I just didn’t need to say it out loud. Out loud, it becomes real. Out loud, it definitely violates a fair few of our ground rules.
He opens his mouth, the corners picking up tentatively as he ruminates on a response. It sets off a fresh wave of heart palpitations, fast as fireworks. I snap my head to the window.
‘And I love thisview,’ I say.
He takes the hint, facing it too as he clears his throat. ‘Yeah, already looks like a winner. Which reminds me, actually – what are you doing tomorrow?’
‘Not much, why?’ I ask, thankful for the progression.
He shifts awkwardly in his seat, dropping his eyes back down. It activates alarm bells in my head, but I try to keep them to myself so as not to spook him.
‘It’s nothing major. I just... I booked a day trip tomorrow and realised I don’t really want to do it alone.’
The tone is flippant and uncaring, but as I look at his face I can see the new dip in his brow and stoop of his shoulders. I sit up straighter, studying the deeper, sullen breaths.
‘No hot date you could take? The night is still young.’
He shakes his head, still looking down. ‘This isn’t something I can do with a stranger.’
My body tingles at the mystery of it, eager to learn more, but it’s quickly overtaken by a stronger feeling... the rush of warmth at the idea that whatever this is, he would only want to do it with me.
‘Count me in,’ I say, as firmly as I can.
The answer clearly brings him some peace, his shoulders relaxing slightly as a smile springs back to his lips.
‘Thank you.’ He breathes deeply before launching back into action. ‘I’ll fill you in as we go, but make sure you get plenty of sleep tonight. You’ll also need water, a hair-tie probably, sensible shoes...’
I take my phone out to make notes, pleased to see him upbeat again.
‘And Amorie?’
I look up to catch him staring at me.
‘I love you too,’ he says.
‘I didn’t mean—’
‘I don’t care if you did or didn’t. I love our friendship,’ he says with certainty.
. . .a view from the top
I have far too much trust in Noah. So much trust that I seem to have found myself at the back of an air-conditioned coach at six in the morning. I was pulled out of bed, handed a backpack and dragged down the street before I even had time to register what happened.
Now here I am, resting my head against the cool glass of the window as I float in and out of dazed and confused consciousness. My only comfort? The blanket I’ve made out of Noah’s hoodie. Turns out a crochet halter-neck is not the warmest travel attire.
‘Wake up, princess,’ Noah whispers gruffly into my ear.
Joke or not, it sends an awfully telling shiver down my spine. I play it off with a further snuggle into his hoodie, attributing it to the coach’s harsh AC. Then I turn to properly take in his bemused face.
‘You’ve got a little . . . here.’
He reaches over, wiping some drool off the corner of my mouth with his thumb. My skin ignites at the touch and I take a deep breath to hopefully steady any further bodily reactions.
‘What time is it?’ I ask, desperate for a distraction.
‘It’s been three hours,’ he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. ‘We’re actually closer to Salzburg right now.’
‘Then why didn’t we do this in Salzburg?’ I ask.
