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“Maybe I’ve made a mistake, then,” I replied, and it was the prosecco talking. For sure, it was the prosecco talking.
I tried to keep my knees still, but they were shaky as hell. My fingers were twisty, and I felt like a fool, but I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t change how I felt and what I wanted. Not now I’d come this far.
He didn’t pull a book out of his briefcase, and he didn’t look away from me.
It was weird watching him heading in this opposite direction. Churchley, then Newstone, then Eastworth.
We didn’t speak. Didn’t say a word. Just stared. Silent.
Wenton, Sunnydale. Still nothing.
Then it was Eddington.
Make or break, even though I had no place to go there, it still felt like I could bail from that line.
I didn’t break.
The whistle sounded and we pulled away, and I was on unknown turf now, heading further away from London with my tummy an absolute tangle of what the hell are you doing?
I would have said something, but no words felt right, so I kept quiet. Kept hoping and wishing and praying to the universe that I wasn’t just some damn idiot on the craziest mission ever.
The train pulled up at Redwood station at 10.45 p.m.
He got to his feet, and his eyes were still fixed on mine.
“This is my stop,” he said.
And maybe he should’ve said see you on Monday and walked away. Maybe this was a stupid ditzy thing that could never be. But he didn’t. He stayed there, standing, and waiting, until I got to my feet as well.
I walked ahead of him, and I could feel him, just a few steps behind as we headed up the aisle.
It was like that very first morning I’d held back for him, feeling his presence, feeling every single step that he took, but you could multiply the sensation a hundredfold.
Plus this time, he was the one holding back for me.
I stepped out onto the platform and didn’t recognise it. I moved to the side as he stepped out to join me, and I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped there, a deer in the brightest headlights there could ever be. A trembling, baby deer at that.
He tried to break the awkwardness, I know he did. I could see the battle as he cleared his throat and summoned his professional voice.
“Chloe,” he said, but I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t let him be the professional Dr Hall.
Please, universe, please. Please let Gina be right.
I already had my eyes closed as I took those steps towards him. I wasn’t even sure how well my lips were lined up for his when I headed for his body and pressed up tight.
It would have been easy for him to step away. Easy for him to halt my motion. Easy for him to say no, Chloe, and make sure this was shelved for all time.
But he didn’t.
Gina was right.
He kissed me back.
His lips were warm, like the rest of him. Firm, like the rest of him.
His chest was as solid as I remembered, his arms just as welcoming and calm.
Until the kiss deepened and our mouths opened and his tongue met with mine.
Until that calm turned to fire, and fire turned to want, and want turned to need.
I needed him.
I needed him like I needed breath. Because he was life. Touching him was life to me.
His fingers twisted into my curls, and his mouth was as skilled as his hands. His tongue dancing with mine, and teasing. Tempting and claiming.
It was everything I imagined, but better. Because I’d never had anything like this. Like him.
My arms wrapped up around his neck and I sank into him, and I felt safe there, in my prosecco haze.
The train pulled away behind us, and we were left on the empty platform, kissing hard.
I never wanted it to end, but it did.
He sighed as he pulled away, and his fingers untangled from my hair.
“The train to Halsey will be here soon,” he said. “I can wait here with you.”
I shook my head. “Please. Please let me come with you.”
His forehead pressed to mine. “This isn’t professional conduct.”
“I don’t care about professional conduct,” I said, and managed to laugh. “I just ran across Harrow like an idiot, just to share a train with you. I’m not going anywhere now.”
He smiled at my giggle.
Thank you, universe. Thank you.
Thank you, prosecco, too.
It was the most natural thing in the world when his fingers slipped into mine and his hand squeezed tight and strong. But my heart was still pounding. My tummy was still an absolute mess of flutters. Flutters on top of flutters.
“My life isn’t what you’re expecting,” he said. “Please be prepared.”
“Show me,” I said, and those butterflies fluttered even harder as he led me away.21LoganHer hand was burning in mine, and everything with any sense in me was bellowing that I should put her in a cab and send her back to Halsey. Yet no amount of logic or reason could make me do it to myself. My feet kept on moving, step after step.
