Page 27 of While I’m Still Here

“Morning,” a sleepy voice sounds next to me.

I jump so violently that Colin’s hand slides from my thigh. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

I turn towards him. One eye is open, barely. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

“And then I woke up.”

“Don’t do that silently! I was having a moment with murder tit.”

His other eye opens, and even half asleep, he manages to look judgemental. “Would you prefer an announcement?”

“Yes.”

Colin clears his throat theatrically. “Good morning, Beatrice. I am now conscious.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He closes his eyes again, and I stare at him. There are questions—several, actually—most of them are probably inappropriate before yea. Unfortunately, patience has never been one of my characteristics. “Colin?”

A tired sigh comes from the pillow. “Yes, Bea?”

“Did we have sex?”

Both of his eyes spring open, and Colin rolls his head towards me and studies my face, all traces of sleep disappearing. “Are you asking me because you genuinely don’t remember?”

“No,” I sigh.

“Okay.” His forehead creases. “Then, yes, Bea. We had sex.”

“Right.”

He watches me, and I watch him. Neither of us seems to know what comes next. I remember having sex… I remember quite a lot, actually. Enough that several vivid memories choose this exact moment to arrive together and make my face approximately the temperature of the sun. “So,” I say eventually, clearing my throat. “Are you my boyfriend now?”

His mouth twitches. “This feels like a conversation we probably should have had before the sex.”

“I’d had a very difficult day. I’m sorry that a relationship status wasn’t top of the list.”

“You had.”

“I’d also had wine.”

“Lots of it, yes,” he chuckles.

“And you, you absolute dick, have apparently spent seven years withholding important information from me.”

Colin’s eyebrows rise. “That seems wildly unrelated.”

“It speaks to your character.”

He rolls onto his side properly, propping his head on one hand. The duvet shifts, and my eyes drop automatically.

Oh.

“Are you…”