Her voice is lower and raspier than he’s ever heard and it does something to him, making him forget everything else but the feel of her soft hair between his fingers as he places a hand at the back of her neck and dips his mouth down to meet hers. She tastes like lipstick and pink cocktails.
Inside, the wedding band sings a song about fireworks as Alfie feels them explode in his chest.
His lips are gentle at first. He kisses her like she’s something precious, lightly cradling the back of her head, stroking the nape of her neck with his thumb. With the other hand he brushes a strand of hair away from her cheek.
‘Is this OK?’ He pulls away just far enough to search her face for any sign to stop, his eyes liquid as they meet hers.
But to her surprise Tilly doesn’t feel like stopping.
‘It’s good, really good,’ she murmurs, then bridges the gap between them again, pressing her lips against his, more firmly this time.
He hesitates for the briefest of moments before responding with a renewed heat, gripping her more tightly, one hand sliding to the small of her back and pulling her close so their bodies lock together. His lips part and she darts a tongue into his mouth, making him shiver.
‘God, Tilly,’ he groans into her.
The sound of it makes her lips spread into a grin, smiling as she continues to kiss him.
‘You’re sure you’re OK?’ he murmurs, pausing to catch his breath.
His shirt is wrinkled from where she’s been gripping it beneath his jacket, and his hair sticks up from where she just ran a hand through it.
‘You’re sure you want this? Because we can stop …’
‘Iwant this,’ she says firmly and his eyes flash, then he is lifting her by the hips and sitting her down gently on the wooden table behind them.
Her dress hitches up as she opens her legs and he stands between them, bringing his hands to her hair again and kissing her hard. It’s her turn to let out a noise now as he holds her tightly. She tugs at the back of his shirt, untucking it so she can slip her hands up, needing suddenly to feel his warm skin, drinking in the feel of him beneath her hands. He draws in a sharp breath as she drags her fingernails ever so lightly down his back.
‘Tilly,’ he says breathlessly.
And then he is dipping his head to kiss the soft skin on her neck and she mouths his name too, holding him against her and feeling both safe and as if she is falling – aching and gloriously, miraculously alive.
The sound of music and laughter from inside makes them both turn as the balcony door slides open and a group of Raj’s friends tumble outside, chatting and rifling through bags for cigarettes and lighters. They glance in the direction of Tilly and Alfie but then return to their conversation, heading to the far end of the balcony, away from them.
Alfie’s arms are still wrapped around Tilly, her dress rumpled. And Tilly can’t help but laugh, tipping her head back. Alfie laughs too then kisses her on the forehead, stepping back and holding out his hand to help her down from the table.
‘Well,’ she says, smoothing down her dress. ‘I think I need a cold drink after that.’
‘I think I need a cold shower,’ Alfie says in a low voice, making Tilly’s stomach flip.
‘Not sure I can manage that, but how about two mojitos?’
‘I can go,’ he says, moving as if to leave, but she lifts a hand to his chest.
‘No, you stay here. Don’t go anywhere, OK?’ She grins as she gives him a final kiss on the cheek.
Alfie is grinning too.
Alfie watches Tilly leave, trying to catch his breath. He can still taste her and feel the imprint of her fingers on his skin. It was everything he promised himselfcouldn’thappen … but god, it felt so good. And she seemed to come alive in his arms, kissing him back harder than he’d expected, running her hands up his back and making his entire body melt.
As she kissed him, it felt for the first time in a long while as though maybe everything could work out OK. Maybe theycouldfind a way to save the bookshop. Maybe he could be more to Tilly than her friend. Maybe he could believe in ahappily-ever-after again – and slowly, gently, perhaps he could even make her believe too.
The balcony door opens and he wonders if she is back already. But it’s Raj who stumbles outside, his jacket gone and his shirt hanging untucked on one side. His friends wave and call to him from the other end of the balcony and he raises a hand in greeting, gesturing that he’ll be over in a minute. Then he weaves unsteadily towards Alfie, slumping down in one of the chairs.
‘Alfie, mate. Good to see you.’ He says it with the warmth of someone who has been a friend for years, not someone who Alfie only met for the first time today.
It makes Alfie smile; all day he’s been made to feel so welcome. Like he maybe could belong here among these people.
‘Having a good night?’ he asks.
