Page 103 of Fundamentals in Flirting

“Fuck, Hannah. You feel amazing,” Teddy groaned, his hands cupping my arse while I moved my hips as he thrust up towards me.

Bracing against his chest, I established a punishing rhythm, riding him until the build-up of sensation low in my belly already started to unravel, my breaths turning to pants. But it was the sight of the man beneath me coming undone that really switched things up a gear, his moans and tightening grip indicating to me that he was getting close. His eyes never left mine. He remained fixated on my movements. Observant and committed, he matched me, the continuing battle of our bodies getting close to their final crescendo. This push and pull between us was so vital, so consuming, that I leant back, letting go and releasing the cacophony of fireworks in my brain, surrendering to the total oblivion of everything other than the pulsating pleasure coming from our point of contact. At the same time, he arched up into me, climaxing with an incoherent shout, every line of him taut and unyielding. And I collapsed on top of him, my limp body against his damp chest, his heart thundering in my ear as he cradled me in his arms.

Well, that was pretty bloody epic.

And yet, not entirely unexpected. Eighteen-year-old me was correct all those years ago, my naïve little heart having seemingly picked an absolute corker of a lover after that first, devastating kiss. But this time there was no doubt in my mind about how I felt. No doubt whatsoever. No, this time I knew with absolute certainty that I was truly, hopelessly, and unashamedly in love with Teddy Fraser.

And he loved me back. Which was really quite nice after all.

ChapterThirty-One

Stretching out under the covers with a sigh, my bed seemed conspicuously empty. There was not a hint of another being – only the rumpled covers, a pleasant soreness between my thighs, and a lingering citrus scent giving any indication that Teddy had been here at all. For the entirety of the previous evening and night, we’d not left the bedroom except for snacks. But where was he now? Had he gone and run away again?

My brain was catapulted into wide-awake mode. The angry honey badger was stirring, growling, and getting ready for defensive manoeuvres as necessary. I sat up and scanned the bedroom, and out of the open door into the living room, which had been tidied after our bout of passionate wrestling yesterday. But there was still no evidence of a six-foot-three architect anywhere. There was no sound of the kettle boiling or the shower running. It was silent. It screamed of emptiness and imminent heartbreak.

While indignation and ire began to burn up my throat, my gaze came to rest on a pink sticky note sitting on the pillow next to where my head had been lying only a moment ago.

Stop freaking out. I have not left you and run away to join a monastery. I had agreed to meet Agnes this morning, and you seemed a bit tired after your exertions (which were spectacularly nice, by the way). Come over to her house if you want? Or I’ll call back in to see you later. T x

Then a text came through on my phone.

Ted: Read the note on the pillow, you lunatic.

Shaking my head, I fired off a quick “see you soon” reply and headed to the shower.

* * *

It was another glorious summer morning, and a warm, fresh breeze ruffled my hair as I made my way up the path to Agnes’s house. The side gate was open, and I followed the sound of music and laughter round to the back of her quaint, tumbledown cottage, ducking under trailing honeysuckle and avoiding the snagging brambles that reached out trying to catch my clothes like grasping fingers. From my secluded spot, half-buried in the hedge, I had a prime view of the garden, and I took a moment just to observe.

“Teddy, you waltz very well.” Agnes was beaming and her diminutive frame clutched onto him as they spun in circles to the crooning and slightly crackling voice of Frank Sinatra coming from a large wind-up gramophone sitting on the picnic bench.

“Well, you do me the honour of being a very graceful dance partner,” he replied, smiling down at her affectionately.

“I really do appreciate you fixing that old record player for me. It belonged to my father, a dusty old relic he held on to, claiming it sounded so much better than the modern ones. But I’m coming to think he may have been right after all.”

“You’re welcome. It was a fun little project to keep my mind off things.”

“Things?”

“Hannah,” he admitted sadly, and my stomach dropped.

“But you two are good now, right?”

“Yes, I think so. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I just don’t want to mess things up, Agnes.”

She tutted loudly and smacked him on the arm.

“Now stop it. You’re not going to mess anything up. You’re too hard on yourself, young man.”

He smiled. “I really do love her.”

“And she really loves you too. That treasure hunt of hers was quite nauseating, actually.”

“Wasn’t it just?” Teddy snorted. “But I absolutely bloody loved every single second of it.”

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