Sorry that I havent added any more chapter recently, it's the weekend though so more is coming your way! :) Sorry this is such a short chapter! x

"Did you like your dress?" asked Mum, sitting down and tucking into her sandwich that I had just whipped up for her. "Yes, it's gorgeous! Why can't I go with you, Mum and Ted straight to the benefit later?" I asked, turning and frowning. Mum laughed and swallowed her food.

"You look so much like your Father when you frown." I ignored her comment and realised that I wasn't going to get anything out of her. I carried on chopping vegetables for my lunch, careful not to cut my hands like Ian did once.

4 months ago...

"Shit!"

I clambered from my laptop and ran into the kitchen to sea Ian holding his hand with blood oozing from his finger. "You idiot," I muttered, smirking as I grabbed a plaster from a drawer, unpeeling it and bringing his hand towards the sink. He cleaned his finger and I slowly wrapped the plaster around his cut and he kissed my head as I did so.

"So, I'm guessing the chopping isn't going great?" I asked, smiling as I look over at the mess on the chopping board. There are bits of pepper here and there, some edible parts with seeds all over them, and the tomatoes... lets not even go there. I laugh and begin to sort them out, and suddenly Ian wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the back of my neck.

"Hey, do you want this stir fry or not?" I ask, budging him away as he continues his tantilising torture down my neck. I squirm at his touch and drop the knife, carefully. He turns me around viciously and pulls me into his arms, and our lips meet, our tongues intertwining with one another as we kiss passionately. The stir fry can wait. I kiss him and he pushes me onto the sofa, me on top and him below. Suddenly, he sits upright dragging me with him and he peels off my top so I'm a sat in my bra and sweats. I continue to kiss him as he fondles my breasts. He slowly undoes his jeans and hooks his fingers into my sweats.

"Baby, don't," I whisper as he kisses my neck, sucking and biting as he goes. He carries on pulling my sweats down and I sit upright staring at him.

"No. Don't. I'm not ready, Ian." I frown down at him and he smiles, raising his head up and kissing my nose.

"Come on, make me my food," and with that he hits my backside, making me squeel and jump. I grab my top and slide it over my head and continue cooking. Oh, how I love him. But I think it's too soon. I'm not ready. Do I love him?

I turn suddenly to see that my Mum has gone and I'm alone cutting nothing. Just the board. Jesus... Ian! What he does to me. My mind rolls through what happened on Saturday and I regret even thinking of going out with him.

"What are you cooking?" I hear behind me. I turn and see Daniel observing me with his utmost care. What does he want?

"Food," I mutter, not thinking before I spoke. Food?! He's not an idiot like you, Grey. I pout at him as he smirks. He looks down at the board and notices blood smeared across the knife.

"Shit, Phoebe your finger!" he shouts and I look down at my hand. Sure enough, there is blood dripping from my finger and I sigh. Never mind. I'm not bothered.

"Oh..." I sigh.

"Oh? Come here." He grabs my good hand and grabs a plaster and wraps my finger carefully, his skilled hands rubbing mine. "I think that's enough cooking for you, Miss Grey. You might end up stabbing something else if you don't concentrate." I giggle as he finishes wrapping my finger in the plaster. He suddenly brings my finger to his lips and kisses it. "There, all better," he whispered, a gleam in his eyes. How inappropriate but... loving. I scowl at him for doing that but a ghost of a smile appears on my lips and he drops my hand. "I'm to take you later on this evening. Six o'clock would be a good time to be ready, Miss Grey – sorry... Phoebe."

"Thank you, Daniel." He walks swiftly away and I smile. Wow... every time I see Daniel, or even think about him, Ian leaves my head completely and I feel different with him than I did with Ian. I feel somewhat complete. Phoebe, stop thinking of men you'd never get and get cooking! I scowl and get back to chopping. Dammit, why is it that when I think of Ian I end up hurting something, either myself or my feelings.