Page 101 of I Knew You Were Trouble

‘Does that mean youwillhold off?’

‘Yes. Now, I’ve got to go – lots of plans to make. See you in Amsterdam, cuz,’ she says, ringing off.

After the call, an odd thought pops into my mind.

Is it still called cock-blocking if I don’t have a cock? What’s the female equivalent? Box blocking?

‘Eww,no, Kate,’ I say out loud to myself.

‘What’s that?’

Willem is standing in the doorway to the bathroom, a towel wrapped tightly around his waist, his penis prominently outlined. The timing is uncanny, considering the whole cock-blocking tangent, and I stifle a laugh. ‘Er, nothing… That was Margot on the phone,’ I say, shifting the focus off me.

‘And how is she?’ he asks, coming into the room and rifling through his case.

‘She’s coming to Amsterdam,’ I say – ripping off the plaster Margot style. He stops what he’s doing and looks up, one brow arched. ‘All right, you need to stop that,’ I chide playfully.

‘Stop what?’ he asks, clearly baffled.

‘You’re standing there in a towel and you’re all…’ I cup my hands in front of my chest, then over my biceps – makeshift sign language to denote ‘muscly’ – which makes him snigger. ‘And now I discover you can raise one eyebrow? That’s far too much power for one man to possess.’

‘You mean this?’ He arches that brow again, then shrugs. ‘I can only do it on the right side. It’s not that impressive.’

‘Pretty sure that’s in the eye of the beholder,’ I assert.

‘Okay. And what else would you like to behold?’ he asks, his voice low and rumbly.

My breath catches as heat blooms between my legs. We’re supposed to be making travel plans before we check out, but all I can think about is round four. I haven’t even packed my case yet, and I don’t care. This is all very un-Kate-like behaviour, like a fresh, unbuttoned version of myself.

He’s still watching me, waiting for a response.

‘Oh, sod it,’ I say, slipping the straps of my dress over my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Willem grins at me, then untucks the towel and whips it off with a flourish.

I must say, we are getting our money’s worth out of this hotel room.

* * *

We’re in the lobby waiting to pay our room-service bill when I receive a message from Lucia:

Thinking of going to London for some family time. Would you be interested in meeting up later? I feel like we’ve got a lot more to talk about.

I suck in a breath through my teeth. I didn’t expect that Lucia would want to see me again so soon.

‘Is everything okay?’ Willem asks.

I hold up my phone so he can read her message. ‘Oh,’ he says, looking up to meet my eyes. ‘Would you rather return to London?’

We haven’t changed our flights yet. We got a little sidetracked, barely making the expected checkout time, so we’ll do it on the way to the airport. But I don’t want to go back to London right away. I already have my heart set on Amsterdam – other parts of me are set on it too.

‘Would it be completely mad to ask if she wants to come to Amsterdam?’ I ask.

‘Not completely, but won’t that affectourplans?’

‘And what are our plans exactly?’

In a fit of bad timing, it’s our turn in the queue. Willem asks the receptionist for the bill, but I’m quicker in handing over my credit card than he is – only fair because he paid for the room. He doesn’t argue like Jon would have. Then again, Willem isn’t a macho arsehole who has to pay for everything to feel like a man.

We don’t resume our conversation until we’re in the backseat of a cab, zipping once again through the narrow streets of Verona. I’d gawp out the window like I have before, but Ireallywant Willem to answer my question.

---