Page 116 of Cover Story

Cool Girl indifference, when she was crucified by its secret appeal.What if he thought she was a bad kisser?She abruptly had the worries of a fifteen-year-old.

‘Not here, then,’ Connor said.

‘Why?’

‘Too obvious. It’ll look like we’re kissing to be seen kissing.’

‘Wewillbe doing it to be seen,’ Bel said.

‘Duh! My point is, it needs to look spontaneous and like they’re spying on us when we feel like we’re alone.’ Connor listened to the song change. ‘This’ll do. Follow me.’

In her mid-thirties, Bel was humiliatingly forced to Shazam the music more often than she’d admit to, but she recognised it: FKA Twigs’ ‘Two Weeks’. It was intense and carnal and she was now scared shitless at what she’d set in motion. She wanted to kiss Connor so much it was like every cell of her body was ablaze, but in the act of kissing him, she couldn’t have him figure that out. It was a logic pretzel and a phenomenal task, and frankly so impossible she’d just have to try to enjoy it.

Bel was glad it was happening too rapidly for her to properly break a sweat.

Connor stopped, stationing them by a pillar.

‘Let me check we’re in their eyeline. You keep looking at me,’ Connor said. ‘… Yep they’ll probably see us.’

‘I’m actually scared. Is it normal to be scared?’ Bel babbled.

‘Is this your first time kissing someone?’ Connor said.

‘I’ve never snogged the intern for a dare.’

She had to be self-protectively dismissive or she’d not be able to do this.

‘Don’t be sick in my mouth, that’s all I ask,’ Connor said.

‘I have better control over my gastric contents than to—’

‘Bel. Stop talking.’

Connor pushed his fingers into her hair, hand clasping the side of her face, and moved in, but not without a split second of hesitation as he looked into her eyes that was somehow the most heart-jolting moment of all. As their mouths met, Bel thought if she’d not already admitted to herself how she felt about him, she’d have had no chance of her determined obliviousness surviving this experience.

It was easily the greatest kiss of her life, slow but purposeful, hard but gentle, her hand on the back of his neck as she stood on tiptoes. It shouldn’t be legal to kiss like that when you looked like that. The man was a dangerous intoxicant.

For a few seconds after they parted, they gazed into each other’s eyes. Bel’s powers of second-guessing Connor disappeared entirely. She was momentarily too lost in her own response to even begin to gauge what his might be.

Where I come from, that was a once-in-a-lifetime kiss, is it in yours? Or do you call this ‘having to work on a Saturday’?

‘Are they looking over?’ Bel whispered, and Connor replied, in a low voice that turned her insides upside down: ‘I have no idea.’

64

‘Are you off the fake boyfriend clock?’ Bel said, trying to dispel any awkwardness, as she kicked her shoes off in the room.

She’d hoped the fading inebriation would carry her through the awkwardness of the Post Kiss hours without a hitch, yet it being the two of them alone already felt intimate.

They’d left the reception’s fading hours for television, caffeine and complimentary biscuits, to underline the fact they were unbothered jocular pals, yet now it felt like the opposite statement.

She’d never been in Lure Mode with Connor in all the time she’d known him. Now Bel knew what she wanted– him, in every way and at all costs– and had the forced proximity of their king-size bed and no idea if she should use it. It felt like an opportunity– but equally she was scared stiff of misreading. The stakes were suddenly Burj Khalifa high.

‘Depends. Am I still being paid or not?’ Connor said.

‘You’re getting paid?’ Bel said.

‘As it’s no longer possible to pay me in bylines I was assuming I could invoice, yes,’ Connor said, frowning. ‘I hope you don’t think this sort of service isfree?’

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