‘There is nothing wrong with…’ I was about to tell her that there was nothing wrong with her bum, but again I held back. To know that would be admitting that I had studied it more than I should have.
Boundaries, Gabriel.
‘If you cannot indulge yourself a little when you are on holiday, then what is the point of life?’ I said diplomatically.
‘Easy for you to say,muscle man!’ she added as we climbed the steps.
I raised my eyebrow.
‘You have been looking at my muscles?’ The corner of my mouth twitched.
‘No… not like…’ She blew out a breath. I wasn’t sure if it was from the exhaustion of climbing the stairs or the frustration that she’d been caught out. ‘They’re hard to miss. I’m sure they could see those muscles back in London! Do youlivein the gym?’
‘Non!’ I laughed. ‘But when I commit to something, I give it my all. And I like eating. The more I work out, the less guilty I feel about my pastries obsession.’
‘I hear you. I also suffer fromcakeitus, which in case you’re wondering is the very serious medical condition where whenever I’m within a few feet of cake I absolutelyhaveto eat it.’
‘I think that I also suffer from this,’ I laughed. ‘Do you still love eating the Jamaican rum cake?’ I asked.
Laila froze on the step and stared at me, her eyes the size of saucers.
‘You remember that?’ she gasped.
‘Of course.’ I shrugged. ‘I remembermanythings about you.’
‘Yeah?’ Laila went to take the next step then paused again. ‘Like what?’
A couple got up from one of the green benches on the grass beside the steps and I gestured to Laila for us to sit.
As we sat at opposite ends of the bench, I wondered how I could even begin to answer her question.
There were so many things that I remembered about Laila.
Every detail about her had been seared into my brain.
There was the sweet sound of her laugh.
The way her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled.
And how every atom in my body sprang to life when she did.
But instead I decided that it was better than I did not mention that.
‘Do you still like your coffee with a dash of milk and half a teaspoon of sugar? Not three quarters or a third, exactly a half?’
‘How did you…?’ Her jaw dropped. ‘It’s kind of scary how you remember that.’
‘Scary?’ I frowned. ‘For me it is normal to pay attention to important details.’
‘How I take my coffee is hardly important enough for you to remember.’
‘But of course it is.’ My frown deepened. ‘It matters to you, so it should matter to the people that care about you too.’
Her eyes widened.
‘And I remember how you always used to braid your hair after you had washed it,’ I continued. ‘You used to say that washing your hair would take you hours.’
‘Yes!’ Her eyes popped.
