Page 31 of Never Date a Celebrity

“Define it? Jesus, you have been out of the dating game for too long.” Piper stepped forward. “There are levels, Immy.”

“Levels?”

Piper nodded. “Uh-huh. Sexy touching levels. Okay.” She set herself like she was a lecturer about to address a class full of students. She held up a finger. “There are five. Level one. Innocent touching. You know, the sweet things. Fingers through the hair. Hands down the arms, the back. Fingers interlocked. That sort of thing.”

“What are we talking about?” Niamh asked with interest as she returned and leaned her back against the bar.

“I’m being educated on sexy touching levels,” Imogen told her.

Niamh’s expression turned knowing. “Ah, fair enough. Piper is all about the levels. What one are we on?”

“Going on to number two,” Piper said, holding up an extra finger. “Which is basically all of level one, combined with some subtle grazes of more intimate areas. I.e. Boobs and bum. Nothing major. Just some light, passing contact.”

Imogen felt her cheeks heat up. They might have reached a level two. At one point during their kiss, there had been hands just about everywhere. “What’s level three?”

“Level three involves more deliberate touching of those intimate areas. Heavy petting, grabbing, some squeezing. That sort of thing. Also, full body contact comes into play. Were boobs pressed together? Maybe even a little over the clothes grinding?”

Imogen recalled a bit of an ass grab, and there was definitely bodily contact. They couldn’t get their bodies pressed together close enough. But overall, most of their touches had remained innocent enough. “I already know that we didn’t, but dare I even ask what reaching a level four entails?”

Piper gave her a wicked grin. “Skin on skin. Hands reaching underneath clothes. Maybe even dipping beneath underwear and—”

Imogen held up a hand. “No elaboration needed, I get it.” She blew out a breath. She never had been as relaxed talking about these types of things as Piper was. Though she doubted many people were as open as Piper. “And I’m guessing level five is—”

“Sex.” Piper nodded. She trailed a hand through the air. “Hands, mouths, bodies—the full intimate experience. So?” She raised her eyebrows. “What level was the clifftop sexy touching?”

Imogen knew that her cheeks were now blazing, but she’d tell them anyway. These were her best friends, and they told each other everything. “I think I would call it a two point five.”

Piper snorted a laugh. “Oh, Immy. Trust you to come up with your own level.”

“Well, most of it was innocent enough,” Imogen said defensively.

Piper held up her hands. “I’m not slagging. Between a two and a three on a first date is an excellent foundation for future dates, if you ask me. Going too far too soon can ruin things.”

“Oh yeah. Because you never pull a level five on a first date,” Niamh said to her dryly.

“What can I say? Sometimes a quick level five is all I’m looking for,” Piper replied with a shrug. “Second dates aren’t for everyone. But they are for Immy.”

Niamh hummed her agreement. “That is true, Imogen’s never been a one-date wonder. And going to level two on the first date means that you must be really into this woman.”

Imogen let out a blissful sigh. “I do like her a lot. I keep thinking about her and feeling all giddy inside. How has this happened to me? Imogen King, hater of relationships and all things romantic?” Out of the three of them, she was the least likely to meet someone—mainly because she wasn’t open to it. Or hadn’t been until now. Piper, on the other hand, met women all the time. Dating was her thing, and she was very open to meeting all types of women. Not like Niamh, who had painfully high and perhaps even unreasonable expectations. Niamh did still put herself out there though, and went on dates from time to time, but she was always quick to find something wrong with them. She had an idea of her perfect partner in her mind, and she refused to compromise or deviate from it.

“The best things happen when you least expect it,” Piper said, and she was right. Imogen would never have expected the woman of her dreams to walk right into their bar and ask her out and effortlessly pull her right out of her rut.

Was woman of her dreams a stretch too far? Amy certainly seemed like a very good dream anyway. The kind that you woke up from feeling all warm and fuzzy afterward.

“Have you spoken to her today?” Niamh asked.

“She texted me good morning, but she’s working all day, so she won’t have a lot of time.” It had been nice to wake up to a message from someone who wanted to wish her a good day. Imogen had forgotten about some of the nice things about dating someone. She’d let herself get so dragged down by all the negativity of her last relationship, that it had become difficult to remember the good parts. Amy was slowly starting to remind her. And enlighten her about the parts that Imogen had always been missing.

“She’s clearly much busier than we are then,” Niamh said ruefully.

Imogen looked around the pub. It was Sunday afternoon, which was prime drinking time in Ireland, and only three tables were occupied. One by Willy and Tim—neither of whom were known for splashing the cash. Another by Mel the hairdresser who came in every Sunday with her mum and aunt—they usually ordered a round each, so that was good at least.

Imogen didn’t recognise the couple at the other table, which meant they probably didn’t live in Ballyluck but had miraculously decided to visit—hopefully, they liked it enough to return. Imogen would offer them a refill soon and ask them about their day. Sometimes a simple, friendly conversation was enough to make people want to come back. The tipsy duo had gone, which was probably a blessing because glasses weren’t cheap to replace. Especially not when everything else needed replaced too.

Imogen thought back to a conversation that she and Amy had got into on their walk back the day before. After complimenting Imogen’s picnic choices, Amy had made an interesting suggestion that maybe they could serve something similar in the Wishing Well. Imogen had to admit she thought it was a good idea. Make them appeal to a wider clientele. “How would you guys feel about serving food?”

They both turned to look at her.