‘You know what I mean, and I really appreciate your kind words.’
He gave her a smile then glanced at his feet, the skin next to his beard line looking slightly pink. She rubbed his arm. He really was the loveliest guy.
When they got back to the car, Sam went to the passenger door. ‘Your turn to drive. If you still want to.’
‘Yeah, I do. I enjoy driving and just look at this beauty.’ She ran her hand over the bonnet. ‘Sexy stuff.’
Sam shook his head, barely holding back a laugh. ‘Sexy? Right. I thought it was more practical, but ok, I’ll take it.’
‘Practical?’ She got into the driver’s seat and adjusted the seat and mirrors. ‘Sure, it’s that, but in a sophisticated, powerful way. Miaow.’ She made cat claws, then grasped the wheel.
‘Oh-kay…’ He gave her an amused look. ‘Is this a good idea putting you behind the wheel? We seem to have unleashed some kind of wild animal.’
She grinned, nudged the gear stick into drive, and eased the car out of the service station. ‘I think I’ll test it around the car park for a bit before we hit the motorway.’ She indicated and turned into the main car park, trying out the controls. ‘Oh, it’s so smooth. I’m stealing this car.’
Sam shook his head, a grin twitching at his lips. ‘If you say so.’
When they hit the motorway, she settled in, relaxing into the seat. ‘I haven’t done a long drive like this in ages. I’m looking forward to it.’
‘Me too.’ He moved the seat back, stretching his legs out and reclining a bit. ‘It’s nice to have a break. Normally, I’m the one glued to the driver’s seat for hours, so this feels like an actual holiday.’
They laughed, slipping into easy conversation as the motorway stretched on ahead. Time passed peacefully, the scenery shifting with the miles as they headed south, swapping stories and jokes. The chance just to spend time chatting was so nice. When they were at school, they were confined to a few minutes at break and lunch, but now they had hours to talk about everything and anything. By the time they got there, they would have put the whole world to rights.
They didn’t stop again until almost one-thirty. Clara was a little peckish and needed to wee. She wasn’t entirely sure where they were, but Sam said they were close to Manchester, and the road had got steadily busier.
She pulled into the next service station, easing the car into a narrow space. The air outside hit her like a wall – a mix of fumes and frying oil – as she stretched her arms over her head, vertebrae clicking in protest after hours in the car.
Inside, she made a beeline for the bathroom, splashing cool water on her face before rejoining Sam in the food hall.
‘Shall we be boring and get something from Costa?’ she asked, spotting the familiar red sign.
He followed her gaze and gave a half-smile. ‘Well, unless you fancy a Big Mac, I think boring’s our best bet.’
‘Not really.’ She grimaced. ‘The smell of McDonald’s fries makes me feel like I’m fifteen again.’
They joined the queue, each clutching a toastie in its crinkly wrapper. The place was packed – kids whining for chocolate, a man in a suit juggling three coffees, a steady hum of conversation under the hiss of the espresso machine.
‘This is a very badly laid out shop,’ Clara muttered as someone elbowed past to grab a bottle of water. She stepped back, straight into Sam’s chest. ‘Sorry!’
‘Not your fault.’ His hand landed lightly on her shoulder. ‘People have no patience.’
He glared at the woman retreating with her prize, then his fingers shifted slightly, brushing the top of Clara's arm – not lingering, but not pulling away either.
Heat bloomed beneath her skin, slow and deep. Sam wasn’t usually as tactile as her – if anything, he avoided unnecessary contact – but right now, he stayed close, his presence solid in the crowd. Maybe he was just being protective, making sure she didn’t get trampled. Fine. She could live with that. In fact, she liked it.
For a few heartbeats, the noise around them dulled to a soft blur. She let her shoulders relax against the hum of his nearness, eyes fluttering shut for a second. The world felt quieter here, safer.
By the time they reached the counter, he was still touching her. Then he stepped forward, hand leaving her shoulder as he reached for his wallet. The absence hit harder than she expected – a sharp little pocket of cold where his warmth had been.
‘Here. I’m buying this,’ she said, but too late – his card had already tapped the machine with a soft beep.
‘You are very naughty.’ She narrowed her eyes at him, fighting a smile. ‘But also, super sweet.’
‘Occupational hazard of a fake date,’ he said, collecting the receipt, and she giggled.
They lingered at the end of the counter, the air thick with the scent of coffee and toasted cheese. When their drinks and toasties were finally ready, they carried the tray to a small table by the window. Rain had started to mist against the glass, turning the car park beyond into a blur of grey and silver.
‘Better than nothing,’ Sam said, taking a bite of his toastie. ‘And the coffee’s usually decent.’
