face. Then I remember that we’re standing in full view of the others, so I grab his hand and pull him into an alcove.
“What are you doing?” he asks, bemused but following me obediently.
“Waiting until Steven leaves,” I say, staring around him at the entrance to the breakfast room.
“Okay,” he says agreeably and leans against me to look out too. I swallow hard at the feel of his body. He looks down at me, and, for an instant, the world is on hold. Then I hear Steven’s shrill voice, and it comes back.
He marches past our hiding place, muttering to someone on his phone. “Fucking rude,” he hisses. “The whole lot of them. Well, I’m not losing face no matter what anyone does. I’m going out with them even if the boredom kills me. Then I’m catching a flight back. I’m seeing Jack in an altogether different way. I never should have come here in the first place.”
“I’ll second that,” I whisper.
“I never want to see Jack again. And as for that little wanker, he’s the worst,” he carries on. “Mouthy little freak.”
“I think that might be me,” I say wryly.
Jack sighs. “It could be me. He often used to say I was a clean freak.”
“How did you not murder him in his sleep? You must be a saint.” I look at him as he gazes deliberately past me. “Jack, you like things neat and tidy. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“It can be a problem,” he says quietly. “Especially if I’m on edge.”
“I know that you tidy things in response to stress,” I say. When he stares at me in surprise, I reach up and cup his face. “Did you think you hid it?” He nods, and I pat his cheek. “It doesn’t bother me at all. Everyone has a coping mechanism, Jack. We need them with life. I read to escape stress and Tom goes for a run. You make things around you neat and tidy. The only time it would ever bother me was if you were making yourself poorly with it.” I look past him. “There they are.”
The others are walking out of the breakfast room, putting on their coats and talking loudly. I make a move to go after them, but Jack grabs me and eases me back into the shelter of his body.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “They’ll leave without us.”
“Good.”
I gape at him. “What?”
“Good.” He stares at me, something running over his clever face too quickly for me to analyse. “I meant what I said about spending the day together.”
“You did?” I say dumbly. “I thought that was for Steven’s benefit.”
He rolls his eyes. “I will never do anything for his benefit again. Not even being polite, apparently. Not after the way he talked to you and our friends.” I feel warmth kindle in my belly, and he smiles at me. “I’d really like to spend the day together, Arlo.” He hesitates. “I mean if that’s what you want. I can—”
“I do,” I say very loudly and far too fervently. It sounds like we’re standing at the altar together. I flush. “I mean, I do want to spend the day on our own.”
The thought of having him all to myself is delicious and warms my blood like a cup of hot chocolate.
“I know we’re here for Tom and Bee, but I have a feeling Tom won’t mind if we take time on our own,” he says worriedly. “He’s always been after me to stop allowing Steven to be such an arsehole, and he’ll see taking this day with you as doing exactly that.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I’m not sure God and all his heavenly angels could stop Steven being a wanker.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I’m being selfish. It’s just that I don’t care what Steven or my parents want. I want to spend the day with you, the man I truly want to be with.”
A powerful wave of jubilation roars through me but I stop myself from turning a cartwheel. “Sounds good to me,” I say demurely. “What are we doing?”
He flushes. “Well, I bought two tickets for the Van Gogh museum while you were getting ready this morning.” The proof that he’d been planning this since this morning relaxes a knot in my belly. He wrinkles his nose. “Is that too much? It’s two arty things in two days. Do you want to do something else?”
“I’m surprised you don’t want to go to that museum with Bee.”
He looks at me consideringly. “I just