‘Are you filming this or not?’
Fumbling for my phone, I lifted the device and set up a shot where I couldn’t see myself in the mirror. He threw me a half-hearted devilish look, but there was so much wariness in him, I could barely believe he was the same man who’d teased me constantly for over a week.
The dragon on his back rippled as he lifted his hand to his foamy cheek, as though the creature could move independently. I wished he’d say something silly, but if my banter was gone, it appeared so was his. I caught the sound of my own breath, laboured and unsteady, and tried to calm down so it didn’t come out in the video.
But on the surface, there was nothing special about the footage. Seeing him shave in a video would not feel as intimate as standing here while he did it. I wouldn’t accidentally zoom in on his lips the way my gaze kept drifting there as he made careful strokes with the razor around his mouth. If viewers were dying to know how smooth his cheeks were now, that was their fault and not because I was imbuing the video with my own suddenly clamorous desire.
In the space of five minutes, he transitioned from a strawberry-blond Henry Cavill from theMission: Impossibleera back into Colin Gallagher, as I remembered him from years of training camps. Except he wasn’t quite the same. Or perhaps he was and I was seeing him differently, which was a disturbing thought.
‘What?’ he asked, sending me an uneasy look in the mirror.
As he rinsed off his razor and splashed water on his face, the uncomfortably tight feeling in my lungs returned. He had a lively face, full of nuance. His eyes were soft under half-closed lids. Yeah, I might have admitted he was cute if someone had asked, but this scrunching up every time I looked at him was new and not welcome.
‘Did I nick myself somewhere I can’t see?’ he asked, inspecting his chin thoroughly in the mirror.
Giving myself a shake, I turned off the video. ‘It’s weird to see… you again.’
‘I knew I should have kept the moustache.’
I shook my head, aiming for a dry look and probably failing. ‘No, I just… We’ve known each other a long time.’
His brow lifted. ‘We have,’ he agreed carefully.
‘Remember when you put glue on my hair ties?’
His pained grimace almost made up for what he’d done. ‘I didn’t know that stuff wouldn’t wash out.’ He lifted a hand and, for a moment, I wondered if he was going to rub a strand of my hair between his fingers. I didn’t like the dip of disappointment in my stomach when he dropped his hand instead. ‘It was a shame you had to cut your hair.’
‘It grew back.’
‘I didn’t—’ He swallowed and rubbed his hand through his hair. ‘I didn’t upset you, did I? With that kiss? I don’t want to make trouble for you – at least not like that.’
My skin prickled at my own confused reaction to his apology. ‘No, I mean— It was my fault, right? But we probably… shouldn’t…’
‘That’s loud and clear,’ he replied with a lopsided smile. It was a puzzling smile, dark and yet full of relief. I hadn’t imagined the eagerness of his mouth on mine, but he certainly seemed less than keen to take things further.
I’d accused him of not being serious in September, when he’d obliquely opened the topic of… this,us. But now, Iwasn’tsure.
I couldn’t go back to being the Leesa who didn’t know what it was like to kiss him.
‘You know, maybe the bike ride together is a bad idea,’ I blurted out, the prospect of hours alone with him firing me up.
He drew back and studied me. He was half a foot taller and used every inch of that to look down his nose at me. ‘I might have a soft spot when it comes to you, but one kiss isn’t getting you out of that bike ride.’
I was wobbly on my legs again. What did he mean, he had a soft spot?
He pointed a finger at me. ‘You are getting back on a bike tomorrow, even if you parade past me naked, which you are welcome to do anyway.’
‘I didn’t kiss you to avoid getting back on a bike,’ I insisted.
‘I know. You were testing a theory about me and got more than you bargained for.’
My gaze snapped to his, but his eyes were thankfully glinting with humour and not deep with that wariness I didn’t know how to process. I lifted my chin. ‘Well, you can only dream about seeing me naked.’
‘Oh, I’m pretty sure I will,’ he said with a breathy laugh. ‘Tiny tits and all.’
‘Colin!’ As I spluttered an inarticulate response, he slipped past me, squeezing my elbow and dropping a quick kiss on my cheek.
He tugged his T-shirt back over his head and I pulled myself together enough to realise I should take the cue to leave. I felt his gaze on my back as I headed for the door.
