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He settled himself in the passenger seat. Alice had driven his car, even picked him up enough times after a wild night on the town, for this to feel familiar.
“So, shall I drive you to your place? I don’t mind Ubering from there.”
He paused. “Is Polly home?”
“No, I think she’s out with Jake tonight.”
He slunk low in the seat. “Let’s go back to yours. I fancy one of your hot chocolates.”
What the hell had he just said?
“Really?”
He did his best to sound nonchalant. “Yep, I’ll sober up and be able to drive home after.”
He sensed her shrug as she manoeuvred them out of the parking spot. “Okay,” she said casually. “Though I can make up the sofa bed if you prefer.”
Aaron’s scalp prickled. Supposing his dick ruled his brain and he sleep-walked into her room? He nearly laughed at the sheer craziness of it, or maybe he did actually laugh out loud because she looked at him again, quizzically. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing, why?”
“You kind of let out aglumph.”
“Aglumph?”
“Yeah, the snorty sound you make when you’re amused.”
“Well, if you must know, I was thinking about the noise you made when they asked you to the baby shower.” He imitated her high-pitched tone. “Hmmmm-umm?”
“Only because I’ve never been to one before. I don’t know how you conduct yourself. Even the name is kind of weird. I have images of dousing a poor little baby’s head with a garden sprinkler.”
Aaron laughed. “Even I know it’s to shower the baby with gifts.”
“How domesticated of you.”
Aaron slunk even lower in his seat and muttered, “Never.”
That stopped the conversation dead.
They drove for a while in silence, Alice supposedly concentrating on the road. Aaron flicked a glance at her legs to see the hem of her skirt riding way above her knees. His car was a manual—all the best sporty numbers were—and the tensing and relaxing of her thigh as she pumped the gears made him want to turn the air-con on full blast.
He switched his eyes to the front and stared at the oncoming lights of cars. Where the frig had the ease they used to share gone?
Finally Alice questioned, “Have you seen Oliver recently?”
He flicked her profile a glance, but her little nose and the sweep of her upper lip gave nothing away. Even her tone was bland. “Not since his talk last Saturday. Why?”
“Oh, just… Nothing really, except he said he was trying to reach you.”
Now he sat up. “When did you see Oliver?”
Alice drew up at a red light and glanced at him. He tried to wipe the surprise off his face.
“He brought in a box of his books to the shop; they got damaged in transit so he donated them to us.”
“Nice of him.”
“It was,” Alice protested.
