Page 55 of Obsession Under the Southern Stars

“I know. But that’s not what I want, and I don’t want to be talked into it, Joel.”

He looks away then, out of the window, across the courtyard. He’s towel dried his hair, and it’s all ruffled and tangled on top, and he’s sporting a couple of days’ beard growth. He’s wearing a faded navy tee with a pair of old swim shorts, and his feet are bare. He’s so scruffy, but oh my God, he’s so gorgeous.

I know I’ve disappointed him. I feel a strange twist deep inside at the thought. I don’t want him to stop liking me and flirting with me and teasing me. But it’s just not fair on him to keep him hanging on.

“Do you wish you hadn’t bothered to save me now?” I joke.

He gives a short laugh and brings his gaze back to me. “I wish you’d talk to me,” he says. “I know you’re hiding something.”

“I’m really not.” But my face heats, because I am, and we both know it.

He spots the blush, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he finishes off his soup, then collects both the bowls, takes them over to the sink, and rinses them before putting them back on the tray.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks.

“Better, thank you.”

“Good. You look better. What would you like to do now? Do you want to go back to bed?”

“Not really,” I admit, although I am still tired.

“Want to watch a movie?”

I nod, pleased that he’s not going to push me, but that he still wants to spend time with me.

“Come on.” He gestures with his head, and so I grab my water bottle and follow him into the living room.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asks.

I curl up in the middle of the sofa and wrap the throw around me. “I honestly don’t mind, as long as it’s not depressing. And notTitanic.”

He chuckles and starts flicking through the channels. After a few minutes, we settle on the version ofPride and Prejudicewith Matthew Macfadyen and Keira Knightley.

“Would you like a coffee?” he asks. When I nod, he disappears into the kitchen.

I nestle down into his hoodie, pulling the throw around me. I’m tired, and I’ll probably doze off at some point, but I’ve seen the movie several times, so it doesn’t really matter.

I think about what I’ve just told him and wonder whether it’s going to change our relationship going forward. Sadness sweeps over me like a wave in the ocean. I wish he hadn’t pushed me to explain. I wish we’d been able to stay the way we were, flirty and fun. But I’m an archaeologist so I know all about carbon dating and radioactive decay. My half-life might be a lot less than 5,730 years, but the principle is the same. Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. It’s the way of things.

A few minutes later, he reappears with two cups of coffee and hands me something he was carrying under his arm—a hot water bottle. It’s not cold in the room, but I take it gratefully and cuddle up with it.

I wait for him to sit in one of the armchairs, but instead he sits next to me at the end of the sofa. “Come here,” he says, and he holds up his arm.

I stare at him in surprise. “I thought…”

“You thought I’d give up on you?” He flicks his fingers at me, and when I lean against him, he lowers his arm around me. “You should know me better than that, Zo. I told you, I always get what I want.”

“You’re not going to change my mind.”

“Did it ever enter your head that I might want you regardless of your thoughts on the future?”

My mouth opens, but no words come out. His gaze slides to it, and his eyes turn sultry. He’s thinking about kissing me.

“Um…” I moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue. His lips curve up, just a little.

“I don’t believe you,” I say eventually. “You’re just saying what you think I want to hear, and you’re assuming that if we start dating and I fall for you, you’ll be able to change my mind.”

He shrugs. “You can think what you like. Doesn’t make it the truth.”

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