next . . .’ I trail off. There’s no need to explain with Adam. I know that he gets it. He gets me.
‘Hey, you got some grease on your chin.’ He gestures.
‘Oh, really.’ I go to wipe it, but he gets there first with his paper napkin.
‘You’re a messy eater, aren’t you?’ he teases.
‘I’m messy at everything,’ I laugh, and for the first time it doesn’t seem to matter. That I’m messy, or I’m late, or I’m eating pizza and dribbling grease down my chin, or that I talk too loudly, or that my hair is still that dodgy shade of purple from that bad dye job the other week. Because it doesn’t matter to Adam.
‘I think this is the best first date I’ve ever been on.’ I grin a little tipsily.
‘No, the police station was our first date,’ he corrects me, smiling.
‘That wasn’t a date,’ I retort.
‘Well, that’s when we had our first kiss,’ he says.
At the memory of our kiss, all my nerve endings start tingling. ‘So if this is our second date, does that mean we get to have our second kiss?’ I reply flirtatiously.
Well, I haven’t been suffering in this underwear all night for nothing.
‘I guess it does.’ He nods, sliding his hand round my waist and pulling me towards him. Before I know it he’s kissing me. And I’m kissing him back. And he’s sliding his hand up the back of my top. And—
Suddenly the buzzer goes.
I ignore it and keep kissing him.
It goes again.
‘Do you think you should get that?’ murmurs Adam.
‘It will be my roommate. She lost her keys,’ I say thickly. Flinging out my hand, I press the release buzzer for the main door and flick the latch. Gosh, Adam is a really good kisser.
I can hear footsteps pounding up the stairs. ‘C’mon, we should go to my room,’ I whisper, tugging at his T-shirt, worried that Robyn will walk in on us snogging in the kitchen.
£€div N€gh>
‘Just one more kiss,’ he whispers, his soft stubble scratching my face as he pulls me even closer.
Suddenly there’s a loud crash and the door slams wide open. I jump a mile. ‘Crikey, Robyn,’ I exclaim, laughing as Adam and I spring apart.
Only it’s not Robyn. It’s Nate.
It’s like being wrenched from a dream into a nightmare. ‘What on earth?’ I gasp in horror, as his grey-suited figure comes charging through the door.
‘What did you say to Beth?’ he demands without any introduction.
I stare at him speechless with shock. I’ve never seen him look so angry.
‘Who are you?’ asks Adam in total bewilderment.
‘What? When?’ I cry, finding my voice.
‘In Martha’s Vineyard!’
‘You were in Martha’s Vineyard too?’ Adam’s brow creases.
Suddenly the penny drops. It wasn’t Jennifer the real-estate agent I spoke to. It was Beth, Nate’s ex-wife. The Beth. ‘Oh shit, that was her who called our room?’
Adam turns to me, his face shocked. ‘Our room?’
‘She didn’t leave a message. I had no idea,’ I begin explaining, but my mind is reeling. All those years I built her up in my head to be this superhuman person, the girl Nate married, the one he chose over me, and yet she’d sounded so normal.
No wonder she hung up on me. She must have thought—
‘You were together?’ Adam looks at me, dumbstruck.
‘Please, I can explain,’ I try, turning to him, but Nate talks over me.
‘We’re always together!’ he cries in exasperation. ‘We’re never apart.’
‘That’s not my fault,’ I retaliate, wheeling round. ‘It’s as much you as it is me.’
Unknown
‘Now my wife thinks we’re having an affair.’
‘You’re married?’ Adam’s voice is quiet and he’s looking at Nate, his eyes flickÁ€his eyes £€ickÁ€hising over him, his mind racing.
‘I thought you were separated,’ I gasp.
‘We are, but . . . well, we’ve been talking . . .’ Nate trails off self-consciously. For a moment he looks down at his feet, then back at me. ‘We want to give it another try. At least she did. Before . . .’
There’s silence for a moment. Nobody says anything. I don’t think anyone knows what to say, least of all me. I feel numb, relieved, suddenly hopeful. If Nate wants to get back with Beth—
‘You’ve been having an affair with a married man?’
Adam’s voice snaps me back. ‘What? No!’ I spin round, shaking my head in furious denial. ‘No, it’s not like that at all.’
I meet his gaze, but gone is his warm faith in me. In its place is a cold, steely distrust. ‘Save it, Lucy.’
‘No, please, it’s not like that.’ I feel