‘What about theholding of each other all night longyou thought might happen? Didn’t pan out, huh? If you two had gotten back together, surely you’d still be in there,him stroking your hair, you stroking his palm.’
I flush red. Why the hell did I share such intimate details with him. Of course he’s going to use them to embarrass me. That’s what villains do! I open my mouth to protest, but River is right. Last night was a total failure.
‘After seeing you in action last night I’ve concluded that you need to practise your flirting skills,’ River informs me. ‘I’m sorry to say you are sorely lacking. Youhaveto cast Henry back under your spell, make him remember the early days of your hooking-up. The hot, can’t-get-enough-of-each-other, let’s-fuck-on-the-side-of-the-road phase.’
‘Let’s-fuck-on-the-side-of-the-road phase?’ I screw my face up. ‘Is that a thing? You mean, like people who pull over their cars to have sex because they literally cannot wait till they get home to have sex in the comfort of their own beds? That sounds so unreasonable.’
‘Oh Gertie.’ River eyes me with pity.
‘And anyway, even if Henry and I were the kinds of people who ever did stuff like that, I’m not the flirty type. I never was. And neither is Henry. It’s not what he responds to.’
‘I reckon Marisol Keats would disagree.’
I glance at him sharply. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘The two of them last night at the quiz. While you were in the restroom.’
‘What happened?’ Was Henry flirting with Marisol? Is something going on with them? The mere thought makes me feel like I’m going to vomit with jealousy. Marisol Keats is better than me in every conceivable way. No. It can’t be that. Henry explicitly said last night that he wasn’t seeing anyone else.
‘Don’t have yourself a coronary.’ River holds his palms up. ‘All I’m saying is that maybe Henry is not as purely cerebral as you think.’
I tut. ‘So, what then?You’regoing to teach me how to flirt, are you?’
‘I’m an expert flirter. You could learn a thing or two from me, sweetheart.’
His cockiness is so irritating.
I roll my eyes. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that people only respond to you the way they do purely because of how you look? That they fancy youin spite ofyour personality. That their googly eyes are because you’re …’
‘Because I’m what?’
‘Oh, you know. Big Cowboy Handsome Hunk.’ I wave my hand airily, cheeks pinkening as my words echo back at me. ‘You’ve got a massive head start.’
‘Big Cowboy Handsome Hunk?’ River’s mouth twitches with amusement. ‘Why, thank you.’
I adjust my glasses on my nose. ‘Hush. My point is that some of us don’t have the show-stopping looks to pull off flirting. Some of us would just look stupid.’
River’s face softens. ‘You’re very pretty, Gertie.’
‘You’re very pretty?Is this you trying to flirt? Well, it’s not working. I know your game.’ I sigh. ‘And anyway, I can’t change my entire personality now. Henry would be weirded out. He’d see right through it.’
‘Flirting isn’t about changing your personality. It’s about leaning into it. Taking what you already have and using it strategically to get the exact reaction you want.’
‘That sounds deeply unethical.’
‘Flirting is fun, playful, full of anticipation and second-guessing.’ River frowns then tilts his head to the side and fastens his eyes on to mine. ‘Sorry, hold on,’ he says, voice suddenly low and toasty as the strike of a match. ‘You’ve got an errant eyelash.’ He reaches out and, eyes not leaving mine the whole time, uses the pad of his thumb to swipe ever so slowly across my cheekbone.’ He smiles warmly and to my extreme annoyance my heart starts racing in response to the unexpected intensity of his gaze. I find myself smiling back at him dopily.
‘You wanna make a wish, Gertie?’ he murmurs, holding his thumb so, so close to my lips. ‘You can have anything you want.’
I nod, somehow suddenly hypnotised by the flecks of gold in his eyes, the melody in his deep lilting voice. ‘Yes. I do. I want to …’
River suddenly snatches his thumb back. ‘Well, you can’t,’ he says, his tone clipped. The twinkle in his eyes disappears like someone found the button labelledCharmand flicked it off. ‘Because thereisno errant eyelash. I was making it up!’
‘What?’
‘And that,’ he stands up and spreads his arms wide, ‘was just me, performing some – rudimentary, I might add – flirting.’
‘My God.’ I twist my mouth to the side. ‘Youaregood at that. What were you doing with your voice? It was like you were casting a spell over me. And the eyelash thing? Very sneaky.’
