Page 65 of Take a Moment

‘We so do.’ Sasha’s tone becomes resolute. ‘I’m going to sort it – this weekend. And I’m going to apply for jobs in Birmingham as soon as I’ve done it.’

‘Good for you. You can sleep on my sofa bed if you need to for interviews, and while you find your own place.’

‘Thanks, Lex. Once again, you’re the best.’

‘You too.’ I smile affectionately at the phone. ‘Now go and pump yourself full of self-love and confidence. Good luck.’

A few hours later I’m camped out in front of the TV, laughing my way through back-to-back episodes ofFriends. I’ve nothing but my duvet and some apple slices with peanut butter for company. And I’m completely content. Just months earlier I’d have wrinkled my nose in distaste at the idea of lounging around like this, and pulled on my running shoes. But having gotten used to the slower pace of life imposed upon me, I’m starting to appreciate that a bit of downtime is good for the soul. Especially when the rain outside is almost horizontal – and I have a date with a gorgeous man to look forward to (and be fit for) the next day.

Just as I’m checking tomorrow’s forecast on the BBC Weather app for the third time, my apartment buzzer sounds, making me jump. Assuming it’s a delivery person trying random apartment numbers to get access to the building, I ignore it. Someone else will let them in. But moments later the buzzer sounds again. I reluctantly get up and pad across to my apartment door, lifting the receiver for the door entry system.

‘Hello?’

There’s no response.

‘Anyone there?’

Still nothing.

Emitting an exasperated sigh, I return to the sofa, make myself comfortable again and hit play on the remote. The well-loved characters of Ross and Rachel immediately spring to life, playing out one of their many hilarious but flawed romantic encounters. I’m just settling into the episode again when there’s a knock at my apartment door. I quickly grab the remote and pause the episode, joining Ross and Rachel in a real-life freeze frame. I’m not expecting anyone. Not even a delivery. Deciding they must have the wrong apartment, I maintain my statue-like pose, listening for the sound of departing footsteps. But there’s no movement, and seconds later there’s another rap at my door.

Irritated by this intrusion and the fact that I’m having to get up again for no reason, I walk to the door, unlock it and yank it open.

‘I think you’ve got the wrong…’ I tail off in shock as I take in the masculine form standing in front of me. ‘Dom?What are you doing here?’

Chapter 22

‘Surprise.’ Dom grins sheepishly at me, his dark hair soaked from the storm outside, beads of rainwater running down his face.

I stare back at him, utterly bewildered. ‘I’m not sure that’s the appropriate… whatever… Dom, what are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?’

‘Can I tell you inside?’

‘Eh… yeah, I guess so.’ I step back and let him in.

Dom tentatively enters my postage stamp of a hallway and I close the door. The lack of space – and him clearly not wanting to presume that he’s going to be invited in properly – means we end up standing uncomfortably close, to the point that I can feel his breath on my neck as I turn away from the door.

‘Go on through.’ I usher him towards to my kitchen-living room.

‘This is nice.’ He strides into the room more confidently, like an estate agent sizing up the potential for sales commission. ‘It’s compact but has a nice aspect, and a balcony too. You’ve done well for yourself, kitten.’

I flinch at the use of my old pet name.

Realisation dawns on his face. ‘Shit. Sorry. Old habits and all.’

‘It’s fine. Do you want a cup of tea? And a towel?’

‘I’d love a brew, thanks, Lex. Can I at least call you Lex?’

‘Whatever.’ I shrug, this being far from the main thing on my mind.

I bring Dom a towel from my storage cupboard and busy myself making the tea as he lingers by the French windows, inspecting the shared garden beyond.

‘You not feeling so great today?’ He shoots me a sympathetic look.

‘Why do you say that?’

‘The human-sized dog basket?’

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