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She chuckled. ‘Remember that time you came round to my place and I’d been up all night working on abstracts?’
‘I’ve never seen anyone actually fall asleep while they’re drinking coffee before. Particularly since I’d made it so strong...’
Marie had got a job writing abstracts for scientific papers, which had been more lucrative than waitressing and had fitted around their busy study schedule better. Working and studying at the same time had been a struggle for her, but Alex had learned early in their friendship that she never took help from anyone.
Suddenly he was back in that time when he’d first felt completely free. Marie’s two shabby rooms, right at the top of a multiple-occupancy house, had been as clean as one pair of hands could scrub them, and full of outrageous low-cost colour.
‘Funny thing about that...’ Marie gave him a knowing look. ‘When I woke up you were gone, but I sat down to review my abstracts and found they were all perfect. Not a spelling or grammar mistake in any of them.’
Alex had reckoned he’d got away with that. He’d tried to make Marie stand up but she’d slumped against him, still asleep, so he’d had to practically carry her into the bedroom. He’d taken off her cardigan and shoes and decided to stop there, covering her up with the brightly patterned quilt. He’d sometimes imagined their two bodies naked together under that quilt. But Marie was far too good a friend, too good a person, to contemplate having a throwaway romance with her.
Alex had glanced at the document that was open on her laptop, meaning to close it down. He’d seen a mistake in the text, and had sat down and worked through everything, correcting the slips that fatigue had forced upon her.
‘You must do your best work when you’re flying on autopilot.’ He tried to maintain a straight face.
‘I suppose I must. Apparently I also spell synthesise with a z.’
‘Really? There must be a study in there somewhere. How fatigue alters your spelling choices.’ Alex shrugged guiltily. ‘They’re both correct, according the dictionary.’
‘Yes, they are. Although I imagine that “ize” as a verb ending is considered either an anachronism or an American spelling these days.’ She smirked at him.
‘You can mock if you want. Just because I went to a school that prided itself on having been the same for the last few hundred years...’ Alex had hated school. It had been only slightly less snobby and suffocating than his parents’ home.
‘I’m not mocking; I thought it was very sweet of you.’ She took a step towards him. ‘Along with all those expensive textbooks you used to lend me. And dropping round to pick me up so I didn’t have to take the bus.’
‘Why bring that up all of a sudden? Just to let me know I’m not as tactful as I thought I was?’ Alex wondered if he was in for a lecture about how she could have managed perfectly well on her own.
Marie shook her head. ‘You were very tactful. I hardly even noticed what you were doing most of the time. And you were my friend and you helped me. That’s something that goes both ways.’
He knew that. But he couldn’t talk to Marie about this. ‘I’m fine. Really. And I appreciate your concern.’
‘Just as long as you know that I’m always here for you.’
She reached out, touching his arm, and Alex almost flinched. All his senses were crying out for comfort, and yet he just couldn’t bring himself to ask. Was this the way she’d felt, despite all her self-sufficiency?
‘I know. Thank you.’
He’d meant to give her a basic friendly hug, the kind he’d given her so many times before. But when he felt her body against his he couldn’t let her go. Marie seemed to be the one thing in his life that wasn’t tainted right now.
He leaned down to kiss her cheek. But she turned her head and his lips brushed hers. Before he could tear himself away her gaze met his, her eyes midnight-blue in the darkness.
What if...?
What if...?
What if he could turn his back on the vision of his parents’ unhappy marriage and sustain a relationship for more than a few months? What if he could trust himself to get involved with the one person he cared about the most, even knowing he might break her heart and his? And what if everything he’d sought to escape hadn’t just caught him again in its iron clutches?
They were all serious questions that needed to be asked and answered before he took the step of kissing her. But then he felt her lips touch his and he was lost. Or maybe this was exactly what it was like to find himself. Alex wasn’t sure.
She was soft and sweet, and when he kissed her again she responded. Maybe it lasted a moment and maybe an hour. All Alex knew was that it was impossible to attach a time frame to something that was complete and perfect.
Even the way she drew away from him was perfect. A little sigh of regret, her eyes masked by her eyelashes.
He’d always supposed that kissing Marie was the one thing he mustn’t do. The one thing he wouldn’t be able to come back from. But in a sudden moment of clarity he realised that kissing her had only made him more determined that he couldn’t do it. Marie wasn’t just another pretty face he could walk away from without looking back. She was his friend, and he wanted her for a lifetime, not just a few months.
‘Do you want to go back in?’ If it meant keeping her then he had to let her go.
She still wouldn’t look at him. ‘Yes...’
