He didn’t mention the TikTok clip of her helping him up. Not surprising.
‘Sooo .?.?.’
This was awkward. Normally, Ally could talk to anyone, but Real William was someone who, it seemed, was comfortable talking mostly about the things he was interested in, like his sporting hobbies and his favourite books, which she almost certainly hadn’t read. It was going to be a challenge but, dammit, she was up for it. This was simply a matter of getting to know him. In fact, he was probably feeling the same way about her.
For a moment she felt the contrast with Pete, with his long legs, easy presence and wry sense of humour, lounging on her sofa, but immediately dismissed it as unfair. He might be magnetic in one sense, but she’d already seen what would be in store for her if she got involved. Anyhow, she’d made the decision to move on from The Owl’s Nest and get back to some version of her old life, which would be much less stressful, she reminded herself – less greasy hair, less pounding heart and mystery splodges of unidentifiable substances.
William swung round to her. ‘I was really glad to see you there on Thursday.’
‘Wow, good. Thanks .?.?. OK.’
There was a long pause. Hold your nerve, thought Ally, this is normal for William.
‘I didn’t know what to make of you when you worked at CC,’ he volunteered at last. ‘I thought you were good-looking but I wondered if you weren’t a bit – no offence – bonkers.’
Fair point.
‘But then last Thursday, you seemed .?.?. different. Calmer. And I thought .?.?. wow, she’s really nice.’
OMG that totally confirmed the theories in herLove Linksbook. She had aninsecure attachment style, which made her achaser. And that was totally counterproductive, because once she calmed down and stopped chasing, it gave people a chance to come to her, instead of driving them away.
He’d found her baffling and didn’t know what to do with her,which was totally fair because she hadn’t known what to do with herself a lot of the time. It was quite endearing, actually. She felt a surge of warmth towards slightly naïve, intellectual William. She could definitely make him happy, she thought.
She indicated his beer. ‘Will you have another? It’s only nine thirty.’
Nobody was suggesting you could solve anything with alcohol; however in William’s case, a moderate amount seemed to release him from his self-consciousness.
‘I don’t normally go out on a Sunday night. I like to be in bed by ten thirty at the latest.’
Thankfully, Ally resisted the temptation to quip, ‘Yes, but whose?’
In fairness, he was going to prove a bit of a challenge. She thought back over thelove typesbut he didn’t fit into any of them – then again, neither did she. But they were alone together, in her apartment, with sleepy fish and a melting skull candle – a scenario she’d dreamed of for months – and if something wasn’t going to happen now, then when?
He’d gone into one of his silences, staring straight ahead, when suddenly he put down his glass, turned around and ducked in to kiss her. Taken by surprise and still holding onto her glass, all they managed to do was clash teeth. Instead of laughing at the ridiculousness of it, he got terribly embarrassed and began to apologise, while she protested that it was no problem, and then they awkwardly tried again, which did remind her of their first fumbled kiss against the pub wall. He slid his hand up under her fluffy jumper as she quickly sucked in her stomach, given it was post-Sunday dinner and not her thinnest time of the week.
He swivelled his tongue around her mouth for a while, during which she realised the central heating had just clicked off, plus the woman upstairs had started some late-night hoovering. In short, something wasn’t quite gelling.
Instinctively, she pulled back.
‘You know what, William? I think you’re right. It’s a work night. I don’t want you to feel under pressure.’
Was she imagining it or did he look slightly relieved?
‘Yeah, I just came round to talk, I didn’t mean to .?.?.’
‘I know, me neither,’ she slightly lied. It was time to make her move.
‘I was just thinking, William, I know we met up that time in the Cornerstone and .?.?. well, that was a bit of a mad night. We were both fairly well on .?.?. and I said I was terrified of extreme sports, but that was rubbish .?.?. really. I mean, I love trying new things.’ Dear God, what was this unmitigated shite coming out of her mouth? But she was on a roll. ‘So I was wondering, would you like to meet up during the week and go .?.?. rock climbing or canoeing or something?’ Oh God, what madness. She had no clue how to do either.
He brightened immediately and sat up. ‘Would you like that?’
‘Absolutely. I’d love it.’
‘It’s too wet and slippery to go to the cliffs,’ he said without even cracking a smile at the childish double entendre. ‘But we could go to the climbing wall.’
Even the words felt terrifying, but there was an impulsive part of her that felt compelled to jump first, think later.
‘Now, I’m not very experienced .?.?.’
