The rest of the day I spend in a recurring daydream about hard muscles and tattoos, multiple orgasms and words of a sexual nature. I go for a run in the afternoon to try and expel some of the sexual tension that started building in my body since he left. I run fast and hard until I'm sore but when I get home, red as a beetroot, breathing hard and dripping with sweat I'm still groaning aloud thinking about his body and how he felt inside me. Sexual tension most certainly not expelled.

Okay, and so I think I might be obsessed with him. Every time I picture and remember how he smelled, sounded and felt, my eyes close over and a small moan comes from the back of my throat. After just one night with someone? Seriously? Is this what I signed up for with him? His smell literally seems to have imprinted itself on my brain because even though I shower for a lengthy period of time I can still smell him on me. I manage to exist in a Jake filled reverie for most of the day until 6pm when Robyn calls me for details on my date with Sam.

Sam, who I'd almost managed to disappear from existence.

"Hey babe, sorry I never called earlier - spent the whole day at Dan's mums talking everything wedding. I swear she drains any and every sort of excitement from it for me. I actually feel like just buggering off and doing it in secret after today. Vegas baby? Fancy it?"

"You'd regret it forever Rob," I smile. You'd cringe every time you looked at the photos of your Elvis impersonator reverend, but sure I'll come. I've always wanted to see Vegas,"

"Ugh you're right. I want my bloody castle! Damn that woman!" She says lightly. Her and Dan's mother don't always see eye to eye, but it's mainly because they have similar personalities rather than any real enmity for each other. They both love Dan fiercely and it's become competitive now. Since Rob and Dan got engaged I've listened to her complain about his mother pushing her way into the wedding arrangements every day. Actually no, she was complaining about her doing it before that.

"You know she's making such a big deal of this because of Mark's divorce and Dan's the baby." I say, hopefully sounding diplomatic.

"I know, I know. I just wish she would extract herself a little. She's still obsessing over the name cards and bloody seating plan and whether Dan's aunt Flora is close enough to the toilet because of her arthritis. We must have spent 4 hours re-arranging everyone only to go back to my original layout. It was pointless. Anyway," she takes a deep breath "- back to you. How was your appointment with the doctor?" she drawls. For a single moment I flirt with the idea of telling her about my appointment with Jake instead. It would certainly help take her mind off Dan's mother. My sleeping with the sexy nightclub owner is a pretty big deal; big deal that she'll think is terrible and ill advised and probably talk me out of ever doing again. I don't want the judgment right now. I don't need it. I'm enjoying basking in the sexual afterglow too much to swap it for anything else. No best to keep this on message for now.

"It was fine, Sam is really sweet, but I just don't think it's going to go anywhere. I don't think it can," mainly because I'm sleeping with someone else. A hot passionate fling that will end in tears. Robyn makes a disappointed noise and I decide to go on. "I just don't want the complication at work Rob, and I don't really think Douglas would approve of two of the potential partners sleeping together. It's unprofessional," I say, hoping that my tone in no way gives away anything. I wonder if sexual subterfuge is even a thing, and if so what tone of voice it has.

"Hmmmm yeah I guess it's not the ideal time to start something with him, when one of the two of you are going to be taking over the partnership spot. Well at least you tried. Maybe you can come back to it later?" Rob muses.

"Maybe. We get on so well as friends. I think it's best to keep things platonic for now," I add for good measure.

"Yeah, you're probably right. But I really want you to get back out there Al, meet someone. Someone who deserves you. Someone passionate and special and right for you," she sounds sad. I ignore the image of Jake that's being projected on the inside of my mind - passionate and special, and right for me. Two out of three wasn't bad I suppose.

"I will. Don't worry about me so much babe - I'm good,"

"I know. Oh, and on that note, Mark asked about you today. He was there too and he just casually dropped your name into the conversation, and then asked if you were seeing anyone yet," She says sounding excited again.

I wonder how I feel about that. I always found Mark, Dan's older brother handsome in a standoffish, arrogant kind of way. I always got the impression that he was inspecting me, trying to find out my secrets. Though I always though that was just because of his job - he'd been a detective with The Met for the last five years. Though maybe he'd been inspecting me for another reason altogether?

"The divorced brother of your fiancé? Yeah babe, because that's far less complicated than the work colleague rival I went out with last night," I say.

"Oh but imagine if it worked out with you two?? We'd be sisters babe!" she squeals. Robyn already feels like a sister. Marrying Dan's brother wouldn't make a shred of difference to me.

