‘We might be able to squeeze in a trip to the laundrette before your train,’ Ash muses. ‘I built in extra time and I still need to do my clothes too.’
‘Our first date at last,’ I say with a grin.
‘I feel like the last two and a half days have been our first date,’ he replies with amusement.
‘If Lisbon was our first date, I can’t wait for our second.’ I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘So … Madrid?’
He gives me his sweetest smile, the one that makes my heart sing.
‘Shall we come up with a plan?’ he asks.
I nod and he reaches for his rucksack, dragging it over. He gets out a map and flips onto his stomach, spreading it out. We both lean in close to study the city centre.
‘How about Plaza de España—’ he says at the exact same moment that I suggest ‘Plaza Mayor?’
We smile at each other and take a closer look at the two options.
‘This one has a monument,’ Ash points out.
‘This one has a statue. I wonder if one of them has a café so we’d have somewhere to wait if we’re early.’
‘Or late,’ he says. ‘Let’s go with your suggestion, it’s a bit smaller. Less chance of our not being able to spot each other.’
We agree to meet at three o’clock in exactly one week’s time.
‘I’ll give you my number too, just in case anything goes wrong.’ Before I can overthink it, I pullA Court of Thorns and Rosesand a pen out of my bag.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Ash asks uncertainly as I write my mobile number on the inside cover. ‘I know it belonged to Stella.’
I meet his eyes. ‘I trust you.’
‘I’ll guard it with my life,’ he replies seriously.
‘Okay.’ I smile at him and hand it over. ‘It has the contact for my parents’ PA in there too, so if for any reason I can’t get the same number for my mobile, at least we have a backup plan. Her name is Alison.’
He studies the front cover for a moment, then says, I think I’ll get a phone when I’m in Porto. That way I can text you and we can stay in touch this week.’
‘You’re coming back on-grid?’ I ask with amazement.
He laughs at the look on my face and it makes me laugh too.
‘I’m going to really miss your sniggle,’ he says fondly. ‘It’s ridiculously cute.’
I feel as though I’m evaporating with the way he’s looking at me right now.
The sun has not yet risen behind the cliffs, but the sky is a wash of neon apricot.
‘You’re so fucking pretty,’ he murmurs. ‘Your hair is the same colour as the sky right now, it’s insane. I seriously regret not having a camera.’
‘How don’t you have a girlfriend?’
He laughs and kisses me again, this time with more intent, and before I know it, I’m beneath him, feeling completely lit up.
Sex is so much more intense in the daylight. We don’t break eye contact, not once, not even when we’re in the process of falling and I’m clutching on to him, feeling his muscles tighten beneath my fingers.
When it’s over, I try to commit every second to memory, knowing I’ll relive them in the days to come.
Later, we stand on the platform at Lisbon station, in each other’s arms. Everything has gone to plan – we’ve been to the laundrette and we even managed a final lunch at theTime Out Market before arriving in good time for our trains. He’s catching one to Porto in half an hour.
