Page 13 of One Night With You

I tear the label off my empty bottle and when the small clock by the TV chimes midnight, Candice finally says, ‘My loves, if it’s all the same to you I’m going to hit the hay. I’ve got a fourteen-hour shift tomorrow.’

She stands up, forcing Jackson to sit upright and open his eyes as she pads across to Ruby to kiss the top of her head.

‘I’ll see you in the morning, babe,’ she says sleepily, and Ruby nods.

‘I’m leaving at nine,’ Ruby replies. ‘Sharp.’

Jackson lazily looks over at me and then across to Ruby, who is stretching yet again, the loose side of her T-shirt slipping down even further, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it’s for my benefit.

‘That’s me, too,’ Jackson decides. He tells Ruby he’ll makebreakfast at eight in the morning, and then asks me for my number so he can text the dodgeball team details.

‘Nic …?’

‘Sheridan,’ I say, and as I reply I look at Ruby again because he’s looking at his phone. Neither of us grins this time. We’re serious. She parts her lips a tiny amount and licks her bottom lip, her tongue gliding out and then slowly scooting back in. Jackson asks a question, but I don’t hear him even when he repeats it.

‘Yeah,’ I say, not sure what I’m agreeing to. ‘Sounds good.’

10

Ruby

He’s over on one sofa, the one by the shelves of old DVDs we’ve always said we’d give to the charity shop and have never got around to. I’m on the sofa nearest the kitchen door. The candles are burning down to their nubs and the lamp is casting moody shapes over us, and as Jackson says goodnight and pulls the dining room door to, there’s a timid pause. I look at Nic, Nic looks at me, and it crosses my mind that he might say his goodbyes as well. I don’t want him to.

‘Do you—’ he starts, right as I say, ‘Gosh, it’s almost—’

We nervously laugh.

‘After you,’ he says. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, don’t worry,’ I insist. ‘I’ve totally forgotten what I was even going to say.’

‘Oh.’

His eyes scan the room. The music quietly plays.

I’ve got nothing to lose. If he rejects me, so what? Will it kill me? No. I’ll live. Even with a dented ego, I’ll survive.Won’t I? I’m leaving town, for crying out loud. I’m never going to see the man again.

I try to take a deep breath.

‘Listen,’ he says, and my heart sinks. He’s going to go.

‘Yes?’ I ask.

‘Forgive me for being so blunt but I was thinking … wondering, really. I suppose I was hoping, foolishly, even though we’ve just met and you’re leaving in the morning …’

Oh my God.

I smirk. ‘If you’re asking if you can kiss me …’ I instigate, and he looks at me with heartfelt eyes. In that second, I know with perfect clarity that we both want the exact same thing, and I let myself pause, adding some drama. Because, sod it, if you can’t be utterly romantic and shameless and daring at a time like this, when can you? I feel like an actress in a film.

His eyebrows waver, just slightly, imploring me to finish the sentence. He might even be holding his breath.Imight even be holdingmybreath!

‘Then the answer is …’ I continue, trying my best to look coquettish from under my eyelashes, the corner of my mouth twitching in a way I hope is cute and inviting. ‘Yes, you may.’

There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, as he replies, cool as an autumn breeze and more self-assured than I’ve seen him all night: ‘I’m not asking if I can kiss you, Ruby.’

I swallow, hard. I can’t look away.

‘I’m asking if I can take you to bed.’

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