My Year of Saying No - Maxine Morrey Page 0,33

Seb. He had a calmness. A stillness in his soul that you couldn’t help but be affected by. The only thing that worried me was just how much I was affected by it.

‘Want one?’ He offered the box of chocolates he’d bought.

‘Ooh! Any I’m not allowed to take?’

He wrinkled his forehead. ‘No. Of course not. Choose whatever you like.’

I took the orange cream and bit in, closing my eyes in delight at its yumminess.

Next to me, Seb laughed. ‘You look like you’re enjoying that way too much.’

I bumped against him. ‘Oh shoosh. I just haven’t had one of those for ages.’

‘Because some were off limits before?’

Glancing briefly from under my lashes, I saw him watching me. ‘It wasn’t that they were off limits. More that I knew my ex really liked them, so I just always left them for him.’

‘Even though you liked them too? Surely he wouldn’t have minded sharing.’

I shrugged. ‘I guess.’ Honestly, I wasn’t so sure, but as all that was in the past now, it didn’t seem to matter too much.

‘There’s another one there. Have that too.’ Seb pointed to the corner of the box.

‘Don’t you want one?’

‘Nope. I eat pretty much everything in this box and having seen how much you enjoyed the first one, I don’t think I could now deprive you of another.’

I laughed, taking the sweet and popping it in my mouth. ‘Thanks,’ I said, around it.

‘Pleasure.’

Seb picked another chocolate out of the box without looking as the lights began to dim in the theatre. Without thinking, I squeezed his arm in excitement and he momentarily, and very gently, laid one large hand over mine in response.

The room quietened, the curtain rose and up on the stage, the set for act one was illuminated. I sat in the low light, feeling the warmth and strength of Seb’s shoulder against mine as his broad frame filled the seat and did my best to concentrate on the action about to unfold in front of me, and not the man beside me.

Exiting the warm fug of the theatre into the cold, brisk air of the night took my breath away. The clear sky of earlier had been replaced with a layer of cloud from which hung the vague threat of snow. I shivered and wrapped my coat tighter around me.

‘You all right?’

‘Yes. Just chilly after being in there.’

‘Here.’ Seb held out his arm and I tucked my own around it as we walked quickly back towards the car park, gratefully accepting any and all transference of heat from his warm bulk to mine.

‘Thanks for a great night,’ I said, pulling away as we got to the entrance of the car park. By the direction he’d walked from when I pulled up, I guessed his car was nearer the entrance. I knew he had a disabled parking badge, but it wouldn’t have surprised me in the least to find out that he didn’t use it. ‘It was lovely to meet you in person.’

‘And not horribly awkward after all?’

I grinned. ‘No. Not horribly.’

His smile broke the shadow of his face. ‘I’ll walk you to your car.’

‘Oh, it’s fine. You don’t have to do that. Just go and get warm.’

He began walking towards my car, reaching back and tagging my arm when I didn’t immediately follow.

‘Do you ever listen to people?’ I asked.

‘All the time. When they speak sense.’

‘What’s not sensible about what I just said? In fact, I’d argue it was eminently sensible. You going to your car, which was closest, and getting warm is good for your health. Ergo sensible. Faffing around, needlessly walking me to car when I’m quite capable of finding it by myself is less so.’

‘Finished?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. So, here’s my counter. I have no doubt that you’re capable of finding your car by yourself. That’s not why I’m walking with you. I just prefer, for my own peace of mind, to see you safe and sound to your car.’

‘It’s not far.’

‘Doesn’t have to be. Bad things happen, Lottie, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you that I might have been able to prevent.’

‘You’re not an Avenger, you know.’

‘No. This is true. More’s the pity.’

‘It is a pity.’

‘Thanks.’ He gave me a look. ‘I’m not trying to be macho or anything. I know you’re capable of looking after yourself and all the rest of it. This is just me. Maybe it’s old-fashioned, maybe it’s because of what I did for a living, maybe it’s just the way I’m built, but I