"So when is the big dress reveal then? I honestly cant wait see it!" I ask, desperate to change the subject. I haven't seen Robyn's wedding dress yet because she bought it in New York and was being shipped over to a boutique in London in the next week or so. As head bridesmaid I'd be the first to see it when it arrived.

"It comes on Saturday. Oh Al what if I don't like it when I see it again?? What if I made a hasty decision?" she says sounding nervous.

"Then Dan will buy you a new one," we both laugh because we know it's true. Dan adores her and would buy her 10 dresses if it meant getting her up the aisle to become his wife. "It will be gorgeous though sweetie. I know it," I absently twirl the end of my hair inspecting the ends. I really need a trim. I wonder if I'll ever go wedding dress shopping.

"I just wish you'd been there. You're my style guru. I'm scared it's out of style now you know, dated?" She really was worrying about this for nothing. I have no doubt that it will be stunning, I know the shop in Manhattan where she bought it and it's couture. Plus Robyn would look stunning in a potato sack.

"Rob it will be gorgeous - I can't wait to see you in it. So next Saturday then is it?"

We finish up with me saying I'll call through the week to confirm. I'll have the situation with Jake sorted out much clearer in my head by then too and will be in a much better position to discuss it with her. At least that's what I'm hoping. I never could hide anything from her. She knows me too well.

Later that night I'm wondering why he hasn't called to arrange our date yet when I realise that only a crazy desperate person would be wondering that. He's been out of my house precisely 8 hours and I'm wondering why he hasn't called yet? Seriously?

Then I realise that since I'm counting the hours since he left my house, I am a crazy desperate person.

When I get back to the office at 3:30pm after my Monday house calls, he still hasn't called.

That's when I begin to think that maybe I'm not going to hear from him at all. That maybe the "see you soon" comment was just his way of being polite. The date thing too? Maybe that's just what one-night standees say to each other as they leave you post-orgasm in the kitchen? Sort of like when you say, "Let's keep in touch" to an old school friend you have absolutely no intention of keeping in touch with. But then I remember the look in his eyes when he said that this wasn't a one-night stand. What the hell is he playing at? Typical bloody male, staying away and playing mind games, making you doubt, question and over-analyse everything. Except I do that anyway. Christ how does Leigh cope with this? How can she deal with the mental stress of wondering whether a guy is going to call or not? I haven't been through this sort of thing for years. 8 to be precise.

As I pass reception Anna gives me a knowing smile which I can only assume it's to do with Sam and our date. He must have told her. I knew Anna and he were friendly but not to the point of swapping date gossip. Great. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. Knowing looks and tilted heads and silent "awww, poor Sam" comments between the girls on the desk. Sam inspires a certain kind of protectiveness in other females. They find him sweet and lovely guy. I'll be the scarlet woman come Friday I'm sure. I smile back awkwardly and head for the shelter of my office closing the door tightly behind.

I almost gasp at the sight waiting for me on my desk. A large bouquet of red roses sitting proudly in a vase. Oh god please don't let them be from Sam, please don't let them be from Sam. My heart starts beating too quickly as I walk over and open the sealed card clipped into the middle of the bouquet. Handwritten again.

//How many other colours do these come in...? P.S

Thanks for breakfast yesterday - very tasty... See you soon. J//

The heat breaks out across my whole body, rippling and warming my insides. He sent me flowers, and an innuendo. And he wants to see me soon. It wasn't a polite brush off. I tell myself that I never really had any doubt about it. I feel like jumping up and down on the spot like an over excited toddler. I fish my phone out of my bag and deliberate far too long over the words and the tone and whether I should end with a kiss or not. He sent flowers. Twice. He made me orgasm. 4 times. He gave me oral sex in my kitchen. A kiss at the end of a text is hardly an overshare. He likes me. He wants to see me soon.

//They're beautiful, thank you. Breakfast was...my pleasure... Ax//

Okay, I really need to be (partially) sensible here. Think about this, sensibly.

Cons: I need to be aware that I'll most likely get hurt by him. He is not boyfriend material. He's a player. He could break my heart. But isn't that always the case when deciding to get involved with anyone? Couldn't any potential suitor break your heart? That isn't a good enough reason to forgo it entirely. Otherwise where would we all be. Alone with pets. Most probably of the feline variety. The potential for heartbreak is a surmountable possibility that I'm sure I'm emotionally secure enough to deal with when it happens. I have experience in that department. I'll get over him.

