The Piano Man Project Page 0,33

that sorry about something so knee-tremblingly good, but she didn’t want it to make their fragile friendship awkward. ‘It was completely my fault. I promise not to do it again. I won’t even mention it, if you like.’

Hal smirked. ‘Talking, Honey. I was referring to talking. You’ve been banging on my door for days asking to talk to me, so here I am. Now talk.’

Panic set in as she finished off the last of the wine between their two glasses.

‘I was just trying to be neighbourly. Friendly. I thought we’d become friends.’

‘Did you? Do you kiss all of your friends like that?’

‘We just agreed never to talk about that again.’

‘Did we? Only I think you said it and I didn’t answer. Not that I want to talk about it, because you were spot on when you said it wasn’t going to happen again.’

‘For the record, seeing as you didn’t say we were never going to talk about it, no, I don’t kiss all of my friends like that, Hal. I’ve never kissed anyone else like that in my life. Or rather, no one else has ever kissed me like that before in my life.’

Hal put his glass against his lips and let it linger there, and then set it down slowly. ‘Well, maybe this Robin guy will. You better go easy on the garlic on Friday, just in case.’

‘Noted. Thank you,’ she said, stirring the bolognese for something to do. ‘I doubt it though. He still lives with his mother and the best thing Nell could think of to say about him was that he had good hair.’

Honey ran her eyes over Hal’s rumpled dark hair, which was probably longer than he usually wore it and all the sexier for it. It constantly looked as if he’d been pushing his hands through it, and it made Honey want to push hers through it too. She picked up her wine glass to give her fingers something else to do.

‘Will your special knickers get another outing on Friday?’

Was he flirting? It was difficult to tell with Hal, because sarcasm was his modus operandi.

‘I might wear my Saturday pants, just to confuse him,’ she shot back, and then realised that she’d basically just said she was planning to show Robin her knickers, which she categorically wasn’t.

‘Lucky Robin,’ Hal murmured, raising his glass to his lips. ‘My bolognese and your Saturday pants. The man’s in for a treat.’

Honey’s hands were still begging to reach out and touch him, so she turned back to the stove and stirred the sauce. It looked amazing, easily the best thing she’d ever made, which admittedly wasn’t difficult given her limited repertoire.

‘Robin won’t see my pants, just so we’re clear.’

Hal laughed. ‘How do you expect him to make you orgasm if you insist on keeping your pants on?’

‘Piss off, Hal. This whole stupid idea is destined to fail, because for one I don’t have sex with strangers, and for two, as everyone and his uncle seems to know, I don’t orgasm.’

‘Well, it’s not because you’re frigid. I can tell you that much and I only kissed you briefly. In fact, you wanted sex with me and I’m practically a stranger.’ He shrugged. ‘Don’t discount Robin too soon, that’s all I’m saying.’

You kissed me too briefly, she thought, taking a mouthful of wine and remembering how his kiss felt.

‘I never said I was frigid, and you’re not a stranger, Hal,’ she said softly.

‘No? What am I then?’

He was definitely flirting, and it frightened her. She’d lost him for days after the last time they’d strayed over this line, so why on earth Honey said the thing she said next was anyone’s guess.

‘You’re my neighbour. And my friend. And the only man who’s ever touched me and made me think that I might be able to orgasm after all.’

For a few moments the air between them sizzled hotter than the pan on the stove.

Honey lost her nerve and broke the silence first.

‘How long should I let this cook for?’

Hal’s breath left his body in a strangled hiss and he coughed a little to clear his throat before he spoke.

‘Low and slow is the rule with food like this. Leave it to do its magic for a good couple of hours. It’s even better if you can cook it the day before you eat it.’

The way he’d muttered ‘low and slow’ caused Honey’s stomach to perform low and slow somersaults.

‘So how come you’re such an expert on bolognese?’ she asked, aiming to