Finding Mr Perfectly Fine

After I’ve showered and changed into my usual summer uniform of cropped trousers, an oversized T-shirt and sandals, I stick big sunglasses on to hide the bags of rage that developed under my eyes overnight and get into the office way before I’m supposed to start working. To my surprise, Adam’s already there, steadily working away on his Mac. He turns around when he hears me come in and the sight of him makes me stop in my tracks as Friday’s memories once again come flooding back.

‘All right, Z?’ He smirks, looking me up and down. ‘Good night, Friday.’

‘Yeah, it was OK.’ I cough without making eye contact, hurrying over to my desk, dumping my bag down. ‘What are you doing here so early?’

‘Fancied it after the gym. You?’

‘Same. Do you want some tea?’ Leaving my sunglasses on so he can’t look at my panic-stricken eyes, I go over to his desk and pick up his mug

‘I was about to make one. You log in, I’ll bring it over.’ He takes the mug from me, and as he does, our fingers brush and I feel a current of electricity shoot through my arm. Snatching my hand away and avoiding his piercing stare, I go back to my desk and busy myself with shuffling folders and papers until he returns.

What the actual hell is going on here? OK, so we had a bit of a moment on Friday but surely that shouldn’t warrant such an intense reaction? It’s Adam, for God’s sake, I rationalise. Adam who takes the piss out of me all the time. Adam who comes into work with creases and holes in his clothes. Adam who makes you laugh, the other part of my brain adds. Adam who rescued you from your unfortunate toilet mishap, all those years ago.

A few minutes later, he’s back with our teas and hot buttered toast, and to deflect from the turmoil that’s going on in my head, I grab a slice and stuff it in my mouth. He laughs.

‘You looked a bit hangry so I thought you could do with a some nourishment,’ he says, sitting on the end of my desk. Adam who brings you breakfast.

‘Thanks,’ I mumble, my mouth full. ‘That’s sweet of you.’

‘I can be a nice guy when I want to be.’ He grins, looking ultra-pleased with himself.

I roll my eyes. ‘More angry than hangry to be honest.’

‘Why, what’s up?’

The part of me that now feels weird around Adam, doesn’t want to answer. But because I don’t want him to notice the subtle change in our relationship, I take a deep breath, calm the tingles in my gut, and give him a brief rundown of my conversation with my mum. He listens without interrupting. That’s another thing I’ve learnt recently about Adam. He’s a pretty good listener.

‘I take it they don’t know about your boyfriend?’ he says wryly, watching me scoff down the second slice.

‘There’s nothing to tell them,’ I retort, gulping down my tea.

‘If you say so.’ He shrugs, getting off my table and putting our breakfast stuff back on the tray. Adam who tidies up after you.

‘What about you then? How was the rest of your weekend?’ I ask, anxious to change the subject.

‘Busy. I was out most of the time.’ A shadow passes over his face when he says this. He’s made a couple of comments like this, implying that he’s avoiding going home but I don’t feel like I can ask him why outright.

‘Doing what?’ I ask lightly, trying not to sound too nosey.

‘You’re an inquisitive little thing, aren’t you?’ He raises an eyebrow, before looking down at the napkin that has fallen by my feet. I reach over to get it, but he crouches down to do the same, and before I know it, his face is so close to me that I can feel his warm breath on my nose. My own breath catches as we both stop, mid-reach, and stare right into each other’s eyes. Nerves ripple through my body and my mouth turns dry. Once again, my body betrays me and I lick my lips. His eyes flick down to them. My heart is thrashing now, so loudly that he must be able to hear it.

‘Like I said, I get curious,’ I say quietly, trying to tear my eyes away from him.

‘Well, so do I, askim, so do I,’ he replies, his voice low and gravelly as he continues to look at me through hooded eyes.

‘Morning everyone!’ The office door is thrown open and we both jump away from each other, the spell broken.

I clear my throat and return the greeting to Alex from Housing before turning back to Adam. ‘I really needed that toast and tea. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome, askim.’ He smiles at me, and I’m reminded of how handsome he looks when he’s not being rude to me. He’s in a plain T-shirt and ripped jeans, the white fabric a brilliant contrast against his permanent tan. I look down at the crumbs on my own T-shirt and brush them off self-consciously.

‘Askim? Is that Turkish? What does it mean?’ I keep my voice loud and bright, as if the louder I speak, the quicker we can forget what nearly happened, and go back to how we usually are with each other.

‘“Loser”,’ he replies and I laugh, relieved that the fire from a moment ago seems to have been doused.

‘You can’t stay nice for long, can you “askim”?’ I tease in my best Turkish accent.

‘Well, where’s the fun in being nice all the time?’ With a wink, he turns around and lopes off to his desk and I let out a breath as quietly as I can.