We smiled at each other, and I shifted on my feet.Somethingalways hung between us at the end of evenings, when we didn’t want to part.We both wanted to linger longer.Like we wanted to wring a little more time out of the night, twisting every last drop from it like water from an old rag.
‘I should go,’ Ren said, gesturing to the front door.
‘Come on,’ I said, slipping my hand into his, ignoring the stupid sparks that shot up my arm as if I hadn’t trained myself out of reacting to them.A hangover from my pining days.
Right, and those are totally behind you.
‘The night’s still young.’
His hand still in mine, I led him through our hallway and up the stairs.I pushed open the door to my childhood bedroom – a little box room, with pink brushed-cotton sheets and oldHigh School Musicalposters, the ink ageing Zac Efron’s face.I climbed into my single bed, gesturing to Ren to join me.
Ren gave a rough laugh.‘I’m not sure we’re gonna fit any more, Lyds.’
Ren stood by my door, his eyes shifting between me and the bed, as if he was debating something.
‘Oh, come on.For old times’ sake.We can watch a film.Take your mind off tonight.’
He paused, unnaturally still.And for a moment, I wondered if I’d made the wrong call.We’d spent sleepovers in this room for as long as I could remember.First as kids, limbs akimbo and full of sugar, then later – as we morphed from kids to tweens to teenagers – things blurred.The lines had softened.And somewhere along the way, I’d stopped looking for them.The nights in this room had been the best memories of my life.Listening to his breath, steady and peaceful, after he lost his mum and shut everyone away.I knew that this room was a refuge for him.
But we were a couple of years away from 30 now, so it felt a bit ridiculous.
‘Of course.Silly.’ I laughed, my face flushing, throwing my feet to the floor.
Suddenly, I was met with a wall of man – solid, warm, and way too familiar – as Ren launched himself on to the bed, right over me, making me squeal-laugh.His scent hit me instantly, smoky and intense and like home.The touch was playful.Stupid.Harmless.But my stomach still flipped over.
Ren’s voice was in my ear.‘Just don’t hog it like you used to.’
‘I didn’t hog it!’
We shifted so we lay side by side.Our faces inches apart.
I smiled.‘And you snored.’
‘Yeah, well, you used to gob all over my T-shirt.’
‘Did not!’
‘Did so.’
Ren pulled out my old laptop, pleased when it roared to life, and played the DVD that was already in there –A Cinderella Story– and I sighed.
Hilary Duff.Chad Michael Murray.Heaven.
‘Love this one.’ He pulled the laptop closer, because I used to complain about how hot it would get on my legs.‘I’ll go after the film.’
I smiled at the familiar promise he never kept.After ten minutes, Ren closed the laptop, throwing us into darkness.
‘I just wanna say, before you start drooling on me…’ He glanced down at me, his dark eyes simmering with softness.‘Thank you for tonight.For being so brilliant.I – I knew things had got out of control, but I didn’t know what to do.I didn’t want your mum to think I didn’t appreciate the party—’
‘She’d throw a party for the opening of an envelope.No offence.’
Ren chuckled, low and rumbling, and I could feel it low in my belly.I shifted, trying to find space in the tiny bed, when Ren lifted his arm.
‘Come here,’ he murmured and my breath hitched.
I paused a moment before I lay my head on his biceps, his arms cocooning me.I thought he probably just wanted to make more room, but then he pulled me even closer.Ren’s lips came down on my temple, a ghost of a feather-light kiss – light and hesitant.My heart hammered so loud I was sure he could feel it thudding beneath his palm pressed against my ribs.
‘Today was a shit day,’ he murmured, his voice low and rough, so close I could feel his words touch my skin.‘But you always make everything better.’
