We all laugh then. It’s all so hilarious. (Not.)
I can feel this weird tension in the air and I can’t wait for them both to bugger off so I can be alone. As soon as I have this thought, I feel really guilty. Both of these men went out of their way to rescue me tonight!
What the hell is wrong with me?
‘Right, well, nice to meet you, Theo,’ says Jason. ‘I’d better be off.’
I glance at him sharply. Was it my imagination or was there an edge to his tone?
‘Yeah, me too,’ says Theo. He nods and smiles but there’s an odd tension to the set of his mouth and he continues to stand there beside me. We wave Jason off together, which feels weird, as if we’re a couple.
‘Hope I’m not encroaching on something,’ he says, as Jason’s car disappears.
‘No, no, of course not. Jason’s just – well, he’s a friend now.’ An awkward flush stains my face. ‘It’s a shame, actually. He’s had a row with his girlfriend and she’s walked out so he probably feels a bit lonely. But he’ll be fine. She wasn’t good enough for him anyway.’
Theo gives me a piercing look with those deep blue eyes, and I can’t fathom what he’s thinking.
Then he says, ‘Of course. His girlfriend is Lucy.’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
We walk back to the house and he ushers me over the threshold first. ‘You told me about a girl called Lucy who bullied you and stole your boyfriend, so I put two and two together.’
‘Well, you’re right. And Jason’s far too good for her.’
Theo walks on ahead, over to the counter. ‘Seems like you still really like him.’
‘Yes. I do. But as a friend.’ I’m not sure why I feel the need to add that last bit. Theo says nothing, just gets on with pouring out hot chocolate into two mugs he’s found on the kitchen dresser. They’re just there for display really so they’ll be in need of a dust, but I’m not going to tell Theo that after he’s been kind enough to make me a drink in the first place!
He brings the mugs and we go through to the living room, and I quickly draw the curtains to block out any evidence of storm still visible outside. I sink onto the sofa, and after a quick glance at the seating, Theo hands me my mug and sits down next to me, lounging into the corner so he’s almost facing me, long legs spread out and almost touching mine.
‘I used to have a weird fear of buttons when I was a kid,’ he says. ‘Grown out of it now, thankfully, otherwise I’d be spending my life in a onesie.’
I’ve just taken a sip of hot chocolate and almost choke with amusement at the thought. ‘I can see you as Superman. Or maybe Rudolph with the furry antlers on your hood.’
‘Thanks.’ He nods with fake modesty. ‘Yes, I’ve always been quite stylish.’
‘Buttons is a strange one, though.’
‘It is. At least yours is slightly more common.’ He raises his mug. ‘Here’s to weird phobias. So have you always been scared of thunderstorms?’
I don’t really like talking about it, but I give him a brief description of being stranded in the garden in the middle of a humdinger of a storm, thanks to Lucy. I try to laugh it off, but I think he can see right through my bravado because he doesn’t even smile.
‘Kids can be so cruel,’ he says, shifting his position and leaning over to place his empty mug on the coffee table. When he sits back, he’s closer to me on the sofa, his thigh brushing mine, and suddenly, I’m acutely aware of his nearness. It’s like a giant hoover has come down from the sky and sucked all other thoughts right out of my head.
Every time he shifts slightly, I get tantalising wafts of shower gel or body spray blended with his own scent, which I very much like. It’s all in the nostrils for me, this attraction thing. And I think it’s the same for most people, even though they might not even realise it. Nothing personal but some people just stink! (And yet to someone else, they might smell like a garden of roses.)
‘Are you feeling better now?’
I’m so lost in the sensation of actually being attracted to a man after so long, it takes me a while to process the question.
‘Much better.’ I smile shyly, risking eye contact. ‘Thank you for rescuing me. And for the hot chocolate. I feel fine now.’ And it’s true. I do.
‘Good.’ He’s leaning sideways, his arm on the back of the sofa, looking at me with a strange intensity in those mesmerising blue eyes, and a powerful longing surges up and engulfs me. Suddenly I’m wondering what it would feel like to unbutton his shirt and run my hands over his broad bare chest and kiss the side of his neck right where his hair curls, soft and dark …
The eye contact goes on and my skin is tingling with an overwhelming desire to be touched. When he reaches over and gently shifts a strand of hair out of my eyes, the feeling of his fingers lightly brushing my temple makes my whole body quiver. He runs his hand down my cheek, cupping it in his palm for a moment and instinctively, boldly, I turn my lips towards it.
‘I need to be going,’ he murmurs, and his words are confusing, disorientating to me. His body seems to be saying one thing and yet …
Abruptly, he gets to his feet and clears his throat. ‘You must be exhausted after tonight.’
I try to smile but a feeling of despair is creeping over me. I’m back to feeling cold and frighteningly alone, like I felt in the treehouse before he arrived.
‘Right.’ I stand up, too, but my legs are a little shaky and I stumble slightly. He catches me, his hands firm around my waist,
