The Anna Bell Rom-Com Omnibus by Anna Bell

Author:Anna Bell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction

21

This morning I’ve woken up with a huge sense of guilt and regret and it takes me a couple of seconds to backtrack through last night to remember why. Images of Cara and Vanessa pop into my mind, followed by the pitchers of margaritas. And, uh-oh – it hits me like a thunderbolt – the Sky box incident.

I can’t even revel in the accidental revenge as I’m mourning the loss of the latest season of Grey’s Anatomy that I hadn’t caught up with.

I wait for the feeling of sickness, the bedroom spin or the pounding of drums to start. After the quantity of alcohol I drank last night it’s inevitable that I’m going to feel like crap for the whole of today, if not the whole of tomorrow, too, given my hangovers of late.

I sit up slowly, cherishing what could be my last few minutes of being pain free, only to realise once I’m upright that I still feel all right.

Will had selected to go to my parents next weekend, thinking he’d be tired after watching last night’s fight and would rather chill out on the sofa watching the Grand Prix and the footie. Now, with the satellite box ruined, his plans are also ruined and it means I can still salvage the day. If it was up to me how would we spend the perfect Sunday? I can’t help but think of Robin. I can feel myself blushing a little as I imagine him padding downstairs in pyjama bottoms and no top (in my imagination he has a six-pack too). He walks into his kitchen and makes coffee from a fancy machine, before retiring back to bed with a tray of Sunday paper, coffee and croissants.

What I wouldn’t give to have a morning like that.

But what’s to stop me? Will’s still sound asleep and snoring so it looks like I’ve got time to pull it off.

I get out of bed and realise that I don’t feel too bad. I dress quickly, before my hangover has time to catch up, and decide there’s no point showering if I’m off back to bed.

I quietly go downstairs and make a cafetière of coffee, letting it percolate while I go in search of the other ingredients. After finding my handbag, I slip out of the house to complete my mission.

I get back from the local shop ten minutes later, armed with fresh croissants and a selection of Sunday papers. I plunge the coffee, pour two cups and place everything on a tray before heading upstairs.

I’m beaming with pride when I walk into the bedroom.

‘What’s all this, then?’ asks Will, rubbing his eyes. He sits up and readjusts his pillow behind his back, before propping mine up for me. ‘Let me take that. Wouldn’t want you spilling it all over me and the bed.’

He’s holding his hands out and giving me a small smile.

I know I’m probably not forgiven yet after last night, but at least he’s talking to me, which is progress.

‘Peace offering,’ I say, handing him the tray.

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