Page 47 of One Night With You

‘The Year of Me, isn’t it?’ I say.

‘Well remembered,’ she replies, impressed, turning her head to me and holding eye contact momentarily.

‘I’m like an elephant,’ I say.

‘What else haven’t you forgotten?’

‘Hmm, let’s see,’ I muse. ‘The fact that when we met you weren’t wearing a bra … and that you look very good wearing my clothes and making hot chocolate. Or wearing my clothes and sitting outside a party on a picnic bench,’ I add, stealing a sideways glance at her.

‘And here I was thinking we’d get into the government’s new economic policy, or unpicking the sartorial reasonings behind male ear piercings,’ she quips, and then she nibbles the corner of her own lip, like she knows she’s being cheeky.It’s so hot I feel a stirring in my pelvis. She’s just … fucking gorgeous, man. ‘We’re just going right into it, are we? No shame.’

‘Right into what?’ I ask, feigning innocence. ‘You were the one who asked what I remember …’

‘And now we’re talking about our thoughts on the night we slept together.’ She sighs.

‘I’m offended if you ever stopped thinking about it.’

‘I didn’t.’ Her face is unreadable and thus proves my point about oscillating between the ridiculous and sublime. Whatever mood she’s in, though, I’m here for it. I’m struggling to keep up, but the challenge is intoxicating.

‘Well I’m glad then,’ I bat back. ‘It’s not a spoiler to remind us both that we were pretty good at what we did …’

‘No spoilers but the chlamydia was a nice plot twist.’ She laughs, gently.

‘Clean as a whistle now, though,’ I counter.

‘And what am I supposed to do with a whistle again …?’ she shoots back, and her provocativeness renders me speechless. She chuckles, knowing she’s scored a point.

‘You’re doing that blushing thing with me again aren’t you?’ I ask.

She nods. ‘Is it working?’

‘I’m a man of the world now,’ I say, stretching out my words like I don’t have a single care, let alone have ruffled feathers because of the beautiful woman beside me. ‘Four months in London will make a chap streetwise and ready to play.’

She cocks her head at me. ‘You do seem kind of different, you know.’

‘Really? I was only kidding.’

‘You seem …’ She tries to find the word. ‘I don’t know. Happy?’

I shrug and think about how to respond. So much has happened since this summer. I’ve found my stride, making me as proud of myself as Ollie said he is of me. I suppose if there are two types of people in the world – those who talk about doing, and those who do – I’ve been feeling pretty excellent about being a doer.

‘Sometimes I feel a tiny bit different,’ I admit, self-consciously. ‘Don’t kill me for bringing this up – you know,again –but that night here, the night before you left? Something clicked for me. I just had so much fun, and I realised that if I kept saying yes to everything that comes my way, maybe that was the point of it all. It’s been cool. Meeting people, exploring the city.’

She sucks in her cheeks as if to stop herself smiling. ‘Is that all I was then? An adventure?’

I laugh at that. ‘Ruby,’ I say. ‘You’re an epic poem of the seas.’

She laughs too. ‘I don’t even know what that means, but nice save.’

‘Thank you.’ I take a small bow from where I’m sat.

‘Jackson says you’re very lucky with the ladies of late,’ she says. ‘That must be nice. Dating and whatnot.’

I narrow my eyes. ‘This feels like a trap, Ruby Powell.’

‘It’s not!’ she insists, but maybe it is. I can’t tell if she’s getting the lay of the land so it’s safe for her to keep being so inflammatory or she wants to write me off as being just another cad unworthy of her time.

‘Well, let me tread carefully here anyway,’ I say. ‘Yes, I have been … well, not dating. Meeting people. Sometimes I even enjoy it.’

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