‘No,’ I agreed weakly. ‘Nothing like it.’
He reached for the fridge door.
‘Don’t,’ I said and he paused.
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t put them in the fridge.’
I found my feet and forced myself across the room to take the punnet out of his hand, placing the strawberries on the kitchen counter. ‘They taste better if you leave them out. They don’t like the cold.’
‘You learn something new every day.’
‘Lots of people learned something new tonight,’ I replied, prodding a plump, firm strawberry. ‘What’s the mood like out there?’
‘The party mostly dried up, no pun intended, but no one was going to top what happened so probably good timing,’ he admitted. ‘Your mum and dad went inside with Mal before I could talk to them, William and his husband were returning phones and calling taxis, and CJ was crying hysterically on the shoulder of a very tolerant Michael Cunningham.’
‘God, he’s one of my favourite authors,’ I whispered. ‘He deserves better.’
‘We’ll send him a fruit basket,’ Joe said. ‘Or a stack of cash, whatever it takes.’
It was so quiet, all I could hear was the kettle clicking off and the heavy rise and fall of my own breath. If I’d run a marathon, I might understand why my body burned and my legs were weak but all I’d done was walk down a garden. I was exhausted but restless, the worst kind of tired.
‘Your friend said you didn’t want to talk.’ Joe’s blue eyes blazed like sapphires in the low light, the only colour I could see. ‘Do you want me to leave?’
‘No.’
It was the only thing I was sure about.
His hand reached across the short space between us and brushed my wet hair back behind my ear, and his fingers curled around the back of my neck for a brief moment before he pulled them away. I missed his touch immediately.
‘I can’t stand the thought of you sitting in here on your own, beating yourself up,’ he said, his words tender. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong.’
Flexing my bruised right hand, I frowned. ‘Apart from when I punched my ex-boyfriend in the face?’
‘You’ve done nothing wrong,’ Joe said again, this time with a slight smile.
‘Let’s wait and see what Mum and Dad think before we commit to that.’ I leaned back against the fridge, their disappointed faces right in front of my eyes. ‘And my boss. And the parents whose children I teach. And the entire internet.’
‘Because the internet is well known for their rational and even-handed response in all situations?’ Joe pushed his own damp hair away from his face, newly defined waves curling around his ears.
‘This isn’t how I wanted everyone to find out,’ I said with an exasperated groan. ‘I was perfectly happy hiding.’
‘Were you?’ he asked. ‘Perfectly happy?’
‘I was happier than I am now,’ I replied. ‘It’s like I’ve walked into one of those giant searchlights and everyone is staring at me.’
‘It’s not a searchlight.’ He lowered his voice as his hand found its way back up to my face and neither of us pulled away this time. ‘It’s a spotlight. It’s shining on you so the whole world can see things the way I do. Every facet of you is sparkling right now. You’re so bright, you’re blinding.’
My pulse quickened with the same heat and longing I saw reflected in his face. He was so close.
‘If this is some kind of game, please tell me now,’ I said weakly. ‘I can’t get involved with someone who’s going to mess me about.’
‘And I can’t get involved with anyone full stop.’
His actions didn’t match his words. He moved closerstill, until our foreheads touched and his palms rested on either side of my face, fingertips grazing my hair, my ears, my neck and both thumbs caressing my cheekbones.
‘Then what are you doing?’ I whispered as one hand dropped down the back of my neck, his thumb trailing over my cheek and along my jaw until it found my mouth.
