me to catch hold of his fingers. Is this how it’s supposed to happen? Falling for somebody, wanting to date? Is this what I really want to happen – letting fate step in and lead me to a man who makes me tingle, rather than trying to pick the perfect guy?
Our forearms briefly touch, the hairs on mine prickle, we’re walking in step and I realise I’m holding my breath. That the rest of the world no longer matters. If he kissed me now, I wouldn’t care who saw. I wouldn’t care that it’s wrong. It’s as though there’s just the two of us. Nothing else matters.
He slows the pace. ‘Rosie?’
I swallow. Is this it? Is this the moment when I throw out my rule book and let him kiss me, because I want him to so much and I’m prepared to risk being with a man who might be just like Dad? My heart is hammering, I can hear the thud in my ears.
‘Yes.’ I clear my throat, try to ignore the shivery anticipation that is threatening to break out of me.
‘That Steve guy, you’re going through with it?’ And just like that he’s burst the bubble.
It’s not the two of us. It’s a man and a girl striding along a dirty pavement.
‘If you mean, am I seeing him? Then yeah, tomorrow.’ I can hear the defensive edge to my voice.
I’d got carried away. I’d forgotten that he’s doing this because of some other guy, not for me.
He’s turned the heat up because he couldn’t help himself. Because he didn’t like the fact I’d been chatted up. Even though that’s what we are here for.
Dad is like that. He can’t help himself. He’ll be off on tour, flirting and romancing his way through concerts, through life, but he only wants Mum to want him. To have him.
As the thought runs through my mind for the first time, I realise it is true. The slightest mention of other men in Mum’s messages to him and he’d be home.
Not because of her, not because of us. But because he couldn’t bear the thought of her being happy with other people.
He couldn’t stand the thought of her doing to him what he did to her.
He was possessive, he got jealous – because to him, he was the only person who mattered. I don’t want a guy who’s like that. And I don’t want to feel like that about a guy – because every time there was somebody, something, who demanded Dad’s time and took him away from us, I was jealous.
I got angry. I felt hate.
I don’t want to feel like that.
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ I say stiffly.
‘Where are you meeting?’ There’s a gulf opening up between us that is far wider than the physical gap on the pavement.
‘Stacey’s.’ It’s a bar not far from where I live, and the moment Steve suggested it I knew it would be perfect. Casual, open, the type of place you have to shout a bit to be heard. Not the type of place that is uncomfortably intimate, or stiff and starchy. Fun.
‘I’ll go there with my date, then I can check you’re okay.’
Eurghh, why do those words ‘my date’ annoy me so much? ‘I’ll be fine. But thanks for the offer.’
‘You need me there, in case it turns out he’s a psycho.’
‘Gee ta, now I feel a lot better, big brother.’
‘Be careful, Rosie, I don’t want anybody to hurt you, to stop you believing in love.’
‘It’s only a date.’ I don’t get him, I don’t get what he’s so … well, scared of. What did he say? Love is fine until it goes wrong, until you lose it?
He stops, standing in front of me so that I have to look up and meet his gaze. ‘I’ll be there. It’s the least I can do. Make sure you’re safe.’
Safe from what exactly? Steve isn’t a threat, I’m sure of that. So, is it him, or myself I need protecting from?
‘And Rosie?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Your homework is to write a new list: the type of man you’d really like to have in your life. Not the one you think you should.’
‘I—’
He puts his finger on my lips to shut me up. ‘You don’t have to hand it in, it’s just for you.’
Chapter 13
Noah was right. Steve isn’t exactly my dream date. He doesn’t really tick any of the boxes on my new (not even committed to paper) list.
I thought I wanted, no correct that, I know that the type