“Then let’s sit on the sofa and drink it.”
“I feel…”
“What?”
“Why is this not more awkward?”
He laughed softly, walking backwards with those teacups firmly in his hand, taking a seat and arranging himself on the sofa, as I sat myself down next to him. Accepted the cup from his hand.
“Because I think we ticked off all the awkwardness a few weeks back. My parents’ matchmaking, your ex making a spectacle of himself, you getting drunk, me being your very…impulsive rebound hook-up…”
“True.” I had to smile.
“And we’ve talked for weeks. I feel like…”
“You know me.”
“I do. A little. I know what you’re like.”
“I know you too. And I’m still scared you’ll run away from me when things get too much.”
“I’m not going to run away; I’ve settled down from that. You’re going to have to throw me out.”
“You’ve got a flight booked on Sunday. You’ll leave.”
“Maybe I won’t.” He winked.
“I’ll take that threat seriously.”
“I like your place. I feel like I’m guest-starring in some period drama. Are there servants?”
“Actually.” I had to grin. “Mrs Cook…and the cleaners come on a Thursday. We have a laundry service.”
“Spoilt.”
“Nah. Try to get a hundred or so kids to wash their shirts and get them ironed for an eight o’clock Monday start?”
“I see your point.”
“Also? The boys clean their rooms. The housemasters run a tight ship. Chores mean scores. Scores mean privileges.”
“Such as?”
“Headmaster’s outings. I take groups of kids out for dinner, and to the bowling alley. We go to the cinema at the end of each term. Sometimes we go to the adventure baths up in Oban. The seniors get a spa day afterexams, which they all moan about but secretly love. Skincare became huge last year”
“TikTok.”
“You know about these things?”
“I deal with teenagers with massive dermatological outbreaks. Some are completely self-inflicted. TikTok is the gift that keeps on giving for us GPs.”
“I could do with you here. We could have our own GP.”
“You couldn’t afford me.”
“You could work for… I could pay you in sexual favours and tea.”
“Fox,” he warned.
