By the time she’s in bed, and I go to tidy up the bathroom, I realise I haven’t messaged Olly. “Shit.”
I run to the kitchen, grab my phone, send him a text. It’s already quarter past seven.
Bubbles appear straight away, and I have a moment of relief—maybe he was running late and hasn’t left yet.I’m outside.
My palms are sweaty as I try to type back a response when the phone flashes with his name. Taking a deep breath, I answer. “Hi, I am so sorry—“
“Don’t be silly, do you still want to have our date? I could come up, and we could order takeaway?”
I scan around my flat; it’s not too messy. “Hmmm.”
“You don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable. We can do it another time.”
“No, you’re here. Come on up, I’ll buzz you in.”
We hang up, and I sniff at my armpit. “Eww.”
I open the door, waiting after buzzing him in. When he rounds the corner, my breath catches at the sight of him in dark jeans, tight against his thighs, and a white shirt with the cuffs rolled up.
“Hi,” he says, smiling when he sees me.
“Hi, I am so sorry. Marcus let Molly down again.” He pulls his arm out from behind his back and holds out a small bunch of carnations and a bottle of Moscato. “Thank you,” I reply, sheepishly and realise I still haven’t invited him in. I move to the side and push myself up against the wall when he enters, hoping he can’t smell how ripe I am.
“Would you mind if I quickly jumped in the shower? I’m still in my work clothes and would rather not petrify you on our first date.”
“Not possible—I’ve seen you sweaty already,” he says with a wink. I close the door, trying to suppress my grin from his comment. “Go on, have a shower. I’ll order dinner. Is Chinese okay?”
“Perfect.”
He takes the flowers and wine from me, then turns to the kitchen, completely at ease while I stare as his arse. I shake my head and quickly duck into the box room to grab what I would have worn tonight before rushing into the bathroom.
I’m used to having quick showers, so I am in and out within ten minutes, pulling on jeggings and one of my favourite off-the-shoulder tops. I pull my hair up into a messy bun and let a few strands fall around my face but forgo make-up. I swipe some powdered blush over my cheeks, slick on some tinted lip balm, and then finish off with a quick spray of deodorant.
Already beginning to feel sweaty again, I have to take a few deep breaths before I walk out.
I find Olly in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, waiting, his arms crossed but relaxed.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be. Wine?”
I nod and watch as he unscrews the bottle to pour us each a glass. I also notice he has put the flowers in the only vase I have.
“Thank you for the flowers and the wine,” I say, taking the glass from him.
He clinks our glasses before taking a small sip. “They said about thirty minutes.”
Glancing around, at a loss of what to do with myself. “Do you want to go sit down?”
I turn to the living room and take a seat on the sofa where he joins me at the other end. It’s only a two-seater, so we are practically touching.
I can’t even offer to put on the TV. Embarrassment begins to creep in, and suddenly this doesn’t seem like the best idea. I’m not ashamed of where I live, or how much I do or don’t have. Molly is and always will be my main priority.
“I have a question.”
I smile. “Then ask, but please don’t ever start a question by saying you have a question.”
He grins and sucks in his bottom lip between his teeth, and I struggle to ignore the buzz it sends to my lower stomach as I remember the feel of his lips on mine. “Fair enough. Okay, so the self-defence class…could you keep coming to them? Or would you rather Henry take over?”
