‘I was,’ he answers, pausing. ‘But I was also put off by . . .’
‘By what?’
‘Nicolas.’
I squint in confusion.
‘I saw him giving you his number in London.’
‘And?’ I ask, not completely getting what he’s alluding to. ‘What’s going on with you guys? For friends you seem very at odds.’ I recall what he said about how he’d sacrificed the newspaper review, and how it felt then as if he wasn’t telling me the whole story.
‘Friendsis a loose term,’ he laughs wryly. ‘We were part of a wider circle for a year, and the group stays in touch.’
‘And?’
Flynn rolls his head on the back of the sofa.
‘When Nicolas and I were at university he stole a girl from me.’ He uses finger quotes around the word ‘stole’. ‘He’s owed me a favour ever since, hence why he was on the trip, writing a review about the book train.’
‘Uh-huh,’ I say, still not getting the full picture.
He pauses, considers how he’s going to phrase the next part. ‘When he became aware that you were Fran’s daughter, in true Nicolas fashion, he made a play . . .’
‘For me? To get info about Mum?’
He cocks his head to one side. ‘In part . . .’ he says, not finishing his thought. He takes a deep breath, runs a hand through his hair. ‘He also used you to get to me.’
‘How?’ I ask, still not getting it.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘Not to me!’
He smiles tenderly, his eyes soft.
‘He made a play for you because he wanted something he knew I wanted . . .’
‘What?’ I ask.
‘You, Carly.’
‘Oh!’ I laugh, and suddenly it all seems obvious. ‘Wait! Is that what you were arguing about at Les Deux Magots?’
‘You and the review,’ he says. ‘I told him that you and I had almost kissed. He made it clear he planned for more.’
‘Did he really?’ I ponder, Nicolas already feeling like a distant memory.
‘He’s a product of rich, inattentive parents,’ Flynn says evenly. ‘Manipulating people is his way of getting his kicks.’
‘I can’t believe you could have lost your promotion over the review,’ I say, recalling what Georgia had said. ‘That was a really big sacrifice.’
‘It was worth it,’ he smiles, reaching up and tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
A warm shiver runs through my body as I gaze into his eyes. ‘I never do seem to know who the right guy is.’
‘Maybe now’s your opportunity to find out.’
‘Maybe,’ I whisper as he leans in and kisses me, my body igniting.
