Page 53 of Still Falling for You

‘I’m not still into him.’ I trail off because I know this is a moot point now. I slide a look in the direction of the guy in the dressing gown. He’s now crunching on salt and vinegar crisps while unashamedly eavesdropping on my conversation. I try to move out of his earshot.

Lydia sounds determined. ‘Maybe you should stop overthinking it and just give him a second chance. Jump his bones and see what happens next. You’ll both feel better after. You two have this suppressed sexual tension vibe and it’s been killing me.’ I appreciate her straightforwardness but can’t fathom why she’s so pro-Alex.

Catherine surprises me by saying, ‘Whatever you want, Holly. You decide where this goes. Just make sure that you want it for the right reasons and not because of what’s happened to your dad.’

I peek from behind the palm tree and catch Alex turning, ready to go. I’ve never been more uncertain of what to do in my life.

‘I asked Jane for a different mentor. Finally, I was done with him.’ I’m not convincing anybody here. ‘He doesn’t know what he wants, and frankly, I have no freaking clue what I want. This is not going to end well.’

Alex starts walking away.

‘He’s leaving. I don’t know what to do.’ I panic.

I can just about hear Lydia’s haunted voice, a surprisingly good imitation of Gary Oldman, ‘I did my waiting! Twelve years of it!’ Catherine must give her a look because Lydia grumbles and stops.

I realise I don’t want him to leave.

‘I have to go,’ I say as a goodbye and hang up.

23

Only when I’m rushing after Alex do I realise I have no idea what I’m going to say. I’m momentarily distracted because fresh air hits my face and cuts through my shirt like it’s paper-thin. That’s when I remember I left my coat by my dad’s bed. Shivering, I search the surroundings, but Alex has disappeared. My bag slides off my shoulder and hits the ground, half the contents rolling out onto the wet pavement slabs. ‘Oh bollocks,’ I mumble, unable to suppress anger over my bad timing and clumsiness.

A familiar figure pulls away from the wall, and I blink rapidly as Alex strides towards me and helps me pick up the stuff that has spilt out of my bag.

I quickly grab the more embarrassing items like my emergency tampon pack and a nasal spray, and Alex passes me my lipstick, charger and a pair of backup tights. This is all done wordlessly without once looking up.

However, when he passes me my phone, which now has a cracked screen, I finally venture to glance up. He’s looking all apologetic like it’s his fault it’s broken.

When we’ve picked up all the stuff and both stand up, I say, ‘He’s going to be fine,’ at the same time Alex asks, ‘How is your dad?’

I carry on because I feel like I owe him more. ‘He was lucky my mother called the ambulance straight away. She saved his life.’

‘I can’t believe you still call her Mother,’ he says, disbelief and amusement curving his lips upwards.

‘She would probably disown me if I called her anything but Mother.’ This time his lips curl in a definite smile.

After a pause, I mumble, ‘Thank you for the lift.’ I shift from foot to foot. ‘And for taking care of me.’

Nodding, he scratches the back of his head, and the muscles in his arm pull the fabric of his shirt taut against his skin. If I didn’t know him, I’d say he’s nervous. His demeanour is the complete opposite of his usual closed-off manner, like something has shifted inside him since our last encounter. He hesitates before he asks, ‘Do you need a lift home?’

‘That would be…’ I can’t quite find the right words but finish with, ‘…I’d like that.’

Once we’re inside his car, he surprises me by saying, ‘Does your mum need anything? We can always swing by her house.’

I shake my head. ‘I’ll stop by tomorrow before I go to see my dad. Do you need me to give you my address or should I direct you?’ I start saying when I stop abruptly at the sight of his freckled fingers tapping my address into the satnav.

His cheeks flushing, he grips the wheel hard as he pullsout of the car park. ‘I’ve got a good memory,’ he mutters. My stomach does a somersault.

When he pulls up in front of my flat, I shift sideways to face him. His proximity in the small space is intoxicating, and all I want to do is drown myself in him, to forget about my dad and everything else complicated in my life right now. Including what’s going on between us.

‘Do you want to come upstairs for a cup of tea? After all, that’s the least I can do after today.’ I try to keep my voice steady but fail.

‘You don’t have to.’ He waves his hand. The engine is still gently rumbling around us, and I’m starting to think that maybe I’ve read too much into this.

I wet my lips because they feel suddenly dry. ‘I want to.’ The words are a bare whisper, but at the sound of them, he kills the engine. I tell myself to be brave as I breach the space between us and kiss him. It’s a soft kiss, and his lips are so warm I want to stay like that forever, but I make myself pull away. When I do, Alex’s expression is unreadable.

‘OK,’ he croaks.

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