International Player(54)

I giggled. He was cute. More confident than I’d first thought and although he started off handsome, he seemed to get better looking as the evening went on, despite me only drinking half a glass of champagne.

We disagreed over books. He liked Hunter S. Thompson while I preferred something a little more real like Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronte.

We agreed on The Last Jedi—we settled on a score of seven out of ten.

After we both decided that neither of us wanted pudding, we wandered out onto the pavement, and I was a little unsure about what was next.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he said.

It felt good to hear that from someone who seemed like such a great guy. A great guy who wasn’t Noah. “Me too,” I replied.

“I think you’re beautiful and interesting and I want to do this again.”

My stomach didn’t quite do a somersault, but there was definitely movement. “That would be really nice,” I said.

He caught my hand as I tucked my hair behind my ear, and skimmed his thumb over my knuckles before placing a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll try to hold off on calling you until tomorrow, but I’m going to hold you to a second date.” He held his arm out to flag down a passing cab.

As I climbed into the cab, I couldn’t fight the surprising sense of relief that swept through me that he’d kissed my cheek and hadn’t tried anything else. I liked him. He was sweet and good-looking. We had things in common, and I’d enjoyed my evening with him. He was thoughtful and charming enough without it being cheesy. In any number of ways he was far more suitable for me than Noah would ever be.

But he still wasn’t Noah.

I wasn’t blanketed in goosebumps when he smiled. I didn’t melt when he touched me. I didn’t want him like I longed for Noah.

I turned to face the back window as the cab pulled away, and I waved at James, who was standing in the street waving back at me.

And at that moment, I knew that kissing someone who wasn’t Noah wasn’t an option. Which only told me that kissing someone who wasn’t Noah was exactly what I should be doing. Despite knowing it was what was best, it still felt wrong. Nothing but being with Noah felt right.





Twenty-Nine





Noah


While falling solo from twelve thousand feet, I should have been concentrating on something other than Truly Harbury. But she was all I could think about. I took a seat on the changing-room bench, trying to figure out what this girl had done to me.

“You okay?” Michael, my instructor, came into the room, unzipping his overalls.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Was it anti-climactic? You handled that like a pro.” This last jump that I’d just completed was the end of the Free Fall course, and I was now qualified to skydive on my own.

“Are you going to join the club?” he asked.

I shook my head. It had never been my intention to take skydiving up as a hobby. I wanted to complete the course, get certified. That’s all I’d focused on. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What made you take the course?”

“The challenge,” I said.

“So you didn’t enjoy it?” Michael asked.

I pulled on my trainers and began to lace them up. “Yeah. The peace up there? The views. It’s incredible.”

“Exactly. That’s why we all do it. The feeling of freedom. The private views. So, why not join the club?”

I had loved it. But I saw no point in continuing it. I’d experienced it. I knew I could do it. Why keep doing it? “I think I like the sense of accomplishment. And if I joined the club I’d risk getting bored. Walking away now means the memories will always stay fresh.”

“Wow,” Michael said, pulling on his jeans. “That’s brutal, mate. So you never keep doing anything you like to do too much in case you stop liking it? Shit, when did you give up sex?” He laughed.

He’d got it wrong. It wasn’t that I stopped doing things I liked doing in case I lost interest. More that my interest was getting good at things—the fight, the challenge. The enjoyment for me was in the journey. Once I knew I could do something, I didn’t see the point anymore. I never got bored with sex, although I was never with a woman for long enough . . . Shit. Did I apply this philosophy to my sex life too? Was that the reason things with women never lasted long? And how did Truly fit into all this?

I pulled on my t-shirt and grabbed my phone from my jeans pocket. “I’ve gotta go. Thanks for getting me down in one piece. My mother’s grateful.”

I shook Michael’s hand and headed out to the car, dialing Rob as I went. “I’ve just come up with a crazy theory that I need you to talk me out of,” I said as he answered.

“Has anyone successfully talked you out of anything in your life?”

“Probably not, so I need you to up your game. Are you around tonight?” I asked. “I thought I’d come over.”

“Let’s go out. Abigail and I just had a row. We need a night off from each other. I’ll get Truly to come around to be with Abigail, and I can be your wingman for the evening.”

I wasn’t interested in going out but being somewhere where Truly and her sister weren’t when I floated my theory to Rob was for the best. I’d known for a while that my feelings for Truly were different to what I normally felt, that she was special. But something was holding me back from telling her, saying that I wanted more than casual sex.