Page 77 of The Truth About You and Me
‘I’d… yes. I think I would quite like to “cuddle”. Promise me, you’ll say if you need space though?’
‘You mean if I start thinking inappropriate thoughts about what I would like to do to you?’
Heat rushes over my skin.
‘You’re blushing,’ he says, looking at me with a mixture of desire and amusement. ‘I promise to try and keep my mind on Gatsby.’
‘You might not be able to.’
‘Given the way I feel about you, Maggie, I doubt that too.’ He shifts and I ease myself beside him. We’re still not touching. His arm is stretched along the back of the couch.
‘Ready?’ I ask, positioning myself next to him, waiting to lean back against his arm. I can feel Jack trying to keep his thoughts as neutral as possible. I burst out laughing as I lean against him.
‘What?’ I shift away so we’re not touching again.
‘Your milkshakes bringing all the boys to the yard,again?’
‘I literally have no idea why that’s still in my head.’
‘Just… relax, OK? I’ll move away if I’m uncomfortable.’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘Ready?’
‘My milkshake brings…’ he starts singing quietly, but there is a grin as he does it. ‘I’m ready.’
I lean back into the crook of his arm.
Thank you.
For trusting me.
I don’t reply. If he could hear my thoughts, they’d be nothing but a jumble: how nice it is to touch his skin, to feel safe in his arms, to feel wanted, despite the person I am. His hand drops gently over my shoulder and I turn the page. Jack’s voice reverberates through me.
Focus.
Try to read the words on the page.
Come on, you can do this.
I hear his need and concentration as he tries to decipher the words. A line of lyrics from Bob Dylan and another song I’m unfamiliar with.
‘Could you… guide my finger?’ Jack says aloud. ‘Beneath the words? It’ll help me keep my focus on the words and the book, rather than the way…’
I want to kiss the top of your shoulder.
I try to hide the flush of heat that is no doubt visibly creeping across my neck. I take his hand.
‘Like this?’
His hand is warm beneath mine.
‘Yes.’
I follow his finger along the top of the next page. ‘Their interest rather touched me…’
Their, i…
Where is the dot above the i?
I stop. Go back to the ‘I’. ‘Here.’ I drag his finger over the stem of the letter, dotting it with a pop.
