things.’
‘And what is it that you wanted?’ John asked, all hope and anticipation.
‘I’m still working that out,’ I replied, looking up to the pink-painted ceiling, arms securely wrapped around myself. ‘I think it might take a while.’
‘Oh,’ he replied with an understanding but clearly disappointed nod, keeping his chin to his chest. ‘I get it.’
I couldn’t not smile. Once you knew how to read them his feelings were always right there on his face, he wouldn’t know how to hide them if he tried. I had got too used to trying to read between the lines, translate signs and search for things that weren’t really there. I’d forgotten what honest attraction looked like.
‘I think it might be time for me to make some bold moves,’ I said, reaching out and adjusting his tie. ‘Make some big changes. I’ve been trying to bring back the past, and that hasn’t worked out so well.’
John lifted his head in surprise. ‘Speaking as someone who has been doing all kinds of bold, some might say crazy, things lately, I approve of your plan,’ he said.
‘What kind of bold, crazy things?’ I asked, tilting my head back as he closed the space between us.
‘Oh, you know.’ He stopped right in front of me and I let go of his tie. ‘Roller skating, going to baby showers, throwing last-minute weddings and birthday dinners, dancing with strange girls at dark discos. That sort of thing.’
‘Sounds to me like you’ve lost it,’ I whispered.
‘I feel like I have,’ John agreed in his deep, low voice. His eyes were big and round and dark. ‘Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever since we met, I just can’t stop thinking about you. What you might be doing, where you might be doing it, wondering what I can do to spend more time with you.’
I didn’t know how to answer. No one had ever said anything like that to me before.
‘I’m sorry for the way I acted last weekend,’ he said, his words heavy with honest regret. ‘It was wrong and there’s no excuse.’
I felt myself slip into that other state, my eyes half closed, my lips tingling and everything around us warm and fuzzy and insignificant as something pulled us closer and closer together.
‘I was frustrated but I shouldn’t have been so aggro.’ He was so close that I could feel his breath on my skin. ‘And I definitely shouldn’t have kissed you like that.’
Our hands found each other, my left palm meeting his right, skin grazing against skin, with the lightest touch.
‘You’re right,’ I said as I lifted my face to look at him. ‘You should have waited.’
‘Waited for what?’
‘For this,’ I told him, pushing up onto my tiptoes, lifting my lips to meet his.
‘There you are!’
The door to the ladies slammed against the wall right before our lips could touch, my sister marching in with her bridesmaid’s dress over her arm, completely oblivious to whatever she might be interrupting.
‘How am I supposed to get this dress on?’ she demanded. ‘I’m literally a genius and I cannot work it out.’
John stepped backwards out of my arms, his eyebrows knitting together with regret at a moment lost. ‘I’ll be upstairs,’ he said, lingering in the doorway for a moment. ‘If you need me.’
I nodded and watched him leave, dizzy with denial.
‘Who’s that?’ Jo asked, stripping off before the door was even halfway closed.
‘That’s John,’ I replied. ‘He’s my friend.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The wedding was perfect.
No one got lost on their way to the new venue, we managed to dress Jo on time and my nan hadn’t offended a single soul in the entire seventeen minutes she’d been in the room.
‘I can’t believe you forced me into such a toxic heteronormative gender role,’ Jo grumbled as we made our way down the makeshift aisle between two groups of chairs. We really should have been clearer about the dress code, I realized, as I spotted two of Dad’s friends in actual tuxedos, Aaron from the garden centre in his shorts and flip-flops and Mum’s friend from yoga, whose name I’d forgotten, in a fascinator so fascinating three rows of people behind her could see absolutely nothing.
‘I know, I’m such a bitch,’ I replied sweetly, nodding at Ruby and Bill from next-door-but-one. ‘I’m forcing you to be an agent of the patriarchy, you’re doing one nice thing to make Mum and Dad happy. It won’t kill you.’
‘It’s a system of oppression,’ she muttered while doling out doe-eyed smiles to Janet from the garden centre.