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‘Nothing yet,’ Holly replied, rolling her neck.
The cheesy tunes were still on but at a considerably lower volume, their energy having waned around halfway through the deliveries before fizzling out to zero as they waited to hear back from a customer.
He’d not answered his door the first time around, so they’d come back at the end of the route, hoping he’d now be in. Unfortunately for them, he was nowhere in sight, and they were forced to park up outside his house in Giffnock and wait for Harry to give the all-clear to leave it.
Thirty minutes had passed and Jen’s patience was wearing thin. Not that she wasn’t enjoying Holly’s company, but there were much better places to hang out than a stuffy Volvo.
‘Dad will be busy with the crackers. He’s maybe not managed to get in touch yet.’ Holly said, defending her father.
‘More likely the guy’s not bothered. You know what customers are like. Doesn’t matter if our time is wasted.’
‘Not wasted though, is it? You get to spend it with me.’
Jen couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Did Holly have a window into her mind? Sometimes it felt like she did: a crystal clear vision of what was going on in the darkest parts of her brain.God, I hope not.As if to wreak havoc, her mind threw up images of Jen’s latest fantasy: fucking Holly on the rooftop last night. The way Holly had pushed down on her thigh, so hard Jen felt the heat of her core announcing how wet she was. . . it gave her shivers just to think about. She’d had been seconds away from taking things further. It wasn’t a difficult task to imagine how things could have gone if Holly hadn’t stopped her.
‘Yo,’ Holly said, clicking her fingers by Jen’s nose. ‘You spaced out again. You sure you’re okay? I’m still worrying about concussion.’
Jen composed herself with a quiet cough. ‘That was ages ago. Just tired, that’s all.’
‘Want some water to wake you up?’ Holly reached for her water bottle, offering it to Jen.
‘Only if you’re happy to share. I know some people don’t like sharing bottles.’
‘You had your tongue in my mouth yesterday. I think I’ll cope,’ Holly joked, biting her bottom lip to hide a wicked grin.
Jen’s cheeks beamed brighter than a fire engine. Holly was using her crystal ball again.Quick – time to change the subject.‘Talking of last night, we need to discuss the new terms of your swap.’
‘Ah, yes, well remembered.’ Holly straightened herself, mirroring Jen’s seating position and facing her as much as the steering wheel would allow. ‘What do you propose?’
Jen took a slug of water and handed the bottle back. She could taste Holly’s peppermint lip balm and fought to ignore the tingle in her stomach at the thought of kissing her right now, in the car. It would certainly be a good way to pass the time. ‘If you still want to go to Bar Orama, I’m in.’
‘Well, that was easy. I’ve seen they do a pub quiz on the last Thursday of the month. Fancy that?’
‘Ah, yes, I know all about the quiz. I used to be the Quiz Master. Legend has it they still use my jacket.’
‘What? No,’ Holly replied, her eyebrows rocketing. ‘Lies.’
‘I swear on my mother’s life. It had sequins and everything.’
Holly shook her head, a look of disbelief still plastered on her face despite the growing smile pulling at her lips. ‘Photos or I don’t believe you.’
Jen produced her phone from the car door. ‘Actually, I do believe there are photos on Facebook,’ she said with a singsong-y wiggle of her head.
‘Can’t wait to see this,’ Holly mumbled, leaning in closer.
A lot of scrolling, through nearly nine years of photos to be exact, and lo and behold: twenty-five-year-old Jen was hosting the first Quiz Night, sequin jacket and all.
Holly’s face was a picture. ‘The more I find out about you, the less I feel I know. You’re full of surprises.’
‘I was a different woman back then. Full of hopes and dreams,’ she joked.
‘What happened?’
‘Life.’ She was only half-joking that time. ‘We can’t go next week – they have the Lovefest closing thing. Next month?’
Holly's eyes lit up. ‘Good to know you’re not getting shot of me as soon as this is over.’
‘It was difficult at first, a real struggle, but I’ve gotten used to your company.’ The song changed and Jen’s attention snapped to the centre console: ‘I Touch Myself’ by The Divinyls. ‘Nope. Nooo. Literally the worst song ever made.’ Jen stabbed the skip button and breathed a sigh of relief when Christina Aguilera came on.
