, what we watching?”

“Well, we’re starting with Priscilla Queen of the Desert, then The Rocky Horror Picture Show and maybe Mamma Mia to finish?” he proposed, seeking approval.

I laughed. “Bloody hell, Tink, do you sneeze glitter?” I teased.

He pouted and nodded. “I sure do, and I piss pink martinis! So are you in?”

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