I can change my mind.
“You,” says Ryan, “are a star.” And he leans over to kiss me in a way that makes my head sing. “An absolute star, Fixie. To Fixie.” He lifts his wineglass and my cheeks glow.
“What’s going on?” says Leila, coming into the kitchen, clutching Jake’s cigarettes.
“Fixie’s got Ryan a job!” says Jake, and he grins at me, a proper affectionate grin.
“Fixie!” exclaims Leila. “You’re brilliant!”
“Isn’t she?” says Ryan, his arm around my shoulders.
I feel warm and radiant, basking in all this approval. It’s so unfamiliar. It’s so lovely. Ryan leans over to kiss me again—and this time his hand creeps up my thigh—and any remaining doubts I had are swept away. I’ll get Ryan a job, he’ll love me for it, Jake will be impressed … everyone will be happy!
—
After I’ve finished clearing up the kitchen, we watch TV for a while—but I can’t concentrate. I’m too aware of Ryan sitting next to me on the sofa, his thigh brushing against mine, his arm draped around my shoulders. Are we really back on? Properly?
“OK, we’re off,” says Jake as the show ends, and Leila immediately gets to her feet. “Coming, Ryan?”
“Not yet.” Ryan gives my arm an invisible squeeze. “I’ll hang out here a bit longer. That’s OK, isn’t it, Fixie?”
“Fine,” I say, my voice a little thick. “Yeah. Why not?”
I don’t know how I’m managing to sound so calm when my brain is shrieking, He’s staying! It’s happening!
Should I quickly take a shower?
No. Do not leave his side.
Oh God, it’s been over a year. Do I even remember what I’m doing?
“Fair enough.” Jake raises his eyebrows at the pair of us, and Leila comes over to kiss me goodbye, her eyes dancing with excitement as she glances at Ryan and back at me.
“Fixie, you look lovely,” she murmurs in my ear. “But let me quickly … your parting …” I feel her tugging at my hair. The next moment she’s got the lip gloss out again and she’s smearing it on my lips. She’s giving me a touch-up?
“Thanks, Leila.” I can’t help smiling, and she clasps my hand fervently as though to say, “Good luck.”
And then they’ve gone and it’s the two of us. At last. There’s a breathless, silent beat—then Ryan leans over to kiss me properly, deeply, his hand cradling my head. I can feel my whole body responding. Remembering. God, I’ve missed him.
I hadn’t realized how desperate I was. Two tiny tears are leaking out of the corners of my eyes and I quickly blink them away, because I don’t want Ryan to think I’m getting all serious or anything. I’m not. It’s just I thought this might never happen again. Ever.
I keep catching my breath, because he’s even hotter than he was before. He’s so pumped up. His biceps are about twice the size they were last year. I run a hand over his broad, rock-hard chest and feel a wash of lust so strong, I can hardly breathe. But somehow I murmur, “Shall we go upstairs?” and he nods and leads me out of the room.
“How big is your bed?” he asks teasingly as we go up the stairs, and I realize he’s never been to my bedroom before. Last year, he was staying in an empty flat in Canary Wharf that belonged to some movie friend of his. We spent all the time there, on the luxurious super-king.
Well, mine isn’t super-king, but at least I changed the linen yesterday.
“It’s big enough.” I smile as I pull him into the room and we tumble onto my bed. We’re kissing and rolling back and forth and Ryan is unbuttoning my shirt, and I’m trying to unbutton his at the same time. Our fingers keep getting tangled up and at last I start giggling.
“OK,” says Ryan, sitting up, giving me a mock-serious look. “Enough. One at a time.”
He takes off his shirt and I suck in breath at the sight of his tanned, rippled torso. He looks phenomenal. I can see him checking out his own reflection in the mirror opposite, and I say admiringly, “You’ve been working out.”
“Yeah.” He nods matter-of-factly. “I bench a hundred kilograms every day.”
“Right,” I say, hoping I sound suitably impressed. “Amazing!”
I’m a bit hazy about benching levels, but that sounds enormous. I’ve got a pair of weights, but they’re only five kilograms each. How does he even lift one hundred up in the air? Does he have help? I’m about to ask, “Do you have help?”