Page 116 of Off the Pitch

“For me?”

“For you.”

“You really didn’t have to, you know. I mean, I didn’t get you anything. I’m terribly sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I said, giving him a smile. “I don’t need anything. I’ve had a great time with you.”

“I’ve had a fabulous time too,” he said, the tiniest flush decorating his skin. He pulled open the bag, his smile widening as he spotted the lolly and then gasping as he retrieved the tiny stress dinosaur. “Oh! Oh, Hugo! He’s lovely. Look how tiny and squishy he is!”

Kit turned the dinosaur over in his hand, happiness radiating out of every inch of him. “Thank you so much. I’m going to call him Tim. Tim the Tiny Dinosaur. He can sit on my desk and help me while I work. I’m sure he will be an excellent companion.”

“I’m glad you like him,” I said, both relieved and pleased that my gift had been so well received. I loved making Kit smile, loved it when I could make him forget his worries and be genuinely happy. I wanted to spend every moment doing that, so that he never felt lonely or unwanted again.

“Shall we go and get some food?” I asked, gesturing towards the doors. Kit nodded, still beaming at Tim and running his fingers over the smooth rubber, almost in disbelief.

As we strolled back into the sunshine and towards a nearby collection of restaurants, I felt something brush against my fingers, and a few seconds later, I felt Kit tentatively slip his hand into mine. I squeezed his hand gently, all the while wondering whether I’d ever truly felt like this before.

Chapter Thirteen

HugoWhat would I have to bribe you with to go seeMy Neighbor Totorowith me? They’re showing it at an indie cinema near us tomorrow.

KitNothing! But toffee popcorn with peanut M&Ms mixed into it is always appreciated

Kit

The endless stretch of sunshine we’d been enjoying had finally broken, and I, for one, was glad of it.

For the past few days, London had become unbearably hot and muggy, the air as thick as soup, making me feel as if I was living in a perpetual sauna. It was disgusting, and I was phenomenally happy when I woke up to hear rain pattering against the window of Hugo’s guest room.

I stretched out, debating whether to emerge from under the pile of sheets and pillows or whether to stay put for a while. One of the best things about living with Hugo was the fact that he’d forced me to take up something resembling a normal sleep schedule, simply because I felt bad staying up ridiculously late when he’d gone to bed. It wasn’t that I felt like I was intruding, because he’d said this was my home now as much as his, it was just that it felt rude to keep very different hours to the person you were dating.

That still felt odd to say; dating.

But every time I thought to myself,Hugo is my boyfriend, my body wanted to wiggle with happiness.

The past two weeks had been like living in a dream. Nothing had been like I thought it would be. In fact, deep down I’d thought Hugo would have grown tired of me by now. Mind you, it wasn’t as if I had much to judge this experience by. My longest ‘relationship’ had only lasted two months and that was because the guy had thought I should have put out by then. And when I hadn’t… well Josh hadn’t been particularly polite about it.

That had been at university, and David had walked in at precisely the right moment. I hadn’t been afraid that Josh would hurt me, but I’ve always been terrible at standing up for myself in arguments, and the breakup had been rather cutting. I’d never seen David look so angry, and I’d actually thought he might start throwing punches. Luckily, he didn’t and the two of us went out and ate as much ice cream as we could physically stomach. Josh had never spoken to either of us again, which I had to admit had almost been nice.

But things with Hugo were different.

It was like spending time with my best friend, only better. Although I wasn’t quite sure whether that was the right way to phrase it. After all, David was also my best friend and spending time with him was nothing like spending time with Hugo.

We’d been to see the dinosaurs and to the National Gallery, where we’d been tutted at furiously by an old couple because we’d been laughing together and making up ridiculous comments and captions to go with the paintings. They apparently disapproved of the way we were enjoying the art, which I found utterly ridiculous. There was no right way or wrong way to enjoy art.

But we’d also spent every evening curled up on the sofa together, not touching but within a comfortable distance, binge-watching television shows or reading books or just talking. It was the easy domesticity that everyone said relationships should have, but that I’d never really imagined existed. Or at least, never really thought existed in my future.

My worries about the physical side of our relationship had calmed slightly, simply because Hugo continued to quietly insist that it would be up to me. The most he’d done was kiss my cheek and squeeze my hand whenever I felt brave enough to slide my fingers into his.

Although… he had kissed my knuckles yesterday after dinner, when we’d been sitting on the sofa watching television. I’d reached out to take his hand, our fingers connecting between us. He’d gently run his thumb across the skin, almost unconsciously, sending little hot pinpricks across my skin in a way that wasn’t unpleasant, but genuinely new to me. When we said goodnight, he’d lifted my hand to his lips and brushed them against my knuckles, his eyes locked onto mine. It made my mind spin and my stomach lurch, a tiny shiver radiating through me as if I had goosebumps. But I hadn’t been cold or afraid… it had been different than that. And I wanted to feel it again.

There was a soft knock at the door, distracting me from my daydreams of Hugo’s lips, as Hugo himself poked his head around the doorframe. He still looked half-asleep, his dark hair ruffled and askew, and his eyes fighting a battle to stay open. He looked beautiful though, and I suddenly had the urge to pull him into my arms and under the covers with me, pretending the day didn’t exist.

“Good morning,” he said, voice thick with sleep. “I’m going to make breakfast. Do you want some?”

“Please.” I nodded, pulling myself into a sitting position and stretching my arms, listening to my spine and shoulders crack. Such a healthy sound! “You look like you’re going to fall asleep at any second. Why are you even up?”

Hugo chuckled darkly. “I have physio this morning.”

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