Page 39 of I Knew You Were Trouble

I never had that sort of connection with Jon. We didn’t argue, we didn’t challenge each other’s thinking, we didn’t square off…

In contrast, there’s Willem.

I recall the flash in his eyes when he scolded us about our retribution plan. I mean, he was wrong, but at least he took a stance.

All Jon ever said was things like, ‘Oh, yes, I quite agree.’ Upon reflection, that made for a rather dull time. And I couldn’t say with any certainty what Jon stands for, what he believes.

Then again, I’m comparing him to an actual man; it’s likely that Jon’s entire personality is a construct the same way his fabricated life is.

It’s uncomfortable viewing the Kate–Jon dynamic from the outside, seeing it for what it really is – or was. How did I convince myself that what I wanted from a relationship was constant time apart and picture-perfect, film-montage-style dates?

I’ve been a fool.

‘Hallo!’ Willem’s voice draws me from my dark thoughts as he rides up on a bike, stopping next to me.

‘Oh, hi,’ I say, surprised he’s not in a car. ‘You’re riding a bike.’ The moment the words are out of my mouth, I recognise how stupid they sounded.

He looks down, pretending to be shocked. ‘So I am!’ When he looks up, his eyes are creased at the corners.

‘Sorry, that was a silly thing to say. It’s just… How are we getting there exactly?’

‘You don’t have a bike?’ he asks.

‘Not on me,’ I retort.

‘I mean with your accommodation. Margot said your host left bikes for you to use.’

More surprises – that Willem expects me to ride through Amsterdam, something that terrifies me after spending the afternoon dodging speeding cyclists,andthat he and Margot discussed this evening’s transportation without me knowing.

I haven’t responded, and Willem dismounts, rocking his bike onto the kickstand. He walks over to the houseboat, stopping next to the two bikes parked out front. I’ve passed them several times and it has never once occurred to me that they’re for us to use.

‘These are probably the ones. Do you have your keys?’

‘Oh, right,’ I say, delving into my handbag.

I hand over the keys and in no time at all, he has unlocked one of the bikes. He walks it over to me.

‘How tall are you?’ he asks, running his eyes from my head to my feet.

Heat floods my insides. I can’t remember the last time a man looked me up and down like that – especially one as good-looking as Willem.

‘Uh, five-eight,’ I reply.

He nods, then raises the seat a couple of inches.

‘Try this,’ he commands and without thinking, I comply, climbing on. Though I can’t quite reach the ground with my feet and the bike wobbles. I’m about to topple off it when Willem catches me around the waist one-handed, his other hand reaching for the handlebars. For a moment, I’m pressed against him and he smells so damned good, I have to stop myself from nuzzling his neck.

After a few long moments, he gently releases me. I ease off the seat and stand, straddling the bike frame.

‘Sorry about that,’ he says gruffly.

He reaches behind me and adjusts the seat again while I attempt to ignore each of thefive timeshis hand bumps against the back of my legs.Is he doing that on purpose?I wonder, hoping like hell he is.

‘Try it now,’ he says, stepping back.

I look up at him and he’s watching me intently.Frisson. The word pops into my head and it instantly strikes me how right Margot was. Thereisfrisson between us.

I climb back onto the bike seat, now able to reach the ground. Willem nods, satisfied. ‘Oh, you can ride a bike, yes?’

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