The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man by Debbie Howells EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Debbie Howells
- Language: English
- Genre: Friendship Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I’m where every girl in the world wants to be. Wandering serenely through
Tesco. In the middle of the night. And there’s no one here, which is odd…
Actually, it’s surprisingly peaceful, meandering up and down the wide
empty aisles with only some vegetables for company. But hold on just a
moment, I can hear something. Or rather someone… Holy moly. Not just
any old someone either.
A positive vision appears around the corner, a knowing smile playing on
his lips as I find myself gazing at Zac Efron and Ryan Reynolds all rolled
into one beautiful, jaw-dropping specimen.
Clinging to his lean, sculpted frame is one of those tight T-shirts that
leaves nothing to the imagination – I can make out every muscle, every
curve of his tanned, glorious body. As he comes towards me, there’s an
intense look in his dark eyes and I’m getting a funny feeling, like
goosebumps all over.
I close my mouth, smooth my hands over my T-shirt, sucking in my
tummy and attempting to look nonchalant, as though I bump into sex gods
in Tesco every day. But. Oh crap. I don’t know what to say now, because
there is no T-shirt. In fact, I’m horrified to find I’m not wearing anything at
all… Where the fuck are my clothes?
The luminous hands on my alarm clock read just before 3 a.m. when my
eyes ping open to the sound of the heaviest of April showers hammering
torrentially on our roof. I’m still blushing from the realisation that I’m
completely starkers in the middle of a supermarket, with a gorgeous
stranger giving me the once-over – except I’m not of course. I’m at home in
my bed, fantasy and reality blurred for a few delicious moments longer as I
contemplate the man of my dreams, still unmistakeably here in my head.
What a time to wake up, just when things were about to get interesting…
But by now, one thing I most definitely am is annoyingly wide awake.
Okay. So it’s not the first time I’ve had a vivid, outrageous dream and as
I lie in bed, I wait for the full-blown assault from my insecurities that
always follows. General unease then escalates into complete and unreserved
paranoia of mind-boggling proportions, while I explore the entire range of
catastrophes waiting to befall me. Bankruptcy, life-threatening illness,
divorce… because they’re all there waiting to get me.
As I lie in my favourite pyjamas (I checked, just to make sure) I toss
and turn restlessly, my imagination in full swing, at its absolute, spectacular
worst. If I’m going to dream about flaunting myself at gorgeous men, why
can’t it be on a tropical island? Or is there hidden significance to dreams
about lust among the veg aisle at Tesco’s… More likely I just have a
disturbed mind.
The warm, inert body next to me doesn’t exactly help, emitting porcine
snores at regular intervals, every so often interspersed with a particularly
hoggish one – the kind that has about four syllables – putting an end to any
hope of sleep. Arian is a world-class snorer, and not even a well-timed
elbow in the ribs has any lasting effect on the din emanating from his
nostrils.
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