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‘Sounds like a fun weekend for me.’
‘I’ll be keeping my eye on you.’
‘Yes please.’ He smoulders.
Help. I need distractions.
Bring it back to the medical mishap, Sophie.
‘I have some paracetamol if you want one?’ I offer.
Joe runs his tongue under his lip. ‘If you don’t mind, yeah. It is a bit sore.’
‘I feel awful,’ I say as I rummage through my washbag for supplies.
‘Don’t.’
‘Here they are.’ I walk back over and hand Joe a packet of paracetamol. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me in what feels like forever.
‘I like you in that T-shirt.’
Ah yes, my embarrassing decades-old PJ top. I’d almost forgotten I was wearing it.
‘Ha, very funny.’
‘I’m being serious.’
‘Well, flattery gets you everywhere,’ I quip without thinking.
‘Everywhere?’ Joe’s eyes flash.
Our fingers brush as he hands back the packet. Even I can’t deny the palpable tension between us now. Our hands are still touching. At some point I drop the paracetamol. He circles his fingers around my wrist and ever so gently pulls me towards him on the bed.
I’d like to say I’ve lost my mind because that would be a great excuse for this uncharacteristic behaviour, but I haven’t. I’ve never felt more present. I’m now inches away from him, his bare chest taking up all of my vision. He smells incredible.
His hand is working its way up my arm, setting off little fires as it goes. He reaches my jaw and I see with complete clarity that we are about to Cross The Line. But I don’t care. I’m so turned on even a cold shower wouldn’t cut the mustard.
I lean in.
Joe’s phone starts to ring.
‘Ignore it,’ he murmurs, his face inching closer to mine.
‘Joe,’ I manage. And then I pull away just a small amount, but it’s enough to let me think straight for a moment. ‘What if it’s about Sid?’
He lets out an almighty sigh and pauses.
And then he gets up to answer the call and the moment is broken.
What am I doing, gadding about with Joe like we’re actually a couple? For gods’ sake!
Joe pads into the bathroom with his phone and I shake my head at myself. A disgrace. I need to nip this in the bud, and fast. While Joe’s out the room I organise my pillows at the tail of the bed and get myself firmly tucked in. This will not do.
‘Sorry about that,’ he says, looking mutinous as he comes back. ‘My old boss wanting a quick chat. Catastrophic timing.’
‘No worries,’ I say, overly cheery. ‘We should probably get some rest.’
Joe clears his throat. ‘If that’s what you want?’
