Page 65 of The Work Husband

‘Not me,’ he said. ‘I’m done playing the field. I’m a reformed character. Next woman I go out with is going to be The One.’

‘But how will you know?’

‘God knows I’ve tried enough Not the Ones.’ He grimaced. ‘When the right person comes along, I reckon I’ll spot her a mile away. How about you?’

‘How about me what?’

‘If things are finished with you and Sam. You’ll be downloading the apps and putting yourself out there, right?’

The idea filled me with a deep weariness. Before Molly met Ben, she’d regaled me with horror stories about all the liars, creeps and secretly married men she’d matched with – not to mention the extensive collection of unwanted dick pics she’d amassed. You’ve got to kiss a few frogs, she’d said.

But I didn’t want to kiss any frogs because none of them would be Sam. The knowledge twisted at my already aching heart.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I won’t be in a hurry to start dating. I was okay with being single. I reckon I’ll go back to that for a while.’

Maybe do some work on yourself, said the voice in my head. Maybe figure out how to not make the same mistakes next time.

But that prospect felt impossibly daunting. Tiredness washed over me again, and I hid a huge yawn behind my hand.

‘Too much of my scintillating company?’ Jamie asked.

‘Too much booze,’ I said. ‘Not enough sleep last night. Sorry, I should probably get home and have an early night.’

Jamie looked disappointed, but he finished his drink and stood up. ‘Sure, I’ll walk with you to the Tube.’

I stood too, my head now swimming and the room tilting alarmingly.

‘Steady on.’ Jamie took my arm. ‘Jeez, you really are a cheap date, aren’t you?’

‘Not normally.’ I let him guide me out of the door, relieved he was there to stop me cannoning off tables and tripping over my own shadow. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit of a mess.’

‘Happens to the best of us,’ he reassured me.

Outside, the evening was hot. The sun glared off the pavement, and I wished I hadn’t left the flat without my sunglasses that morning. Crowds of commuters were already making their way home, clashing with the crowds who were just arriving for their Friday nights out.

‘Will you be okay on the Tube?’ Jamie asked. ‘Want me to come home with you?’

Again, I heard that warning voice in my head. Not a good idea, Georgia.

‘I’ll be fine,’ I told him. ‘Half woman, half pigeon, that’s me.’

‘That must be why you shit all over the floor in the office,’ he said.

We both laughed. We’d arrived at the station now, but Jamie didn’t let go of my arm. He steered me away from the entrance and the stream of human traffic and down a side street.

And then, suddenly, he was kissing me. I couldn’t have said afterwards how it happened – just one moment we were walking along together, and the next we were face to face, my back leaning against the hot plaster of the building behind me, his deep-blue eyes drawing closer and closer to mine until I couldn’t focus on them properly. Then his lips met mine.

The kiss didn’t start out gentle and tentative, but was immediately urgent and intense. His tongue was on my mouth and then inside it. One of his hands was on my waist and the other in my hair, stroking it back from my face and then tangling into it, tilting my face upwards to meet his.

I was too surprised to do anything about it for the first few seconds – although it felt like a lot longer than a few seconds. It felt like my reactions, dulled by booze, were struggling to catch up with what was happening.

Wait, what? He’s kissing me? Who is? Jamie! Jamie’s kissing me? Not Sam?

So the kiss went on until he decided to end it.

Then he looked down at me, smiling. ‘God, Georgia. I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time. Haven’t you?’

‘Jamie, I— No. No, I haven’t. I didn’t want you to do that. Not at all.’ I put my hand up and touched my lips, like I could somehow wipe the kiss away.