I peer back at Zane quizzically.
“It’s open late and they serve drinks,” he explains, winking and tugging me through the heavy doors.
Inside, he buys us tickets and a glass of wine each. Then, still holding my hand, he walks me into the aquarium.
Walls of glass line a long passageway, and the light sparkles a deep blue. Beyond the glass tropical fish of all shapes and sizes, colours and patterns, glide through the water. When I look up, I see the water extends over our heads as well, surrounding us completely as if we really are swimming deep under the ocean.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Yeah, and peaceful. I find it a good place to unwind.”
“You have trouble unwinding?”
“Sometimes medicine can be tough. The things you see …”
I nod, stroking my thumb over the back of his hand.
I never understood the appeal of holding hands. But now I do. This innocent touch is electric.
A stingray drifts above us and we watch, its spindly tail dragging through the water.
“I’ve never travelled outside the UK,” I admit. “I’d love to go snorkelling.”
“My family has a boat that’s moored in Greece. The snorkelling there is incredible.”
I take a sip of my wine. How many houses, boats, and cars does his family own?
A shoal of fish darts around us, and we pause, Zane coming to stand behind me and resting his hands on my waist. He nuzzles into my neck, and I lean my head to one side, allowing him the full slope of my throat.
He takes a deep inhale of my scent, and my gland tingles with the proximity of his mouth. I have a sudden urge to ask him to kiss it. But it’s intimate. Too soon. And people are milling around us.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispers into my ear as bright yellow fish soar around us.
“I’ve been thinking about you too.”
“Good things, I hope,” he chuckles. “Or are you still having doubts?”
I think I will always have doubts. It took numerous battles and going against my mum’s wishes to get to Crewmore College. I don’t want to throw it away. Especially when this could end as quickly as it’s started once he learns the truth about me.
“I just want to take things slow,” I answer.
I am a coward. What I really want is for him to press me up against this glass and kiss me hard, to touch me. But then what? He’ll discover the truth. And so I’m going to prolong the inevitable.
“Rosie, can I ask you something personal?” I nod my head, suddenly nervous. Has he worked it out? Is there something about my scent? “Are you a virgin?”
“No.”
“Did something happen to you then?”
“No,” I say, squirming slightly in his arms.
“But your experiences haven’t been great?” I don’t answer, and he kisses the tender skin under my ear. “A lot of men are shit in bed.”
I laugh, the tension bubbling out of my throat. “And how would you know that?”
“Experience”
I snap my head towards him, peering at his face. In the dark, his features are hidden, but I think he’s serious. “You’ve slept with other men?”