Under the table, his knee bumps against hers again, and this time she doesn’t move away. His gaze meets hers across the table, a spark of something flying between them.
‘So how’s your dad?’ she asks, determined to keep the flow going. He doesn’t talk about him much. Then again, she doesn’t talk about her family, either, but she’s curious about the reason he came back to Bath. And after his declaration that he hates being stuck in one place, she wants to try and understand how long he’s planning to stay here.
‘Oh, he’s fine,’ Ash says, in that same non-committal way he always does. ‘So, Facebook tells me it’s your birthday in a few weeks. March the fifth, right?’
Lissa cocks her head. A wave of laughter carries over to them from somewhere in the cellar. ‘Facebook-stalking me, are we?’
‘It’s how I spend all my free time, Liss.’
She laughs, and tries not to notice the way the blue in his eyes sparks.
‘So what are you doing?’ he prods. He leans towards her, and his knee presses closer against hers. ‘For your birthday?’
‘Oh, probably just having drinks with Darcy and Mia or something.’ He nods serenely and she narrows her eyes. ‘Why?’
‘No reason. Just wondering.’ He grins, getting to his feet before she can press him on it. He gestures at their empty glasses. ‘Another round?’
She nods, and as he heads to the bar, she takes a slow breath, trying to ignore the way her leg immediately feels less warm without his pressed against it. Trying to remind herself of all the reasons it would be a bad idea to go there with Ash.
Trying – and coming up blank.
Chapter Seventeen
Lissa is so lost in the conversation with Ash that it surprises her when last orders are called at the bar.
‘I guess that’s our cue,’ she says, hooking her jacket off the back of her chair.
He moves behind her as they weave through the crowd to the door, his hand hovering just behind the small of her back. She’s aware of it being there, not quite touching. Aware of how easy it would be to move back into it. Of how much she wants to do that.
She welcomes the cold air as they climb the steps back onto the street, where the atmosphere is still buzzing, students out in force. They meander down the street, heading vaguely in the direction of Lissa’s flat but without any real purpose. Then Ash stops, looking over at a pub on the other side of the road where people are spilling out onto the street, the door propped open so they have a view of a band playing inside.
‘Hey, come on,’ he says, grabbing her hand. ‘That looks like fun.’
He pulls her across the road, not seeming to bother to check for traffic, and she laughs a little breathlessly as she goes with him. He doesn’t drop her hand as they reach the doorway, and she tries not to notice the way goosebumps are rising up her arm, grateful they are hidden by her jacket. Tries not to think about how all her attention goes right to that point of contact between them.
It’s the alcohol, she tells herself firmly. It’s making her light-headed and silly. But still, she extracts her hand with the excuse of looking in her bag for something. Safer, all things considered, not to touch.
The pub is warm and loud, with a makeshift dance floor cleared at the front where the band are playing. The female singer’s voice is low and sultry, the hoops in her ears dancing as she moves. Low lighting flickers from the corners of the room, candles on tables burnt down to their wicks. It reminds her of somewhere …
Somewhere underground, with dim lighting and flickering candlelight. Somewhere with a jazz band playing in one corner of the room, trumpets blaring, the singer’s voice rising over the hum of chatter. Where women spin in sequinned dresses and men lean against the bar in tailored suits and shiny shoes. Where the air is thick with sweat, perfume and liquor and the laughter feels slightly too loud, almost frantic – a tension that no one wants to look directly at.
A speakeasy, she knows. One she’s not supposed to be at. But she couldn’t resist the opportunity to see him again, to dance with him – not when she doesn’t know when he’ll be leaving this time.
Lissa blinks, the memory fading as Ash comes to a halt, his body, just for a second, held oddly stiff before he visibly relaxes, like it’s a conscious effort. Lissa realises why a moment later, and her stomach does a horrible, awkward squirm. Because that’s Mark walking towards them, his arm around a girl – petite, well dressed. Smiling up at him like she’s more than a little loved up.
He jerks to a stop a few feet from them, late to notice. He looks to Lissa first, and the smile fades from his face a little. Then he clocks Ash right next to her, seems to do a double-take. ‘Oh,’ he says, the smile now gone completely.
It’s ridiculous. They haven’t been on a date in months, and they see each other all the time in the office. Although they mightseeeach other, but they’ve fallen into a pattern of tactfully not talking, haven’t they?
‘Hi, mate,’ Ash says breezily. He smiles at Mark’s date. ‘Hey, Jen.’
She smiles back. ‘Hey.’ Jen, okay. She has a name, and Ash has met her, so she’s clearly not too recent.
Ash clears his throat. ‘Ah, Jen, Lissa. Lissa, Jen.’ He gestures between them at the introduction.
‘Hi, Lissa.’ Lissa does a sort of awkward wave back. Jen cocks her head. She’s wearing blue studs in her ears, and they glint a little in the dim lighting. ‘I’m missing something, aren’t I?’
A flash of a grimace passes over Mark’s face. ‘Lissa and I used to …’ He wafts a hand in the air and Lissa feels her cheeks flush. ‘I mean, not seriously,’ he adds quickly. ‘And not for a while.’
