Page 52 of Chocolate Cake for Breakfast
‘Hey, you, give that back!’ I get to my feet, but so doeshe. And he stands there, taunting me... laughing and holdingthe cake just inches from my reach.
‘Right.’ I grab another slice and aim it at him. ‘Return mycake or you’ll be sorry, mister.’
‘Ooh, threats now, is it?’
I nod, pursing my lips and trying not to laugh.
‘Okay. I give in. Here you are.’
‘Thank you!’
He holds it out and I drop the other slice and bound over.And for some reason, I decide to try and take a bite straight away, when he’sstill holding it. And of course, I misjudge it and end up with chocolate cakeall over my face.
‘You horror!’ I squeak. Grinning, I wipe a large blob of chocolateicing off my cheek and pop it in my mouth, then I lick as far as I can tolocate the rest of the delicious, squidgy mess on my face. ‘You did thatdeliberately.’
‘No, I didn’t. Honestly.’ He holds up his hands insurrender.
‘Yes, you did. And you’d better watch out.’
Picking up the same slice, I advance on him and he stridesinto the living room to escape, at which point I manage, by means of a bit ofnifty footwork, to push him onto the sofa. And from my vantage point, sittingastride him, I aim the cake at his face.
Laughing, he shields his face but I find my target – and I evenmanage to squidge it about a bit afterwards as he protests and tries to grab myarms.
We’re both laughing and as our eyes meet, I suddenly realisewhat an intimate position I’ve got myself into. And something deep inside takesover. It’s an urge that’s impossible to resist as I lean forward and press mymouth to his. My whole body reacts to the touch of his strong lips againstmine, and when I feel his hands slip around my waist, I give myself upcompletely to that kiss, pressing against the hard muscles of his chest, headywith the sensation of getting close to him at last...
For a long, ecstasy-filled moment, he responds with apassion.
Then, just as quickly as it happened, it’s all over.
His arms are holding me at a distance. Panting and confused,I stare at him but he looks away and mutters something I can’t make out. Thenhe’s extracting himself and on his feet.
‘You’re collecting your dad from hospital,’ he murmurs,looking at his watch. ‘You probably need to go.’
I glance at the clock. It’s only nine. I’ve got ages yet.
But in silence, I get up and gather my things. I’ve neverfelt so embarrassed in my life. I crossed a line and Logan didn’t like it.Except that at the time, it felt as though he was as carried away as I was bythat kiss. It’s all so confusing...
At the door, the atmosphere between us is still strained.
‘I hope the news is good,’ he says.
I look into his eyes. They seem troubled. ‘Thank you,’ Iwhisper, and I escape to the car, desperate now to be on my way.
He calls out my name but I pretend I didn’t hear and slamthe car door shut.
I leave his street and drive away, but my hands aretrembling, so I pull into a bus stop on my way out of Guildford. Checking thereare no buses in the mirror, I slump against the steering wheel in despair. Itwas all going so well. We were getting on again... just likebefore my accident. But then I had to go and pounce on the poor man. And he wasprobably too flabbergasted to do anything but comply!
But oh, the rejection... the way he heldme so firmly at arm’s length.
I’m cringing on repeat here.
How will I face him at work after such a shamelessdisplay?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I stay there for a while, the engine switched off,trying to pull myself together to go and collect Dad. I still have time tofill, but eventually I decide I’d be better waiting in the hospital car park, ratherthan at a bus-stop.
I’m about to start the engine when I happen to glance to theside and I notice a man walking along the pavement, in the direction of thecity centre. His head is down, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. I knowhim, don’t I?
