‘You’ve seen me naked now. You’ve had your wicked way with me. And you’re still looking at me like that.’
His smile drops into that gorgeous lopsided thing, the smile that got me all those weeks ago in Brighton.
‘Tiffany Moore,’ he says, ‘I have every intention of continuing to look at you in this fashion for many moons to come.’
‘Many moons!’
He nods solemnly.
‘How very charming and ingeniously non-specific of you.’
‘Well, something told me a suggestion of long-term commitment might have you running for the hills.’
I think about it, resettling my head against his chest. ‘I see your point, but actually, it seems to have just made me feel curiously warm and fuzzy.’
He doesn’t say anything, he just kisses the top of my head.
‘Also I would not be capable of running non-stop to the nearest hill.’
‘Herne Hill, maybe? You could take Herne Hill.’
‘Well,’ I say, turning on to my front and propping myself up on my elbows, ‘I have no interest in running to Herne Hill. I like the many-moons plan. I think it’s . . . hey, are you even listening to me?’
‘Yes?’ Leon tries, lifting his gaze. He smiles. ‘Sorry. You have managed to distract me even from yourself.’
‘And there was me thinking you were un-distractible.’
He kisses me, his hand moving to stroke rough circles on my breast. ‘Sure. Un-distractible,’ he says. ‘And you are . . .’
I already can’t think straight. ‘Putty in your hands?’
‘I was going to say, “excellently easy to distract”.’
‘I’m playing hard to get this time.’
He does something with his hand that nobody has ever done before. I have no idea what’s happening but it seems to involve his thumb, my nipple, and about five thousand prickly hot licks of sensation.
‘I’m reminding you of that in ten minutes’ time,’ Leon says, kissing his way down my neck.
‘You’re smug.’
‘I’m happy.’
I pull away to look at him. I realise that my cheeks are starting to hurt, and I think it’s genuinely from all the smiling. When I tell Rachel that, I know exactly what she’ll do: stick her finger in her mouth and gag. But it’s true – despite everything that’s happened today, I am sickeningly, dizzyingly happy.
He raises his eyebrows at me. ‘No witty comeback?’
I gasp as his fingers shift across my skin, tracing patterns I can’t follow.
‘I’m just working on one . . . Just give me . . . a minute . . .’
*
While Leon is in the shower, I write our to-do list for the next day and stick it to the fridge. It reads as follows.
1. Try very hard not to think about the judges’ verdict.
2. Get restraining order.
3. Talk to Mo and Gerty about, well, Mo and Gerty.
4. Buy milk.
I fidget, waiting for him to appear, and then give up and reach for my phone. I’ll just have to listen out for the shower.
‘Hello?’ comes Gerty’s muffled voice down the line.
‘Hi!’
‘Oh thank God,’ Gerty says, and I can almost hear her slumping back against the pillows again. ‘You and Leon worked things out?’
‘Yeah, we worked things out,’ I tell her.
‘Oh, and you slept with him?’
I grin. ‘Your radar’s back on.’
‘So I haven’t ruined everything?’
‘You haven’t ruined everything. Although, to be clear, it would have been Justin who ruined everything, not you.’
‘God, you are feeling benevolent. Were you safe?’
‘Yes, Mother, we were safe. Were you and Mo safe when you made up this morning?’ I ask sweetly.
‘Don’t,’ Gerty says. ‘It’s bad enough me thinking about Mo’s penis, you shouldn’t have to do it too.’
I laugh. ‘Can we have coffee tomorrow, just the three of us? I want to hear about how you got together. Vaguely, and with no penis-related details.’
‘And talk about how to get a restraining order?’ Gerty suggests.
‘Is that Tiffy?’ I hear Mo say in the background.
‘So sweet that he hears “restraining order” and thinks of me,’ I say, heart sinking a little at the change of subject. ‘But yeah. We should talk about that.’
‘Do you feel safe?’
‘Are we back on the contraception subject again?’
‘Tiffy.’ Gerty has never stood for my arts of deflection. ‘Do you feel safe in the flat?’
‘With Leon here, yeah.’
‘OK. Good. But even so, we need to talk about getting an emergency injunction to cover you before the hearing.’
‘An— wait, there’s a hearing?’
‘Let the poor woman think,’ Mo says in the background. ‘I’m glad you and Leon are good again, Tiffy!’ he calls.
‘Thanks, Mo.’
‘Have I killed your buzz?’ Gerty asks.
‘A little. But it’s all right. I’ve still got Rachel to call.’
‘Yes, go discuss all the sordid details with Rachel,’ Gerty says. ‘Coffee tomorrow, text us where and when.’
‘See you,’ I say, hanging up and pausing to listen.
The shower is still on. I call Rachel.
‘Sex?’ she says when she answers the phone.
I laugh. ‘No thanks, I’m taken.’
‘I knew it! You guys made up?’
‘And then some,’ I say, in an exaggeratedly sexy sort of way.
‘Details! Details!’
‘I’ll fill you in properly on Monday. But . . . I have discovered that my boobs have been underperforming for my entire adult life.’
‘Ah yes,’ Rachel says knowledgeably. ‘A common problem. You know there are . . .’
‘Shh!’ I hiss. The shower’s stopped. ‘Got to go!’
‘Don’t leave me hanging like this! I was going to tell you all about nipples!’
‘Leon is going to find it very weird that I have rung around my best friends after sex,’ I whisper. ‘It’s early days. I still have to pretend to be normal.’
‘Fine, but I’m scheduling in a two-hour meeting on Monday morning. Subject: Boobs 101.’
I hang up and a moment later Leon wanders in in his towel, hair smoothed back, shoulders gleaming with droplets, and pauses to examine my to-do list.
‘Seems manageable,’ he says, opening the door and reaching in for the orange juice. ‘How’re Gerty and Rachel?’
‘What?’
He smiles at me over his shoulder. ‘Do you want me to get back in? I figured I only needed to allow for two phone calls, since Gerty would be with Mo.’
I feel my cheeks flushing. ‘Oh, I, uh . . .’
He leans over, orange juice in hand, and kisses me on the lips. ‘Don’t worry,’ he says. ‘I plan on remaining blissfully unaware of how much you overshare with Rachel.’
‘When I’m finished filling her in she’ll think you’re a god amongst men,’ I say, relaxing and reaching for the orange juice.
Leon winces. ‘Will she be able to look me in the face again?’
‘Sure. She’ll probably opt for looking somewhere else instead, though.’