Pros: He's gorgeous, charismatic, passionate and amazing in bed. Ok, of course I know that none of that is enough to sustain a relationship long-term but this isn't a relationship. This was a.... A sharp knock on the outside of my office door pulls me from my thoughts.

"Yes, come in,"

Sam pokes his head round the door. His shy smile all but disappearing when he sees the bouquet on my desk. Ok, how to explain this one? Another grateful patient?

"You really must be an amazing GP," he says shifting slightly on his feet and leveling his stare at me.

"Not really..." I say feeling awkward. Sam just nods, and the silence seems to stretch forever. I feel horrible. I'm a horrible person.

"Sam, I-," I start.

"Look Alex-," He starts, and then gestures for me to go on. Of course he lets me speak first because he's polite like that.

I take a deep breath. "Okay. Well firstly, I had a really nice time with you on Saturday. It was really nice," I take another deep breath. "But I just... Well I spent the weekend thinking about how..." I don't want to be touched by anyone except Jake Lawrence right now, or for the foreseeable "...you and I work so well together here. And get on so well. I just don't think it would be good for work, or the partnership for us to get involved. You know? Like that. I hope that makes sense," I offer him a small awkward smile.

I meant everything I just said. It's the truth. Okay, there is also the Jake shaped side issue on top of what I just said but it was how I always felt about seeing Sam outside of work, before Jake happened. I try and gauge Sam's thoughts. His composed face has a look of slight disappointment, but not animosity. Thank god. Sam nods slowly before he speaking.

"I understand Alex.... Thanks... For being honest with me," He says softly, holding my eyes. I'm not being honest. Not totally anyway. I feel guilty. I shift my eyes away from his. "And for the record. I had a really nice time on Saturday too."

When I look back up he's smiling softly. "I hope things don't change. I really don't want things to be strange between us,"

"Nah, and they wont be. I promise. Just bad timing I guess," he shrugs. "No one to blame for that but myself,"

After he leaves I think about it a little more. Though I feel guilty for misleading Sam, I know that even if Jake hadn't come crashing into my house or my life on Saturday, Sam was never going be the guy I ended up with. My phone goes off with the text message alert.

//No baby, it was my pleasure - trust me. So I was going to take you out on Saturday but I cant wait that long. I want to see you tonight. I'll pick you up at 7 Jx//

He wants to take me out tonight? Christ, it's 4pm already. Way to catch me off guard Lawrence. I have two more appointments this afternoon and my meeting with Douglas and the other GP's is scheduled for 5pm. No, a 7pm pick up is far too much of a tight squeeze. By the time I finish up here, get home, debate an outfit I wont have any time to groom myself. I text back that I will be ready by 8pm. To which I receive the response:

//No changing,no moving, no cancelling. See you at 7. Jx//

I should be indignant at his demanding, unreasonable tone but I'm not. I can't wait to see him. I have butterflies already - as in butterflies that a grown woman should be embarrassed about. I finally get out of Douglas's office just before 6pm, always somehow being the last to leave as he insists on chatting to me about Dad. They're old friends and play golf once a month together. He's showing me out of the office when Sam exits his.

"So what about all these flowers that keep arriving for you then Alexandra? Hmmm?" Douglas says raising an eyebrow. "Somebody important we should know about?" he finishes with a wink.

Sam is still within earshot so I just shake my head nonchalantly in a hope that he wont push it any further. "Ah like that is it. Well I'll just have to press your dad for some details on Saturday then! See what he has to say," He laughs and heads back into his office. Dad and Douglas's monthly golf Saturday is this weekend - great. That's all I need. Dad questioning me about regular bouquets of flowers being sent to my office. I can't lie to Dad. Not ever. I can't tell him Jake is a fling kind of thing because who says that to their Dad? And I can't say that he's anything more than that because then there will more questions and invites to dinner. I need to tell Jake to stop sending flowers. I'll do that tonight.

