Page 102 of Swim To Me

“Are you hungry?” Grey asks. “Do you want to go out and get some food? I clock off in about an hour, so if you don’t mind waiting…”

Peering down at myself, I frown at my just average office work attire – pale pink blouse, black pencil skirt, tights, and a pair of black patent heels.

“I’m not very dressed up.”

Grey runs his knuckles over my cheekbone. “You look gorgeous, Delilah. We don’t have to go if you feel uncomfortable, we could order something in, or there’s a pub around the corner. It does the best fish and chips I’ve ever tasted.”

My mouth waters at the thought of digging into a crispy chip, salted to perfection.

“With tartare sauce and a slice of lemon?”

“With tartare sauce and a slice of lemon,” Grey confirms with a nod.

“Okay,” I agree. “It’s a date.”

Chapter 26

Grey

Isqueeze Delilah’s hand as we walk the short way to the pub sitting on the corner of the street, reminding myself she’s here, that she’s willing to take the plunge and give us another shot. I know that can’t have been easy for her to do.

Grinning wildly, I push the heavy mahogany door open, ushering Delilah in before me. The pub isn’t packed, I hadn’t expected it to be what with it being a Wednesday evening, but there’s a few regulars sitting at the bar, their pints of foamy beer all at varying degrees of emptiness. Couples and families sit dotted around the place, a small toddler runs himself ragged and I can see two teenagers messing about in the arcade machines at the back of the pub, but it’s certainly not crowded.

Crossing the slightly sticky floor and the dated, crimson red carpet, Delilah picks a booth tucked away in the corner. She slides in first, while I take the spot opposite her, pulling two menus from the holder in the middle of the table.

I don’t bother to open mine, I only come here for the fish and chips, but Delilah opens hers, skimming through the multitude of classic pub food options.

The golden, boarding on yellow, light from the old light fixture hanging from the wall beside us, baths Delilah’s hair,the length and tip of her nose, the curve of her sweet Cupid’s bow. I take in it all, rubbing across the lines on her left palm mindlessly, feeling the softness of her skin, the solid warmth of her flesh, telling me she’s real.

“What are you looking at?”

“You,” I say, the truth rolling off my tongue. “I’m looking at you, thinking how I can’t believe you’re in front of me, that you’re here with me, and how I’m not going to screw it up this time.”

A pink blush crawls across Delilah’s cheeks, the bridge of her nose and part of her neck. It matches the pretty blouse she’s wearing, and when she leans forward, I can see it matches the pink bra she’s got on her tight body underneath.

“Can I get you two started with some drinks?”

Blinking up at the waiter, I reel off a half pint of beer for myself. “Delilah?”

“Can I have a glass of the house white wine? And a glass of water, please?”

“Sure.” The waiter scribbles down on his old-fashioned pad of paper with a pencil. “Any food?”

“Fish and chips for me, please.”

I hold up two of my fingers. “Make that two.”

“No problem, I’ll have that right out for both of you.”

Delilah waits until we’re alone again when she opens her mouth. I can tell she’s not nervous, but skittish, her fingers coming up to pluck at her earlobe.

“Are you—”

“Grey, do you think the press is going to find out about us?”

“Potentially.” I pause, gauging Delilah’s reaction, the sudden tensing in her body. “I’m not in the tabloids as much as I was when I was younger, but sometimes they still like to catch up on what I’m doing, yes.”

“And does that bother you?”

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