Page 29 of The Spark

I smiled as he pulled me to my feet.

‘I have glow sticks and everything.’

‘Lara’s saving those for Latitude.’

‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’

Music kicked in on his phone: ‘Hey Now’. He grabbed me around the waist, pulling me into him for a kiss. ‘Neve, you need to know... I don’t care what my dad says, okay? I don’t care what anyone says. You and me – we’re meant for each other.’

‘I know. I love you. I know.’

‘I want to be with you for ever. I don’t care if we’re young. I can’t imagine my life with anyone else.’

We talked as the music became water around us. We dreamed out loud about the home we’d share one day, the jobs we’d have, the new friends we’d make. The holidays, the gigs, our adventures-to-be. The memories-in-waiting. And then he dipped his mouth to my collarbone, and I let my head roll back as a shiver of pleasure ran through me.

We played the album six times that night, warm as nesting animals in each other’s arms, the glow sticks like beacons as dusk descended. The darkness became our intimacy, our permission to say anything.

So in the end, Jamie’s dad’s attempt at driving us apart had had the exact opposite effect. Because after that night, I knew we were closer than ever.

Chapter 14.

Now

A colleague recommends a Chinese film playing at the Picturehouse, and I message Ash to ask if he fancies it.

The film turns out to be a powerful love story about two thirty-something aspiring artists. My colleague had very much emphasised the art and skipped over the part about it being an epic and highly-charged romance.

Inside the darkened cinema, all my senses seem heightened. I am very aware of Ash’s warm proximity, how good he smells, how he has angled his knee into my space, and how I’m enjoying it. I know, already, that I’d love to reach out and feel for his hand. That in my head, I’m mere moments from kissing him.

Maybe it’s partly the film that is stirring me up like this. Romance isn’t usually my preferred genre, but I’m surprised to realise it has overridden much of my cynicism. And aside from mild embarrassment at having been the one to suggest it, I’m actually enjoying all the things it’s making me feel.

‘Love this building,’ Ash says afterwards, as we make our way back towards the main doors.

I nod. ‘It’s so beautiful.’ The cinema is sited in a Grade I listed part-medieval merchant’s house, its oldest sections dating back to the fourteenth century. Now, it’s a sympathetic blend of old and new, a perfect synthesis of flint, glass and low-hanging beams.

On the steps outside, I turn to him. ‘Did you like the film?’

‘Loved it.’

‘Really?’

‘Didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so—’ I break off, fumbling for the right word.

‘Romantic?’

‘I was going to say sentimental.’

He smiles. ‘Ah, I’m not averse to some good old-fashioned sentiment.’ Reaching out, he runs a hand down my arm, slow and tender in a way that makes me shiver. ‘Do you... fancy a nightcap?’

‘Yes,’ I say, although I already know that heading back to his place will surely only supercharge everything I am starting to feel.

Back at the apartment, he takes my jacket. I privately hope he likes the dress I’m wearing. My hair is tied back in a long plait that falls between my shoulder blades.

Ash is wearing jeans and a soft grey sweater, understated in a way that makes me smile inside. I bet he’d be genuinely surprised – and probably mortified – if he knew just how many people in my office have a fairly major crush on him.

He pours two glasses of wine and dips the overhead lights. We sit down together on the sofa. Music floods the room.

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