Page 50 of Hot to Go

I can’t quite believe that just happened.

And just like I can’t believe that I’m here, in Suzie’s flat, sitting on a very new teal corduroy sofa. And that just wasn’t some random kiss. This is Suzie. This is someone I thought I had lost. This is, according to Brooke, stars aligning and the universe speaking. And we’ve cleared this all up. We know what happened now, there really is nothing getting in our way from being together. I felt that spark between us in that classroom, I felt it in every inch of me, that familiar banter bouncing between us, the yearning and craving for her again. It all makes sense. I look around her flat, the jaunty angles of her matching throw cushions, a few photos on a shelf, one which looks like her and all her cousins. I tilt my head to one side to look at her reading habits. David Nicholls, I read that one on holiday.

‘Hola,’ I say, as she re-enters the room with two bottles of beer.

‘Bonjour,’ she replies, smiling.

I can’t quite look away from her, not quite believing that’s the same naked girl from those rocks on the beach and she’s here. All the little things I remember about her still remain, theway she bites the edge of her thumbnail, a little freckle just above her upper lip. She comes to sit next to me and clinks the top of my bottle.

‘So, this is where you live?’ Good work, Don Juan. Of course this is where she lives otherwise why would we be here? I think I might be nervous.

‘Yeah,’ she replies. ‘It’s been about three months now.’

‘I like your curtains? Where are they from?’ I ask her. My sexy talk seriously knows no bounds.

‘Dunelm. They were made to measure.’

‘What colour would you say that is?’

‘I think it’s seafoam,’ she replies.

There is no innuendo here is there? I don’t know what to do next so I turn to her, our knees touching. I need to choreograph this a little better. I take her bottle of beer and go to put the bottles on a side table.

‘Could you use a coaster?’ she asks me.

‘Of course,’ I tell her, understanding why. That’s a new table and condensation would not be great for it. I put the bottles down and return to her. There was spark in that classroom, we can recreate it again. I lean forward, putting a hand to her cheek, before kissing her gently. She kisses me back. But strands of her hair graze against my face. I pull back. ‘Tickles,’ I say. She looks at me strangely, half laughing but goes back to kiss me, cupping her hands around my chin.

Don’t get me wrong, the kissing is nice but something is different. Maybe both of us are anxious or I’ve spoiled this by asking about her curtains, but there’s something missing. In that classroom, the words flowed so nicely, the back and forth, the anticipation of something more but that doesn’t seem to be replicated here.

‘Do you want to…?’ I ask.

I see the look in her eyes. I kiss her neck instead, hoping it might stir something, to feel the curve and warmth of her skinunder my lips. She lets out a noise. I know that noise. That noise is polite, but it’s not into this. I look into her eyes trying to work her out. But she leans over and reaches over my groin area, rubbing against my crotch. OK, she does want this? Let’s do this. We did it in Mallorca and we were good at it. Shall we go to the bedroom? She’s unzipping my trousers so maybe we can do it here. This is a ground-floor flat. Will people be able to see in? I’m overthinking this. I’m not in the room.

I unbutton my trousers as she still kisses me, fumbling with buttons and flies, doing my best to give her access. ‘Is that OK?’ she asks, as she grabs on to my penis. That’s always pleasant so I nod, smiling. I don’t want to ask for too much. But I remember a moment in a villa where she held on to it and licked the side of it and I thought I was going to explode with desire. I close my eyes to think back to that but I should be here, now. With her.

She stops, looking me in the eye. ‘Do you have a…’

‘Condom? Of course.’

Is it awful that I always have one in my wallet? Is that presumptuous? I faff around with the back pocket of my trousers to get it and rip it open with my teeth, putting it on slowly and deliberately. Even this feels slightly awkward. In Mallorca there was laughter, her kissing me as I did it, doing it for me herself, watching my face as her hands glided over me.

When she sees it’s on, she starts to roll her tights and knickers down to her knees. ‘Hold up, I’ll just take these all off so it doesn’t get in the…’

‘Yep,’ I reply. ‘Good idea.’

We both take off the clothes covering our bottom halves, in a strange and routine way like two people undressing in a changing room. I want to be tidy and not just toss my belongings around randomly so I fold my trousers and underwear neatly and place them on a sofa arm. Then we both sit there for a second, half naked. My naked arse is on her sofa and it’s brandnew. I don’t know why I’m thinking about that. She then leans back into the sofa, putting her knees up. ‘Yeah?’

‘Umm, yeah?’

OK, we’re doing this. I climb on top of her, trying to angle myself correctly as she pulls her skirt around her waist. Should we get more naked? I’ll let her take the lead on that. I slide a hand over her vagina. Yeah, she’s not very aroused. I don’t know how to feel about that.

‘Do you want me to go down on you…?’ I ask her, sitting back.

‘Or I could…’ She puts a hand down and fingers herself gently and quietly, looking slightly ashamed that she’s not as aroused as me. I am aroused and evidence of that is sitting between us quite awkwardly. Should I kiss her? Hum a tune? I don’t know how to break this unease and it’s slowly killing me. ‘Yeah, just let’s go and I’ll get into it.’

I don’t know what that means. She lies back on the sofa and I hold the base of my penis, lying on top of her, entering her gently. We both sigh at the same time. OK. Please remember how good we both were at this. Maybe we just don’t have enough vitamin D in our systems. It’s only about fifteen degrees outside. I kiss her, hooking an arm under one of her knees, maybe I just need to hit that right spot, get deeper.

‘Maybe a little left,’ she tells me.

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