“Are you sure?” he asks. “Does Sam know that?”
I frown, confused at his implication. “Of course he knows that. We even laid out ground rules.Hewas the one who insisted on it.”
Josh looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself.
“Fine. Well, as long as no one gets hurt, I’m all here for it.”
“We have a time limit,” I repeat. “He’s leaving in three weeks. So it could never become anything more. We both know that. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“OK.” He looks torn. Then he starts grinning. “You know the whole group is going to go mental when they find out.”
“Really?” I ask. “I don’t think anyone will care.”
“Oh, my sweet summer child,” he says. “We’ve been predicting it for years.”
It makes my stomach twist in a way I can’t quite explain.What does he know that I don’t?But before I can ask, he changes the subject, and we spend the next hour talking about university.
***
When I get back, Sam's waiting at the door, overnight bag in hand. My heart jumps when I see him, and I frown at my reaction. Where did that come from?
The moment we get through the door, I distract myself by pushing him towards my room, pulling his shirt off on the way and dropping it in the corridor even as he attempts to kick off his shoes at the same time.
“No one’s in, right?” he asks around breathless kisses.
“Mum’s working a long shift, Dad’s out all day and Tom’s gone to the pub with friends.” I tug at his belt. He grins at me, deepening our kiss.
In the room, I push him towards the bed, standing between his knees and tracing my fingers around the tattoo on his chest. He got it the day he turned eighteen. It’s a set of Olympic rings just over his heart. I was initially surprised; Sam isn’t usually showy when it comes to his achievements. But then he told me about his mum joking in 2012 about having to take her son to get a tattoo and suddenly I understood.
“Fuck, Kath,” he grits out. “You make it so hard to control myself.”
“So don’t,” I suggest, pulling my dress up and over my head. He groans as his hands find my hips and he pulls me towards him.
“What do you want to do today?” He looks up at me. I'd texted him halfway through the afternoon telling him that I had plans for us tonight.
“Well, I was readingCosmo.” I smirk at him as he shuffles around trying to pull off his shorts whilst still sitting on the bed before flopping back. “And it’s given me some ideas.”
He grins, and I let out a squeak of surprise as he pulls me down onto the bed next to him. I’ve just got us into the shape I want when I hear a creak on the landing. I freeze, looking at Sam with wide eyes only to see a look of absolute terror on his face.
Chapter 20
Eighteen years old
Sam
“Kath, I’m back early. Do you want me to cook us dinner?” Tom’s voice filters through the door.
Oh, fuck. I look at Kath wide-eyed. This is not good. Really, really not good.
“Err, is Sam here?” I hear him moving down the corridor and I suddenly realise that my shoes and shirt are somewhere outside, discarded in our rush to get upstairs.
“Shit, what do we do?” I hiss. I start trying to unwind myself from Kath and whatever contortion we’re in, scanning the room for my boxers. Where on earth did they go?
“Give me five minutes,” Kath calls out, eyes wide.
This is a nightmare. Her bra is on one side of the room and her dress on another.
“What the hell is going on in there? Why is Sam’s shirt on the landing?” Tom says and I hear him getting closer.
