Page 70 of The Truth About You and Me
MAGGIE
Jack pours us both a glass of whisky, the smoky liquid easing some of the tension. We talk about what could have happened next. He asks me more about my life, and tells me about his break-up with Vicky. There is an ease to our conversation now. We’re sitting so close. My feet tucked under me, Jack’s arm across the back of the sofa.
‘So where do we go from here?’ he asks.
‘I don’t know. Maybe go back to the pub? Ask around? Or ask the police to check out CCTV again?’
He smiles slowly. ‘I meant… about us.’
The air shifts as we look at each other, conversation falling away.
‘We all need our secrets, Jack. I’d hear your doubts, your worries… things you don’t even realise you’re thinking.’ My voice comes out in a whisper. ‘Our private thoughts should always only belong to us. That’s why this can never work.’
He moves closer still, our faces a few centimetres apart. ‘What if I don’t want to hide anything from you?’
I take a beat. ‘I’ve never wanted to touch anyone more than I want to touch you, Jack. God how I’ve wanted to. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone as much as I want to kiss you. Be held by you. But I can’t. You’d never have space, privacy. If I wanted, I could know everything about you, whenever I want. You’d never be able to hide anything.’
‘But still, even though you were locked inside a building overnight, even though I was a stranger, you didn’t.’
‘No.’
‘If I give you my permission, would you let me kiss you?’ His voice is quiet, deep, eyes lifting to mine.
I should say no.
But no words come out.
Jack’s hand moves towards my hair, he hesitates, letting it fall away. The warmth from his skin skates along my arms.
He’s even closer now; I can smell the warm earthy scent of whisky on his breath. I tighten every muscle in my body; the slightest flicker of movement could undo us. His forehead dips towards mine. This close I can see sparks of amber amongst the brown of his eyes. I swallow, unsure of opening or closing my mouth. ‘You have to be sure this is what you want.’ My voice is hoarse, my whole body shaking.
His eyesight follows his hand as he reaches for my hair. ‘I’m sure.’ He takes a lock, and curls it around his index finger. His thoughts are gentle, quiet. He hasn’t touched my skin yet but my whole body is yearning for more. He tucks it behind my ear.
One, two, three.
He lets out a low laugh, the sound close enough to my ear to send goosebumps running along the right side of my body.
Always three seconds.
‘What’s always three seconds?’ I ask, my voice scratchy, my breathing erratic. He brings his focus back to me, eyes widening.
‘You heard that?’
He takes a moment. Looks deeply into my eyes.
‘Your hair, it always falls back from behind your ear in three seconds.’
‘It does?’
He nods. ‘Is this OK?’ He reaches for it again.
‘Ye… yes.’
He smiles. ‘And this?’ He moves closer, our noses almost touching.
‘Mmmhmmm.’
‘Tell me to stop if you need me to.’
