‘Soon, all going well.’ Saying the words alleviates a tiny bit of my guilt, reminding me there is a time limit on this sneaking around.
‘Why the delay?’ Impatience flashes in his brown eyes. Though there is a resemblance in their colouring, thankfully, Amy Harrington doesn’t look anything like her brother. That would just be plain weird.
‘We want to be certain before we go public with it.’
‘Wow, she must be an A-lister, is she? Fair play to you, man.’ He pushes himself up from the bed and his eyes fall to the single spiral strand next to him at the same second his phone rings from his pocket. Rifling in his trouser pocket, his eyes remain fixed on the hair for what feels like an eternity. My breath tightens in my chest, I don’t dare release it. Eventually he pulls the phone out and glances at the screen.
‘It’s Emma.’ He drains the rest of his tea, places the mug on the coffee table and hits the accept button as he crosses the room.
‘Hi, babe.’ He raises a hand in goodbye from the bedroom door, covers the phone’s speaker and whispers, ‘see you in the morning,’ before banging the door behind him.
The relief whooshes out of my chest in the form of an almighty sigh as Amy crawls out from underneath the bed.
‘That was close.’ She’s wearing the dressing gown I gave her, her underwear hanging from the pocket like a trophy.
‘I hate lying to him.’ My hands run over my head, feeling the familiar bluntness of my grade one cut. ‘Maybe if we just—’
‘No. Trust me, Ollie, he won’t take it well. Give us the time to see if what we’ve got is worth fighting for.’ She stands before me, doe eyes pleading with me.
‘I already know it is.’ Pulling her into me I wrap my arms round the frame that fits so perfectly into mine, moulding us as one.
She takes a step back to gaze up at me, hazel eyes flickering with curiosity. ‘So, who is Anita?’
I pull her back towards the bed to lie on our sides where I can spoon her. As I wrap my arms around her waist she wiggles her back against my torso and pulls the duvet up around us.
‘She’s someone I used to know.’
We fall asleep wrapped in our own little bubble, hidden away from the rest of the world.
ChapterTwenty-One
AMY
‘You must be having a serious amount of sex when I haven’t seen you for weeks,’ Geri says across the hands-free of my car.
I’m on my way back from the triathlon club, but I can’t tell her that. ‘I went for run and a dip in the sea.’
‘You didn’t fancy asking me to join you?’ She sniggers. Geri hates running and last time she came in the sea with me was the time our clothes were stolen. Funnily enough I haven’t invited her since.
‘You hate running,’ I remind her.
‘I might have to take it up if it’s the only way I get to hear how your love life is going. You’ve been dodging my calls all week!’ A indignant snort ripples round my Golf. It’s not nearly as fancy as Ollie’s Tesla, but it’s got enough bite to help me overtake the eejit in front doing seventy kilometres an hour in a one-twenty zone.
‘I wasn’t dodging your calls! I’ve been working.’ I pull the visor down to shield the sun from my eyes while I scratch around the inside of the glove compartment for my sunglasses.
‘I’m about to combust with curiosity! Will you spill the damn beans, woman? How is it going with number six? Apart from anything, I’ve had four emails this week from Finding Forever looking for feedback.’
‘Sorry, truly it’s been a mad couple of months.’ Not just mad busy, but mad crazy too.
‘Amy Harrington, if you don’t give me details this second I’m going to ring your brother and tell him you lost your virginity to Stephen Carson in the summer house when you were supposed to be here having a sleepover with me!’
‘You wouldn’t dare!’ I grip the steering wheel, cringing at the prospect. ‘He’ll only blame you –you were supposed to be minding me!’ I stick my tongue out even though she can’t see me.
‘Wild horses couldn’t have stopped you that night. Now, stop changing the subject. How is it going with number six?’
‘You shouldn’t call him that. Someone might guess!’
‘Who? Alex? He barely even listens when I’m talking directly to him, never mind bothering to eavesdrop. I think it might actually be the secret to our happy marriage.’
