Gully nodded. “Since New Orleans.”
“You never said anything.”
“I didn’t want to lose your friendship because when I said those words it would change everything. It’s just changed everything.”
“That’s why you agreed to be the dad.” It made sense. Lots of sense.
My heart thudded in my chest. Pieces of a jigsaw clicked together and I started to see a picture I very much liked.
“I wanted a kid as well. I wanted to be a dad so it made a lot of sense anyway. But yeah, I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time.” He didn’t look away from me, his expression more serious than I’d ever seen it.
I didn’t have the words so I threw my arms around his neck and crashed my mouth to his, glad when he held me a little tighter as I felt I was about to take off.
The kiss was fierce, without grace or sophistication, with desperate need instead, in the hope it would convey how I felt without the words. It took Gully all of about two point five seconds to take charge, directing the kiss to calm it, slow it down, remind us both that we were totally in public and now wasn’t the right time to cinder each other’s clothing.
Eventually we stopped, still holding each other, still looking in shock at each other because this had been a revelation that neither of us had been anticipating today, in the middle of a pretty city miles away from home.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I took a photo of your kiss.” A young woman, probably not much more than twenty, came up to me.
She took a second look and frowned. “You’re Iris Winter – the photographer Iris. Oh my god, I want to be you one day!”
We relaxed the hold we had on each other. Any further declarations would have to wait a short while.
“You want to be a photographer?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I’m studying at university at the moment in London. I’ve been following your career; your work is phenomenal. I’m embarrassed to show you this – it’s just I actually read an interview with you and you said never pass up on a moment that should be captured, and that kiss – it needed to be captured. It was swoon-worthy.” She brought the picture up on her phone.
It was a really good photo, the depth and clarity perfect, and somehow she’d managed to focus so it captured the intensity too, the rest of the scene blurring around us.
“Portrait mode?”
She nodded. “And a couple of other tricks. I know it’s just my camera’s phone but it works well. Shall I send it you?”
“Please. How about I give you my email and if you’ve any questions you can ask me? I owe you for taking this.” It was a perfect picture, a perfect moment. “It was a really special moment that you’ve caught.”
She beamed. “I’m Layla Morton, anyway and I have a million and one questions. I promise I won’t stalk you.”
I gave her my email address, although she insisted on airdropping the photo to me now so I had it. I didn’t say no, wanting to set it as my wallpaper on my phone and everywhere else already.
“I feel like that was divine intervention or something.” Gully grinned at me when Layla left us. “The photographer being photographed.”
“It is an amazing photo. It’s perfect.” I looked away from my phone and at him. “Like what you said was perfect.”
He nodded, just once. “So we’re clear. You know I’m not interested in sleeping with or dating anyone else? Just you.”
“I understand.”
His smile came with a shake of his head. “If there are any words you’d like to say back to me, feel free. You know, it’s notlike I’m out on a limb here, having just declared exactly how I feel about you.”
I was going to be smug for a while longer. “You know, I bet that’s really annoyed you.” We carried on walking in the direction of the hotel, heading to the bridge to cross over the River Ouse.
“What? That we were interrupted before you could tell me how I rocked your world?” Gully was grumpy.
“That Layla recognised me and not you.” I was definitely enjoying this now. It was usually Gully who was recognised and that was usually by women between the ages of twenty and sixty who all wanted to pander to his ego and tell him what a wonderful author he was and how he wrote their favourite books of all time.
He shrugged, his eyes bright. “It’s good for you to get a bit of attention from time to time, helps your self-esteem.”
I elbowed him hard in the ribs.
