good, who makes you feel like you can do anything.’
‘I do?’
‘We all do. Nobody wants their other half to be just part of the fixtures and fittings. Don’t settle for a doormat just because you think it’s the safest option. What if one day the doormat wakes up and realises you’re too good for it?’
‘What exactly have you been drinking?’
He doesn’t respond to that. ‘Work hard, play hard, jump off a cliff now and then.’
‘Okay, I give in, what are your three?’ He might have a point though. I’d never call Robbie a doormat, but he had been what I’d thought was the perfect guy for me. And look what happened there. He sloped off to Wales and found sheep.
‘Confident, brave, fun. Like you.’
I ignore the ‘like you’ bit. ‘Not sexy?’
‘Sexy comes with the other three. Have you not been listening to a word of today’s lesson, Rosie-Posie? Tut, tut. Right, I dare you to close your eyes and the next drink you point at on the menu is your pick.’
‘I’ll be drunk.’ I grin back at him.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does, I have—’ I’m about to say ‘a date’ tomorrow, but something stops me. I don’t want to spoil the mood. ‘Work tomorrow!’
‘You’ll be fine. Right next question.’ He pauses, then looks me straight in the eye. ‘What would you do if somebody cheated on you?’
‘Walk away.’ My shoulders stiffen. There are some things in life I have solid views on, and this is one of them.
‘No backward glance?’
‘Never. Nothing. Just walk away.’ I motion to demonstrate.
‘But what if you’d made a mistake? What if they hadn’t actually cheated? You just thought they had? Or what if they’d just made a horrible—’
‘One, I’d ask them straight out, so I’d know I hadn’t made a mistake, and two, cheating on somebody is not a mistake. If you love somebody you don’t do it, do you?’
‘True.’
‘It’s disrespectful, cruel, hurtful. It can ruin somebody’s life.’
He puts a finger under my chin, looks into my eyes. ‘Don’t ever let anybody ruin your life, Rosie. Only you have permission to do that.’
‘That’s an odd thing to say.’
‘It’s true. It’s your life, make the rules, change the rules, do whatever it takes.’
‘Do you?’
‘Always. Right, next question.’
We chat about dates, good dates, bad dates, about my fear of flying, and his spider phobia. Light fun, nothing serious or tricky, and it’s as easy as chatting to Bea.
‘So, you approve of my makeover?’ I’m not fishing for compliments. Okay, I might be a bit. But somehow, it’s important what he thinks, that he does find me sexy. Not because of him, of course, but that if he does then somebody else might.
‘It was a few tweaks, not a makeover.’ He twiddles a strand of my hair in his fingers, so that it tugs ever so slightly at my scalp and sends a funny feeling surging through my body, which shocks me so much I freeze. I vaguely remember a sensation like this, a hollowing of my stomach, a feeling of delicious anticipation. It was the first time Robbie and I had a proper grope in the porch at my parents’ house. Before Mum switched the light on and asked if we were going in ‘before we caught our death’. After that all I felt was that it was nice and meant to be. Not quite the same. ‘You’re practically perfect as you are.’ He is still twiddling, and his mouth is so close to my neck I can feel the warmth of his breath, and I forget about Robbie and squirm a bit.
‘Only practically?’ I laugh to cover up the fact that I need to shuffle away.
‘Seriously.’ He puts his hand over mine, gazes into my eyes. ‘I’m the lucky one here, thanks for giving it a go.’
‘That’s a line as well, isn’t it?’ I can hear the strained edge to my voice. The words are forced, but if I can joke, say normal things then I can keep this how it’s supposed to be.
Instead of letting it turn into something so tempting I want more.
‘Partly.’ He grins and sits back, and I know I should be heaving a sigh of relief, but instead feel disappointment. ‘Ready to hit the road then?’
‘Sure, fine! Lovely evening.’ Shut up, Rosie.
He holds the door open for me and I take a step out into the perfect night. Warm air, a beautiful clear sky.
As we set off down the road, his hand brushes mine. There’s a tingle, a strange need inside of