Page 89 of Untether

‘And was the orgasm that followed it not also excellent?’

‘It was,’ she owns.

‘So…’

‘Can we take it day by day?’ she pleads. She runs her palms lightly up my arms before interlocking her hands behind my neck. I tug her in closer.

‘I want it,’ she admits. ‘I really do. A lot, actually. But, honestly, putting a label on us is less important to me than how we actually are together. I think we need to see how this works in practice. But yeah, I agree you should meet Pip and Kit if you’re serious about this. Even if I won’t be throwing labels around when I introduce you. Does that sound okay?’

That sounds more than okay.

58

CAL

At around the same time on Friday that I was seducing Aida in my home with my excellent skills, both culinary and sexual, Rafe was proposing to Belle. And it sounds like his skills were right up there with mine, because I’ve never seen my mate look so fucking perky on a Monday morning.

His perfect happiness is a welcome distraction.

The trailer forSearching for Paradisegets released today after a successful, and total, embargo on the show’s existence, and it’s fair to say I’m nervous. Not for myself so much as for Aida, who’s positively bricking it. I hated letting her go yesterday afternoon, knowing how much she’s steeling herself for the depressingly inevitable backlash.

A “middle-aged”woman (her term) hooking up with a younger sex club owner to rediscover her sexuality: we’re both confident the tabloids will find the most judgemental, reductionist, lurid way to spin our situation and that the British public will positively rejoice in tearing her down for it. God forbid she should emerge triumphant from the farcical conclusion of her marriage.

All of which makes me even more determined to be there for her. And I will. I’ll stick to her like fucking glue this week, see if I don’t.

But first, we’re doing a coffee toast to Rafe, our intrepid explorer and the first of our little foursome to propose lifelong, till-death-do-us-part commitment to another human being. When you think about it that way, it’s really something.

‘Tell us everything,’ Gen begs, as if three million messages weren’t exchanged over the weekend on our group chat. ‘So she was totally shocked, yes?’

Rafe crosses his knee over its opposite ankle and sits back, all contented ease now he’s secured his future happiness. ‘Totally fucking gobsmacked,’ he confirms, grinning to himself at the memory. ‘She kept remarking on how quiet it was. I had the string quartet set up just outside that sweet little room that’s all panelled in Fragonards, and she was like “What a shame these people are playing such beautiful music and there’s no one around to appreciate it.” She didn’t click at all, until I went down on one knee, and then… Yeah. She clicked.’

Jesus, my eyes are wet. I blink furiously as Gen lets out a squeal.

Maddy’s bouncing up and down. ‘She still won’t tell me what you actually said to her. Even though I spent most of Saturday night begging her.’

‘Yeah, we agreed we’d keep the specifics between the two of us,’ Rafe says. ‘It’s private, you know? But thanks for coming over on Saturday,’ he says to Zach and Maddy. ‘She needed someone to talk it all over with—we both did.’

‘You couldn’t have kept me away,’ Maddy retorts, and we all laugh.

‘What’s important is she said yes, mate, and you looklike the happiest man alive,’ I tell him. Usually, I’d be tempted to take the piss a little, because I’ve never seen him hit over the head quite so hard with the love stick, but I can’t knock a man who’s this happy. Can’t take away from this moment.

‘Yeah.’ He nods slowly, like he’s trying to absorb the fact himself. ‘She definitely said yes. It’s odd. Obviously, I engineered the entire evening around her, and I wanted to make it as special as possible, but seeing her face when she realised what I was doing—she was so fucking ecstatic—I tell you. I’ll never forget that feeling as long as I live.’

There’s a silence during which Zach gives an enormous, wet-sounding sniff.

‘Jesus Christ, mate,’ I say, pinching the bridge of my nose in an effort to stop my own waterworks.

‘So, engagement party here, I assume?’ Gen asks with excellent comic timing, and we all crack up.

‘Can you imagine?’ Rafe asks. ‘Belle’s dad would cough up a bollock if we held it here. No, I think we’ll aim for somewhere a bit more conservative. The Mandarin or the RAC Club.’

‘Bring it,’ I tell him. ‘We’ll all be there to embarrass you. You set a date for either?’

‘Not exactly, though we spent the entire weekend talking about it,’ Rafe says. ‘Probably late spring for the wedding—neither of us wants to wait. And we’ll get the engagement party sorted for a few weeks’ time. The most important thing is that Belle’s brother Dex can make it.’

‘He’s in New York, right?’ Zach asks.

‘Yeah, at Goldman Sachs.’

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