The Piano Man Project Page 0,62

no fucking idea how much I want to say yes, the truth is that you’re lying to yourself. It wouldn’t be one night.’

‘It would,’ she pressed. ‘Hal, one night. No lies, no promises, no relationship. We don’t even like each other.’

Her words said one thing, and her tone of voice something else.

‘You’re not that kind of girl, Honey.’

‘I could be. With you.’

‘Liar.’

She thumped his leg out of frustration, then grabbed his hand and slammed it flat over her heart. ‘Can you feel my heart banging? You must be able to, because I feel as if I’m going to have a bloody heart attack here. I haven’t just plucked this out of the air you know. I’ve been thinking about this ever since the other night.’ She gulped and carried on. ‘Hal, if you don’t do this one thing for me, I’ll go out there and find someone else who will and it’ll all be your fault. I’m not even joking. My entire life is up in the air at the moment, and more than half of that is on you. You’ve woken my body up, and it won’t go back to sleep again until someone sings it a goddamn lullaby!’ Her voice rose in both volume and octave as she made her impassioned speech, the queen of her own debating society. ‘I want that person to be you, more than anything I want it to be you, but I swear to God, Hal, if not you then it’ll be someone else, and soon.’

She stopped speaking, finally, and Hal found his hands had moved to grip her shaking shoulders.

‘Don’t do this,’ he said. ‘You don’t mean it.’ Even as he said it he thought that actually, she sounded as if she meant every word.

‘Oh, I do,’ she said hotly. ‘I’ve had a bloody epiphany these last few weeks. Pianists. Campaigns. And you, Hal, you shouting and swearing and kissing me like no one else ever has. Is it so bad that I want you?’

Hal was rarely speechless, but this was one of those times. She was actually serious. Strawberry Girl, his beautiful, crazy neighbour wanted him – or to be precise, she wanted him to teach her how to orgasm.

‘You know how crazy this sounds, right?’ he said, scrubbing his hand over his stubble after a few moments of contemplation.

‘Yes,’ she said. He could hear how much depended on what he said next, so he chose his words with care.

‘Let me think about it, okay? Just promise me you won’t go out there dragging strangers in off the street when you leave here.’

She sniffed. ‘You’re not making this easy on me.’

He was tempted. Of course he was. He missed sex, the intimacy of a warm body against his, the mindless release. She’d woken his body from its slumber too, but unlike Honey it made him want to run a mile away rather than tumble into bed. If he gave her what she wanted, he’d be giving himself a fast pass to a place he didn’t want to go. A place he’d closed the door on, a door he’d had to brace his back against and fling the bolts across to keep it in place. Opening it was a monumental mistake, but saying no to Honey felt like a mistake too. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, or in this case a door and a soft, seductive, strawberry-scented place. He’d come here counting on the hope of making peace with himself, of saving his sanity, of forgetting, of learning to be the man he needed to be. He just hadn’t counted on Honey.

Standing up, he held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. Leading her to his front door, he walked her across the lobby to her own threshold.

‘There. I walked you home. No strange men tonight, okay?’

Her hand still warmed his; she didn’t let go. He felt her body rub against his as she rose on her tip-toes, and tasted the subtle longing in the brush of her mouth against his.

‘You told me that every date should end with a goodnight kiss.’

‘That wasn’t a date.’

‘You made me dinner.’

‘You see? Back there you said no dates. No complications. I told you you couldn’t do it.’

‘I can so. I’m a woman of the world,’ she said, and he felt her small smile against his lips. Hal had known many worldly women in his life, and Honey wasn’t one of them. He’d even loved one of those worldly