A Season for Second Chances(37)

The gray morning light draped itself across the slow-breathing mound beneath the black-and-white-striped duvet cover in the bed. Annie rubbed her sore neck and tried to sigh quietly. The thing about having puckered up with the same person for half your life is that you know instinctively what type of kiss you’re getting into: which way they’re going to lean, for example, or the ratio of lip to tongue action; your methods are tried and tested. By contrast, locking lips with someone new, while exciting, was not without its hazards.

The portents were there from the very beginning, when they both tilted their heads in the same direction, banging noses so hard that it brought tears to Annie’s eyes. On the second attempt, Paul thrust his tongue so deep into Annie’s mouth the moment that their lips met that she actually squeaked with surprise and bit it. Keeping faith in the old third time lucky adage, they went for it again, with gusto, to try and kickstart the nonexistent pizzazz, which resulted in their teeth cracking together so violently that the crown on Paul’s front tooth snapped off, and Annie almost swallowed it. She had expected to fizz with passion in all the right places when their lips met, but to her disappointment nothing stirred; it was, she mused, a bit like kissing her own knee.

They eventually gave up and took their frustrations out on the pool table, which was undeniably fun but left Annie’s full-body wax sadly surplus to requirements.

The mound in the bed snorted and stretched.

“Are you awake?” Paul asked.

“Yes,” said Annie.

Paul shifted. The light from his phone cast a beam across the ceiling.

“What time is it?” asked Annie.

“Seven fifteen,” said Paul. “Do you want some coffee?”

“No, thanks,” said Annie.

Silence blanketed the room. Annie wanted to get back to Saltwater Nook. She wanted to have a shower and brush her teeth.

“I’m going to go,” said Annie. “I’m stiff as a board.”

“Pity I can’t say the same,” said Paul. The gap where his crown ought to be whistled on his Ss.

Annie laughed.

“You should have taken the bed,” he said, as Annie made groaning sounds reaching for her boots.

“I don’t mind,” she said, wishing she had.

“I can drive you,” said Paul.

“I’d like to walk,” said Annie.

“Probably just as well, I’d better get to the emergency dentist.”

Annie pulled a sympathetic face. “Does it hurt?”

“Not as much as my pride.” Paul chuckled. “I’m sorry about last night. I don’t understand it, it was like . . .” he trailed off.

“The oomph was absent?” Annie offered.

“Exactly!” said Paul. “We should have been great.”

“We should have,” said Annie.

“It wasn’t you,” said Paul. “I think you’re amazing, you’re sexy and funny . . .”

“It wasn’t you either,” said Annie. “Maybe some people just don’t have the sex-spark.” Annie laughed. “I guess this makes us just good friends?”

Paul nodded and shook her outstretched hand. “Just good friends.”



* * *



—

Annie noticed that her arms ached as she tramped down the hill; she’d probably used muscles in their pool contest that hadn’t seen a workout in quite some time. Pity the table had seen more ball action than she had, she mused.

Although now that the initial disappointment had worn off, she felt a certain peace about her lackluster encounter with Paul. She’d had no expectations, after all. She wasn’t looking to start a relationship. She wasn’t even looking for a fling. She had simply wanted a bit of fun, a bit of attention, to feel a warm body against hers and feel the flutter of flirtation: by that measure, well, mission accomplished.

Annie reasoned that calamitous kissing with Paul was actually the best thing that could have happened. What if the kissing had been amazing and they’d gone on to have mind-blowing sex? Then they would have felt bound to have more and more sex and eventually they would find themselves pursuing a relationship, which was exactly what Annie did not want. Yes, thought Annie, thank heavens for passionless pashing!





Chapter 30



High in the sky the seagulls were circling and even after this short time, Annie knew there must be a fishing boat out on the sea. Sure enough, a glimpse through the trees showed Ely’s trawler bobbing gently just out past the buoys. It was funny, she thought, how quickly she was getting used to life on the coast; how familiar it all felt, almost as though she had lived a past life in Willow Bay and returned to pick up where she had left off, like one of Willow Bay’s ghosts.

The sea today was deep green and lapis blue mixed, like the body of a bluebottle fly.

Strolling slowly, Annie let her gaze land on Saltwater Nook. She stopped dead in her tracks. Max’s car was pulled up next to hers. Her cheerful mood deflated. She was too far along the promenade to turn back, and if she did, where would she go? She supposed she could walk back up to Paul’s house; she was sure he wouldn’t mind. But she didn’t really want to revisit the scene of crimes against coitus just yet.

Max got out of the car and gave her a cheery wave. Annie groaned. Goddammit, she thought as she waved a heavy arm in response, the man’s a bloody psychic vampire, coming round here and siphoning off my perfectly good Sunday mood.