Page 69 of Enemies to Lovers

‘Sod it,’ I say, pulling at the fabric of his shirt. His body slams into mine with such force that my bumbangs into the kitchen table, but Jamie treats it as an invitation. He scoops me up so I’m sitting, and we paw at each other hungrily, like one of us is on day-release from prison, like we’ve not seen each other in years, like we not only want this, butneedthis.

I end up on my back, Jamie climbing onto the table. He lies down on top of me, kissing and touching and running his hand below the waistband of my denim shorts, which at some point in the last thirty seconds have come undone.

‘Yes,’ I tell him, as his fingers find my most alive spot. ‘Yes.’

I writhe underneath him, his breath hot in my ear, and I must kick something, because there’s a crash, the noise of pottery hitting the floor.

‘Don’t stop!’ I implore, as Jamie freezes above me. He’s looking over at the doorway, face in a weird expression, a bit like he might be sick. I crane my neck, Jamie’s hand still between my thighs, to see … Kate. My whole body tenses, and I swear every ounce of air leaves my lungs.

‘Kate!’ I say. ‘This isn’t—’

‘I didn’t see anything!’ she interrupts, spinning round so that her back is to us.

Jamie moves his hand and I button up my shorts as he clambers off. I swing my legs over the side of the table and say, with as much authority as I can muster, ‘This is the first time anything like this has happened.’

I don’t know why I lie. It just slips out.

Kate half turns her head, but not fully. She’s already scarred by what she’s seen.

‘It’s none of my business,’ she tells us. ‘I didn’t feel well, so I didn’t go with the others … I’ve been for a walk …’ She shakes her head. She’s giving us too much information. ‘I’m going to the supermarket now. I said I’d have a late lunch ready. Bye.’ And she disappears.

I scrunch up my face at Jamie, noting that he is adorably flushed.

‘At least it wasn’t Laurie,’ he says. ‘Although if she tells him … Well, it should come from me.’

I shake my head. ‘She won’t tell him,’ I promise Jamie. ‘Not if I ask Kate not to. She said it herself: it’s none of her business.’

‘Okay.’ He sounds unsure. ‘I need to find the right words, the right time …’

‘Ssssh. Come here,’ I command him, and he steps towards me. I tilt my chin up and he gets the hint. He lowers his lips to mine and we share a chaste kiss.

‘Ihaverather lost my hard-on now, though,’ I say, my face apologetic. ‘For lack of a better term. Nothing to do with you, it’s just …’

‘Yeah,’ Jamie nods. ‘Close call.’

He swallows, finally catching his breath, and I hop up to kiss his cheek.

‘Breakfast?’ I ask, and he nods.

‘What’s it like?’ I ask Jamie, as we sit amongst a small feast that we’ve made for ourselves. This holiday basically revolves around meals.

‘What’s what like?’ Jamie replies, peeling an orange. It’s scandalous to me, how he can walk around with hands as skilled as those, peeling fruit so that his forearm muscles flex and he gets juice all over his fingers.

‘Sailing,’ I say, buttering my toast. It’s very civilised of us to be sitting here, but with Kate due back any minute, it’s for the best. Plus … I suppose Jamie and I don’t actually know much about each other, because there’s always been this weird distance. I mean, if Laurie told him to stay away from me, I guess I know why. ‘I couldn’t tell if everyone was teasing me when they said how much money you made.’

Jamie laughs. ‘Yeah, I fell on my feet there, to be honest. Although, well, there’s no way to say this without sounding like an idiot, but I don’t really need to work. My parents …’ He trails off, and it takes me a second to understand what he’s getting at.

‘That doesn’t make you sound like an idiot,’ I tell him. ‘Christ, I’m sure you’d rather have them here than have their money.’

‘Yes,’ he nods. ‘Exactly.’ There’s a silence then, but I get the sense the worst thing to do would be to change the subject.

‘What were they like?’ I say. ‘If you don’t mind me asking.’

He’s wearing his sunglasses, so I can’t see his fullreaction, but he lets air out through his nose and half smiles, so I think he appreciates being asked. I’d want to be asked, if the unthinkable happened;whenit does, I suppose. It doesn’t bear imagining, a world without my mum and dad.

‘Mental,’ he says, and then he laughs. It makes me smile. ‘They were absolutely mental. Just … I was so lucky, really. Most people’s parents were so serious to me, you know? Everything was about doing well at school and getting into a top uni, and shaping yourself to be a good working man with a good salary. But they never put value on those things. They really gave me their time, you know? Really wanted toseeme, and encouraged me to be the mostmeI could be. Mum would get on the floor and play Lego with me for hours, and Dad took me to the local reservoir for outdoor swimming as soon as I was old enough to get in. And they had all these routines and rituals. If anyone had to go away for work, or even when I had a sleepover or away-camp or whatever, we’d all sit down for Mum’s lasagne and garlic bread, first chance we were all back together.’

‘You don’t have siblings?’ I ask, although I already know the answer. It’s just that most of the stuff I know about Jamie is second-hand, from Laurie or Mum and Dad.

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