Then, in the way of children around the world, a switch flips, and she hands me her favourite book expectantly. Topic changed, I guess.
I smile at the memory as I put the finishing touches to my outfit. I’m wearing baggy jeans, a loose-fitting white T-shirt – my standard outfit these days – and Nash’s hoodie that I still haven’t even attempted to return to him. Judging by the possessive grin he gets every time he sees me wearing it, I don’t think he’s all that worried.
He’s taking me on a date tonight but swore it was super casual. So, if he lied to me, he’s just going to have to deal.
“Hot stuff, are ye nearly done in there? I’m busting for a pee,” Emma calls through the bathroom door. And there we have the one downsideof a single bathroom. I pull open the door and am met by a frantically bouncing, blue-haired Scot.
I rush out of the way as she squeezes past me, and she has her knickers round her knees before I’ve even pulled the door closed. As I’m walking away down the hall to the living room to collect my phone and wallet, I hear a painfully inaccurate and therefore very accurate Scottish/American impression of Mel Gibson in Braveheart.
“Freedoooom.” I snort a laugh and shake my head at her theatrics.
When she emerges a few minutes later and joins me in the living room, she plops herself back into her spot on the sofa and recommences threading beads onto a string for some activity she’s planning with Nancy.
“Feel better?” I ask, sarcastically.
“Aye, much thanks. It wouldnae have been so bad if you weren’t such a tart when you’re getting ready.”
“What a delight you are,” I tease, and she grins maniacally at me.
“I know, right?”
“What’re you doing with these again?”I ask, indicating the strings of large beads in different colours.
“We’re making abacuses. Abaci? Abacuseses?”
I incline my head in understanding. “Cool. OK, well, have a good night. I’m off. I won’t be back tonight.”
“Standard,” she calls at my retreating back.
I no longer feel guilty about spending an awful lot of nights at Nash’s. Not since she told me she’s grateful that I pay half her rent for her.
Just as I reach it, there’s a tap on the door, and Nancy steps in without waiting for me to open it.
“Girls’ night,” she calls, and Emma hops up, sweeping Nancy into her arms for a hug.
“Yay, and my bestie’s here. Are you ready for a fun night?”
“Yessss,” Nancy hisses excitedly. Nash, who followed his daughter inside, hands Emma her small backpack.
“She’s been very excited about sleeping in a living room fort,” he says with a dubious expression on his face.
“And that face” – Emma indicates to his grimace – “is why we’re doin’ it here, and no’ at yours. Have fun, you two,” she calls, disappearing into the living room, both she and Nancy talking a mile a minute.
When we get to the bottom of the stairs and step outside, I take Nash in. He’s wearing casual jeans, a band T-shirt for some nineties grunge band, and… are those DCs?
“Who is this person, and where is the love of my life?” I ask, skeptically.
“This is the real me, baby. Deal with it.” I laugh because I have never seen Nash so dressed down before. It’s hilariously out of character, but also weirdly perfect for him. “I’m going to give you a lesson in good music as we drive, just for the attitude.” He presses a quick, hard kiss to my mouth, then strides back across the green and climbs into his Land Rover.
I follow, and he connects his phone to the dashboard. Our journey begins, and although he’s kept our first proper date destination a secret, I guess pretty quickly that we’re going to the beach. The relatively short drive is soundtracked by a random compilation consisting of System of a Down, AC/DC, Reel Big Fish, and, in a random change of pace, Andy C.
“I never pegged you as a fan of ska. That wasn’t on my bingo card for you.” I look at him quizzically. The look he gives me in return is feral.
“You’ve never pegged me, full stop.”
I freeze, eyes wide and unblinking. This man, I swear to God, has the ability to steal my breath in the most unexpected ways. He winks at me before sliding on a pair of tortoiseshell wayfarer sunglasses, making me practically come on the spot from how sexy he is.
When we get out of the car, he grabs his phone and quickly sends a text before pocketing it and taking my hand. He leads me along the footpath through the dunes, pointing to a spot further down the coast as our destination. As we walk, two men approach. As they get closer, I realise it’s Cole and Archer. They smile at me and slap Nash on the back as they pass, and that’s it. No words uttered.