The journey home takes me 40 minutes because of a contraflow on the A3. While I'm sitting in the jam I'm tempted to text and try and push him to 8 again but I decide against it. I will just have to be quick, very quick, and if I'm not ready then he'll just have to wait. I rush into the house feed, kiss and cuddle Fred before dashing upstairs to shower and change. I have 20 bloody minutes. Twenty minutes to scrub and preen and pick something to wear. I'm stressing. I let the shower run whilst I throw some potential outfits on my bed. Where is he likely to take me? A date. Dinner he said. Well that narrows it down. I hate not knowing where I'm going. I could end up totally underdressed or worse - completely overdressed. I really don't need these extra nerves. Clothes are my thing. I always know what to wear. I'm good at clothes and appropriate clothing for the occasion. Summer dress for picnic, fitted work dress / blazer for a conference, and LBD for a dinner party. I know how to dress and Jake is throwing me off kilter. Just the thought of seeing him on its own is making me buzz with the sort of nervous excitement I haven't felt in years. I haven't had nerves like this since my first date with Ben, who at the time was a charming older consultant at the hospital during my residency. I have few less favorable adjectives to describe him now. Lying cheating bastard spring to mind immediately. But at least I knew where he was taking me on our date. Kyoko Japanese & Teriyaki Restaurant - Damask shift dress and wedge heels. I inwardly cringe at the thought of a damask shift dress but then it was 2006 and things were different then.

I'll have my shower first and then decide what to wear. I can't stand here debating at the cost of cleansing. I allow myself 10 minutes to exfoliate and lather myself in my most expensive shower gel and shampoo and then smother myself in Jo Malone body butter. Whilst it's absorbing I decide on a demure chiffon peach coloured Calvin Klein dress with a brown leather belt. It's a warm night and I'll wear tan sandals and keep my legs bare. That should work in a restaurant or bar. Not in a kebab shop in Hackney though should he decide to take me there. It wouldn't work there. I decide on a peach lace underwear set a few shades lighter than my dress, which I also got from my favourite boutique in Paris. As I put it on, a shiver runs through me at the thought of him taking it off later. Can I even sleep with him on our first date? I mean since I already have? God I needed Leigh for this kind of thing. I keep my make-up neutral with a peach eye shadow, pale lip-gloss and finish by drying my too long hair straight and boring, and leave it down about my shoulders. I surprise myself by being ready for 10 past 7. Not bad.

Then I wonder where the hell he is. He's late.

I check my phone as I go downstairs to pour myself a glass of Riesling, but there's nothing. He wouldn't call or text if he was driving anyway so I'll assume he's on his way. Then I remember the contraflow and relax a little. Not his fault I suppose. Ten minutes later I finish my wine and look at my watch, which tells me it's 7:25pm. I lift the most recent copy of The Lancet from the basket under the coffee table and start to flick through the pages whilst my head starts to swirl with the possibility that I'm being stood up as some sort of twisted payback for Saturday. He wouldn't dare. Would he? No way. I certainly wont lower myself to stand at the window watching for him. I go into the kitchen and pour myself another glass of wine. I need it to calm myself down. The anticipation of seeing him is taking on the extra weight of nerves and slowly piquing anger at his tardiness. I don't need this. I take a few huge gulps and feel the effects straight away as it begins to soften the muscles at the back of my neck and lift of the weight of irritation. Then a wave of lightheadedness washes over me and I feel tipsy. Probably due to the fact that I haven't eaten since 12:30 this afternoon and my dinner date is late.

I've never been stood up in my life, ever. Okay, granted I haven't been on scores of dates but of those I have been on, I've always been on them with another person. If he thinks to be the first then he is completely and utterly mistaken. Oh what if something's happened to him? What if he's been in an accident and I'm standing here whin - then doorbell goes. I let out a sigh of relief and look at up the clock. Is 30 minutes is ridiculously late or just slightly rude? I take my time walking slowly to the front door. I stop by the mirror in the hall to check for obvious signs of worried-I-was-being-stood-up face. My cheeks are slightly flushed, but that's just the anticipation and the wine and in any case it gives me a healthy bright appearance. I look pretty. Demure and pretty. Not worried I was being stood up.

I take a deep breath and reach for the handle. I decide to go for playfully annoyed. I can't have him thinking I've just been sitting here waiting for him, thinking he wasn't coming. Of course he was coming. Why wouldn't he come?

When I open the door his head is down and he's stands back from the door with his hands in his pockets. When he lifts his head up my heart falters slightly. Of course he looks ridiculously gorgeous from top to bottom.  He also looks apologetic and a little uncertain, but when he meets my eye the apologetic look vanishes and is replaced with something else. Something I've seen before.  Desire. Lust.  I flush from head to toe and my body begins to feel like it's being pulled forward, towards him.

He lets out a breath as he looks me over. "Fuck," He says quietly.