The party at Aiden’s house is in full swing when Alex and I arrive. A few people greet Alex as soon as he walks through the door, but he sticks to me like glue, and I’m grateful for it because parties have always made me uncomfortable.

Barely visible through the crowds of people I only vaguely remember from school, Vicky is dancing on the makeshift dancefloor in the lounge. She’s wearing one of her short sequined dresses, and it’s tight as a snakeskin on her, exposing her tanned legs strapped into high-heeled sandals. She’s glamorous, and involuntarily I scan my Audrey Hepburn-esque green dress, unable to suppress disappointment.

Alex looks in her direction and his face turns unreadable. It’s been only two weeks since France where we hung out every day of the trip, ate a lot of croissants together, drank litres of black coffee and even exchanged a few chaste kisses, but when he’s like this, I find him difficult to understand. Is he embarrassed by me? Has he changed his mind?

As soon as Vicky spots us, she waves exaggeratedly and makes her way towards us.

‘I’ll get us some lemonade and lime,’ Alex mumbles into my ear and disappears before Vicky gets to us. I’m a little pleased that he remembers my favourite drink but feel mixed emotions at his vanishing act. He’s been doing that a lot whenever Vicky’s around, probably sensing Vicky doesn’t exactly approve of him.

‘Do my eyes deceive me or have you arrived with the one and only Alex Bennet?’ I can smell booze wafting off her. I shrug dumbly, nervous all of a sudden. ‘What’s up?’ She senses my mood.

When I don’t say anything, she tugs me to follow her down to the toilet and locks the door behind us before I can protest.

‘Spill it.’

The confined space and Vicky’s insistence have me pouringout all my insecurities, ending with how he hasn’t kissed me since Paris. When I finish, she laughs. Vicky’s never been the emotional type so I didn’t expect her to be passing me tissues to cry into, but her blatant dismissal stings.

‘That’s weird.’ She gets a little distracted halfway through with her reflection in the mirror and starts smoothing her hair with her hand. ‘All the guys our age want to do is snog and you know.’ Giggling, she meaningfully raises her eyebrows.

Noticing my reaction, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. ‘I’m sorry, Holly. Maybe he’s not that into you. Don’t waste your time with somebody who isn’t a hundred per cent in it. You could do so much better than him.’At her words, I want to laugh. Alex is it. I know it. I’ve never felt like that about anyone, and if he doesn’t want me the way I want him, it will crush me.

‘Any advice?’ I feel faint, but I wait patiently for her guidance.

‘Play difficult to get so he tastes his own medicine. Guys like that. If he doesn’t take the bait, sod him.’

I don’t argue with her logic, but I’ve never been up for playing games.

After that, Vicky carries on partying, and I get a little lost in the crowd. Twenty minutes later, I’m ready to leave because Alex has disappeared to god-knows-where. I feel utterly stupid and pathetic. I’m ready to call Catherine and pour my heart out. She’d let me cry on the phone and listen to all my worries without a complaint.

Unshed tears brimming in my eyes, I head for the door only to be stopped by a dishevelled-looking Alex. His golden hairis mussed like he’s run his hand through it numerous times in frustration or like somebody’s hand combed through it in passion. I wince at the thought. His expression stops me in my tracks; he looks almost worried.

‘There you are. I’ve been trying to find you.’ His words come out gruff.

I think of Vicky’s words, but if Alex doesn’t like me, I’d rather know now.

‘It’s OK if you want to just…’ I vaguely gesture towards the crowd, encouraging him to do whatever he’s been doing the last twenty minutes.

‘What?’ His expression is startled. ‘I came with you because I want to be with you. I don’t really care for parties, to be honest. I just thought you wanted to go.’ He’s playing with the button on his shirt, and Catherine’s words resurface in my head. Maybe he’s shy. People don’t ever think that guys can be shy.

My heart pounds as I grab hold of his sleeve, drag us to the utility room and close the door safely behind us. The music immediately seems miles away. Because there’s nobody around us, I feel almost brave. ‘Why haven’t you kissed me since France?’ It comes out a bit breathless because his face is only a few inches away from mine. We’re the same height, and I like him like that. It’s like we fit, like we’re made for each other.

Instead of answering, he grabs me by the waist and presses his lips to mine with unexpected eagerness. It’s not the gentle exploring of each other’s lips like the last time; this kiss sends heat pooling to the pit of my stomach. My lips part and soon our tongues are touching and it’s beyond description. I can’t help exploring his body through the thin fabric of his T-shirt, my fingers tracing his back, his sides and his long arms.

He leans into me, and I can feel every part of his body against mine. Where he is lean and solid, I am soft. It’s perfect. He lets his hands travel down my waist to my bum, squeezingand pushing me against him. A strange breathy moan comes out of my mouth that I’m vaguely embarrassed by. At the sound of that noise, Alex growls. I think he likes that.

Eventually, we slow down, and when we pull apart, I feel bereft. His eyes are anything but unreadable, and what I see in them makes my cheeks flush.

‘Should we get out of here?’ His voice comes out hoarse.

Later when we sit in a small square nearby, sharing fish and chips, Alex is looking contemplative and torn.

‘I feel I should get some things straight.’ He rubs his hands against his jeans.

I stop eating, my knee starts bouncing nervously.

‘All I have thought about in the last year is you. I have dreamed of kissing you every day since the trip and even before that if I’m being honest.’ He rubs his face like he’s mortified. ‘I just thought…’ He trails off.

‘Thought what?’ I hang onto his every word.