Page 33 of Take My Hand

He frowned and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Do you want to leave?”

“Well, no, but I thought…”

Zak stepped closer, one cheek pushed into a half smile. His whole body was relaxed, and he had an air of confidence that I’d never seen in a boy before. In fact, I’d never met anyone like him before. Admittedly, I’d lived in a small town all my life but evenso, he was nothing like the stupid, childish boys I usually spent time with at school. Maybe it was what all southern boys were like; I had no idea, but I liked it.

“Maddy,” he said, his voice soft and coaxing. “Stay and watch a film with me. I want to watch a film with you.Iwantyouto stay.” He ran a hand down my arm, stopping just short of my hand, and then walked away. “Now, get out there before Amelia starts worrying you’ve done a runner.” He pointed to a door off the large entrance hall, to the right of an oak staircase. “You can get to the garden through the kitchen.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be in the lounge when you’re ready.” He pointed to another room and then ran up the stairs, leaving me alone, wondering how the hell I’d gone from Sunday breakfast with Dad to playing on a trampoline with the new hot boy’s little sister.

Zak was right, Amelia disappeared up to her room within minutes of the film starting. I don’t think the intro music had even finished before she said she was bored and going to read. Once she went, the atmosphere in the room changed. It became highly charged—well, I felt like I was on high alert at least. Zak still appeared relaxed at his end of the sofa, whereas I was pushing myself as close to the arm as possible. It was a huge, comfy, dark green velvet one, and it felt like I was miles away from him.

When we heard Harry Styles blasting from above us, Zak paused the film and turned his body to look at me.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” he asked.

The butterflies in my tummy took flight, and my heartbeat sped up. “S-sorry?”

“Why are you sitting right at the other end of the sofa from me? Don’t you want to be close in case you get scared?”

“How scary is this film?” I frowned because I was a wuss. Horror films weren’t my thing, but we had made the poor guy watch a romance film the night before… so…

“Enough that you’ll want to hide your face. Oh, and you might feel the need for me to cuddle you.” He said, arching an eyebrow and rolling his lips inwards.

My heart sank at the thought, but then the idea of snuggling up to Zak was a bonus.

“Is it gory?” I shuffled down until I was sitting next to him.

“There’s one part with the grandfather and a nappy, but that’s all I’m saying.” He took my hand and pulled on it. “Besides which, I like your perfume, and I want to be able to smell it.”

God. I felt sick. Excitement. Nerves. Trepidation.

Before I could think about it any further, Zak pulled me into his side, wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and turned on the film. I went as a stiff as a board. Even my eyes stopped moving. Then, when his thumb began to rub up and down, gently tickling my arm, I thought I might squeal.

“There’s a Coke there for you,” he whispered into my ear. “On the coffee table.”

In front of me was a can of coke and a glass with ice cubes in the bottom. “T- thanks.”

“Wasn’t sure if you’d want a glass or not.”

His accent. His deep, raspy voice. His thumb sending messages around my body.

He then shifted a little, propped his feet up on a footstool, and poked me gently in the side. “Relax. I’m not going to murder you.”

Then the film properly started, and we fell into silence. After a few minutes my body settled against Zak’s and I watched the film, but after only half an hour, I’d decided I didn’t like it. It wasn’t scary as such, but creepy. The cushion I’d grabbed was in front of my face more than not and Zak kept chuckling beside me.

“It’s funnier than it is scary,” Zak said with a laugh. “I can’t even take it seriously.”

“Why are we watching it then?” I jumped as the grandmother went scooting past the screen on all fours like some sort of animal. “Shit, this is weird.”

Zak let out a belly laugh. “You really are a wimp.” His hand came to my waist and tickled me. I squealed, squirming to get away from him.

“Zak, don’t.”

“Ticklish are you?” His eyes were shining with mischief.

“No.”

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