Page 53 of The Love Hack

‘You’re welcome. Now let’s get on and smash this thing.’

He let me go and we stood in the gloom for a second, beaming at each other. My legs were still a bit shaky, but I didn’t think it was from the climb any more.

Together, we turned around, ready to assess the next challenge.

It – and the following five rooms – passed in a bit of a blur. Afterwards, I could remember putting together jigsaw puzzle pieces to make one of a whole gallery wall of pictures, behind which was the key to the next room. There was a code we had to crack, where hieroglyphic symbols corresponded to letters of the alphabet and spelled out a line from a poem hidden in a book. There was an algebra problem whose solution was the code on a combination lock. There was a chemistry lab where the final key was hidden in a test tube of liquid, made invisible by its refractive index and revealed when the solution was changed by the addition of a specific chemical.

Ross got that one – I’d never even heard of refractive index, but he’d studied chemistry at A-level and explained it to me. Although, by that point, I had to admit being conscious of a different sort of chemistry – a kind of fizzing connection between him and me, the way our brains seemed to fit together like they were puzzle pieces themselves, so that when I got stuck Ross stepped in, and when he was at a loss the answer popped straight into my own head. Never mind the fact that I could still feel the places where his hands had touched my legs, my waist and my shoulders, like they’d also been coated with invisible ink that would leave a mark on my skin only I knew was there.

By the end, we were laughing as we entered each room, confident that none of the others had beaten us and this one wouldn’t either.

It was no surprise, really, when we emerged from the final room to find that all our colleagues were gathered round Neil, who was holding a stop-watch, and erupted into cheers when they saw us.

‘Forty minutes and fifteen seconds,’ Neil said. ‘You beat the next-quickest team by a clear six minutes.’

‘How the hell did you do that?’ Chiraag asked. ‘I thought our team had won it for sure.’

‘Just natural talent,’ Ross joked.

‘Ross did the hard bits,’ I said, remembering the climb down the ladder.

‘Hey, don’t throw shade on yourself,’ reprimanded Greg. ‘You can tell us your secrets over a drink. Grab your bags from the first room where you left them, gang, and let’s go to the pub.’

Ross walked next to me, both of us still glowing with our shared triumph.

‘That thing with the windows,’ he said, ‘that was genius. And you got it in like five seconds.’

‘It took us at least fifteen minutes,’ Chiraag complained. ‘We’d have beaten you if it wasn’t for that.’

‘If it wasn’t for Ross, I’d still be standing around at the top of that ladder, too chicken to go down,’ I said. ‘You took one for the team there.’

‘No, I didn’t.’ Ross moved a fraction closer to me, so his shoulder brushed mine. ‘It was totally worth it.’

‘Why?’ Marco asked. ‘Did you get to see her knickers?’

‘Shut it, you sleaze,’ said Ross.

‘I big brave man.’ Chiraag stooped over so his knuckled almost brushed the ground. ‘I help frightened ladies down ladders. Then I?—’

‘Oh, piss off, the pair of you.’ But I could see Ross was grinning.

What had he actually meant, though? Was he saying that he’d enjoyed touching me, or that it had been a necessary, unfortunate price he'd had to pay for coming in first? But I didn’t need to analyse that now: we’d have the whole afternoon together, chatting, drinking beer in the sun, getting to know each other even better.

I couldn’t believe I’d been dreading this day. It was turning out far, far better than I could have dreamed of.

But when I picked up my bag and checked my phone, I had six missed calls from Amelie.

TWENTY

Dear Adam

I’m 27 and I recently moved in with my girlfriend. We’d been dating for six months and it felt like time to take things to the next level. I’m not gonna lie, I thought I was the luckiest man alive when she agreed to go out with me. She’s a fitness influencer and she’s absolutely gorgeous – my mates couldn’t believe I managed to find a girl like her and neither could I. But there’s a problem. When we were dating, she always made the most of herself, and every time I saw her she looked stunning. When I went round to hers, her flat was spotless and she cooked incredible food. But now we’re living together, things have changed. She spends the weekends in her workout gear with no make-up on. She plucks her eyebrows over the bathroom sink. When she’s on her period she cries all the time. She leaves empty protein shake containers all over the flat. Basically, my hot girlfriend has turned out to be a hot mess. What can I do?

Karl, Belfast

I emerged from the stairwell into the office the next morning, out of breath as usual from the six-storey climb, at exactly the same time as the lift doors opened. Marco stepped out, laden with carrier bags from McDonalds, a cardboard tray holding five cups of coffee balanced on one hand and a clanking blue carrier bag looped over one arm.

‘Morning, Lucy.’ He looked briefly surprised to see me, then his normal megawatt smile broke out. ‘You missed the hangover cure order. I’ve got sausage and egg McMuffins, extra hash brows and a double cheeseburger for your man Ross. This is a dark day. We’d have been better off with bloody Marys all round if I’m honest, but Greg takes a dim view of drinking at work, especially at breakfast time.’

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