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He starts to kiss my neck as I unlock the door, and I spin around and let him hold me up against it and we kiss there until we finally manage to break away and open the door.

The house is cold and dark inside, but I don’t stop to turn on the heater or the lights. The thought of untangling from him even for a second is too much. He walks me backwards to the bedroom, and we’re unbuttoning and unzipping each other’s clothes as we go. We get under the doona, finally warm, naked, entwined, and his body feels so good.

‘Baby, you are so beautiful,’ he says, running his hands over me.

I huff a little laugh. ‘You can’t even see me right now.’

‘I don’t need to see you. I can feel you, and I know what you look like, you’re all I’ve thought about for months.’

‘I’m all you’ve thought about? Didn’t you write a whole book?’

‘I wrote that book to impress you. It’s been ten per cent book thoughts and ninety per cent Charlotte.’

‘I like that breakdown. Let’s keep that going.’

‘Right now, it’s ninety-nine per cent Charlotte.’

‘Excuse me, what’s the other one per cent?’

‘Still the book. Specifically, will you like the book?’

‘I read the first chapter between sessions today. I already love it,’ I say, and then I kiss him, and we lie wrapped together, kissing and touching each other, deliciously, unbearably slowly, his fingers circling and stroking, until I can’t stand it any longer.

‘I need you. Now. Like, right now. Please.’ I am practically panting. Practically begging.

He kisses me for one more moment, and then he gets a condom from my bedside table drawer, puts it on, and slides into me. I moan as he moves inside me, and he leans close, his face gently touching mine.

‘I love you so much,’ he whispers.

Afterwards, we lie tangled together, my face pressed against his chest, and he gently runs his fingertips up and down my back.

‘Are you hungry?’ he asks.

‘Starving.’

‘Thirsty?’

‘Very.’

He starts to get up, and I grip him.

‘No, stay.’

‘I was going to get you food. And water. And then massage your sore feet.’

‘How do you know I have sore feet?’

‘Because you never wear the right shoes.’

‘I object to that statement. But I will accept the foot massage. Not yet though.’ I burrow closer to him. ‘Can we just stay like this for a bit longer?’

‘We can stay like this forever,’ he says. Then he resumes slowly stroking my back, and presses a kiss into my hair. I close my eyes, and I think this moment, right now, is maybe the happiest moment of my life.

41

THE NEXT MORNING, I meet Hillary at the office early. We have the rest of the festival to get through today, and already there are various crises we need to deal with. Authors unhappy with their accommodation, authors who want to change the topic of their panel discussion last minute, authors whose books have sold out and who want the bookshop restocked. But all of it feels manageable, enjoyable even.

‘Hillary, do you have a second?’ I ask her.