Page 84 of The Love Hack

‘I haven’t had a boyfriend in ages.’ My voice came out in a whisper and I felt my eyes squeeze shut, like if I couldn’t see him he wouldn’t be able to see me, know the truth I was about to tell him. ‘Not for years. The last time I was with a guy, he treated me terribly. I don’t know how to do this.’

‘No one does,’ he said. ‘Not really. We can figure it out together, if that’s what you want.’

‘I do want to. I think. I think I’m ready. But, Ross…’

He squeezed my hand tighter. ‘Lucy, I can promise you one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I’ll try my very, very best not to be a dick,’ he said.

And then he kissed me.

THIRTY-TWO

I hadn’t set an alarm the previous night, what with one thing an another, but I woke at six in the morning anyway – because, what with one thing and another, I hadn’t closed the blinds either, and the morning sun was streaming through the windows and piercing my eyelids. I turned to bury my face in the pillow, but found there was no pillow there – instead, there was a shoulder. A warm, muscular shoulder, already smelling familiar.

Ross’s shoulder.

He was asleep, one arm flung upwards over his head, his face still and peaceful, half-smiling as if he was having a particularly pleasant dream. The sunshine on his skin turned his hair and the shadow of stubble on his jaw a bright gold.

I snuggled down, fitting my head into the hollow where his bicep and pectoral muscles met, and waited to see if I’d fall asleep again – but there was no chance whatsoever of that. I felt as excited as I’d felt on Christmas morning when I was little, conscious of the weight at the end of my bed that meant my stocking was there, filled, and Santa had been.

Then, I’d have leaped out of bed and gone next door to wake my sister, so the two of us could prod and rattle and sniff the wrapped contents of our stockings until we couldn’t wait any longer, and had to burst into our parents’ room, the stockings cradled in our arms like overgrown puppies.

Amelie. Thinking of my sister brought a stab of pain that was almost physical. Feeling it alongside the glow of happiness I’d woken up with was like stepping off a beach into a freezing ocean – part of me in the sunshine and gorgeously warm, part submerged by water and icy cold.

Sleep now out of the question, I took comfort in a daydream of the previous night. How our kiss had turned into more than a kiss – our hands exploring each other’s bodies, our breath intermingling, our voices gasping and whispering.

I remembered how awkward I’d felt when I realised what was going to happen – almost frightened for a second, until Ross had paused, held me close and said, ‘It’s okay. Are you okay? Say if you want to stop.’

I took a deep breath and said, ‘I don’t want to stop.’

But, as if he’d sensed the effort of will, the courage it had taken for me to commit to what we were about to do, he’d slowed right down. For the next half an hour, every touch of his fingertips or lips or tongue had silently asked that question. I half-remembered him even asking it aloud, one more time, just before I lowered myself on to him and took him inside me for the first time.

But he hadn’t needed to ask, not then, and my body had given him all the answer he needed.

It had been perfect. Compared to those times with Kieren, it had been night and day. To do this with a man I liked, trusted and truly desired, rather than just wanting him to desire me – because I couldn’t have been surer that he did – was amazing. It was a revelation.

I opened my eyes, as if to check that Ross was still there, he wasn’t a dream, even though I could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest under my forearm, the tickle of his hair under my skin.

To my surprise, he was awake, his eyes open too, gazing down at me.

‘Morning,’ he said.

‘Morning.’ When our eyes met, I expected to blush, or for him to, but it didn’t happen. Whatever cringe factor there’d been between us was gone now, replaced with confidence and excitement.

‘Sleep well?’ he asked.

‘Brilliantly. How about you?’

‘So well. I could murder a coffee, though.’

‘And some breakfast.’

‘We don’t need to get a flight until this evening.’

‘So we have time…’ I tilted my head and found his lips with mine. Last night, we’d kissed and kissed, all the way through, and then we’d kissed some more until we’d fallen asleep. I wanted to check that it was as good as I remembered.

---