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‘It’s a bit far towalk.’
He lets out a small, breathy chuckle. I catch him rolling his eyes before he fakes doffing a hat and sweeps a low, elaborate bow. ‘Please, my lady, allow me to escort you home.’
I drag him back up, hands scrabbling at hisshoulders, mortified at the people who glance over. ‘I take it back. You’re not a bad movie villain. You’re a bad movie hero. And Idon’tmean that in the good way.’
Lloyd only grins at me like he thinks it’s an excellent compliment, and we make our way back towards Waterloo station, swiping our way onto the Tube. A few other people are on the platform, waiting for the next train towards Clapham. It makes me wonder where Lloyd lives – is this wildly out of his way? Will he have to come all the way back via Waterloo to make his own way home?
Selfishly, I can’t bring myself to ask, because then I’ll be obliged to say, ‘It’s okay, I can make my own way home,’ and it might bring our night to an end that much sooner.
It’s only once we’re swaying in our seats, with the gentle rattle of the Tube that’s become familiar to me in the last few weeks since moving here, the bubble we’d created around ourselves that I was so desperate to hold on to suddenly feels claustrophobic. He’s too close in the seat beside mine; I could count his thick, lovely eyelashes if I tried hard enough. I’m aware of the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way it’s in sync with my own, how his body is angledjust slightlytowards mine …
His left hand, the one nearest me, is balanced sideways on his thigh, fingers curved slightly. I want to slip my hand into it, feel the heat of his skin against mine, maybe the sweep of his thumb from my wrist to my knuckle like he did the last time we spent a night out in the city together, and …
And he’s looking at me, reallylookingat me, seeing all the way down to the deepest corners of my soul and drawing me in to drown in the vivid green of his eyes. His breath slows. His head tilts slightly to one side and his full lips part; I can see his tongue move behind his teeth and he must know I’m staring at his mouth.
I wonder if he’s thinking about that first kiss, or if he’s thinking about this next one.
‘Can I ask you something?’
Just like that, the spell is broken. Five words, and he’s shattered a moment that I’m suddenly sure existed only for me. The tilt of his head is curious, the pressure of his gaze thoughtful. I bite my tongue and draw back, not quite sure when I started to lean in. My hand has crept closer to his and I tuck it between my knees instead.
‘Sure.’
‘Why didn’t you ask for my number?’
My eyebrows scrunch together. ‘Because we don’t exactly … We don’t talk, really. We don’t hang out. Tonight excepted, obviously, but …’
A muscle jumps uncertainly in his cheek. The weight of his gaze lifts a little as he glances downwards for a second.
‘Right. But I didn’t mean now. I meant that night we met.’
‘Oh.’ I startle into speechlessness for several moments. I try to look away, but he makes it so hard. It’s too easy to get lost in his beautiful face, and it feels like so much hinges on my answer – like itmattersto him. I can’t decide if I want it to matter to him or not.
The train pulls into Kennington. The doors open, and then close again. The train leaves.
Lloyd waits.
‘You didn’t factor into my summer,’ I finally tell him. ‘I don’t mean as my boss’s son or whatever, I mean,at all. I didn’t want to muddy things for myself by having some summer fling. I had to – Ihave to– focus on this internship. I didn’t need … distractions. You know. Romantic entanglements.’
He arches an eyebrow, and I blush, desperately trying not to picture a romanticentanglementwith him – which, of course means it’sallI can think about: naked legs wrapped around each other’s bodies, the heat of his skin beneath my hands, the way he’d kiss my neck or murmur my name …
Is he thinking about what it would be like, too?
Nope, do not go down that road, Anna. Back away – quickly.
I shove him with my shoulder, glad of the excuse to break eye contact for a minute.
‘Shut up. You know what I mean. It’s not like you asked formynumber either,’ I say.
‘Out of … habit, I guess. Like I told you, I haven’t dated anyone for more than a couple of weeks at a time. I regretted it though. For the record. I really wished I’d asked for it, so I could see you again.’
‘Except, when youdidsee me again, you ignored me. Careful what you wish for, I guess.’
That’s enough to make him turn away. His body shifts to face forward. His eyes catch mine in our reflection of the dark train window opposite us and then he begins to study the Tube map overhead like he’s committing it to memory.
Good. He should feel awkward. He should know how much his behaviour hurt.
We’re quiet for the rest of the trip. Wordlessly, he walks beside me to where the pre-furnished rental apartments for the interns are. A few times I notice him pause to cross the road before I can lead the way, and realize that, of course, he’s been here before. Withher.
