I’d offered her friendship and support then had snatched it away the minute there was a suggestion of something more than friendship. Yet where had that suggestion come from? Kirsty bloody Griggs! It wasn’t like Jemma had been flirting with me or that she’d given me any indication that she wanted to be anything other than mates. It was Kirsty who’d planted that idea and my own guilt that had given it wings. What was wrong with me? I’d craved friendship, I’d got it, and I’d thrown it away. Idiot!

I sat on the sofa with the phone beside me, debating whether to text her again and tell her to ignore me and of course I’d go home next weekend and meet her mum. An hour later, I was still going round in circles about whether or not it was a good idea when my phone illuminated with another text:

✉︎ From Jemma