I blink, unsure how to respond. I’ve never prepared for this sort of argument. I’m not shy. Not fully clothed, anyway. However, I’m aware of my shorter-than-average legs and my slightly-wider-than-other-girls’ hips. I have relatively large breasts that I don’t know what to do with. And there’s a small, but noticeable, roll on my tummy. It’s not like I get time to do a ton of physical exercise outside of work.
James notices my hesitation and sighs. “Don’t be weird. You’ve got a great body.”
“Shut up, I don’t.” I sound too defensive. And wait, did he justcomplimentme?
Shaking his head, he slowly pulls his top off, pushing that into his bag too. There are a few moles dotted across his chest, abdomen and a noticeably large one on his hip. Maybe a birthmark. He has anamazingbody. There’s a light smattering of dark hair along his chest with a thin line that leads all the way down…
“Come on now, Felicity, you’re making me blush,” he says with a grin. “You going to just stand there and gawk or shall we crack on?”
How have I found myself in this nightmare again?
I sigh, turning my back on him as I slide out of my trainers and pull my trousers down. My skin is pasty white. I really need to get out in the sun more this summer. Factor fifty at hand, of course.
James rummages through his bag behind me. Probably trying hard to sound busy in order to put me at ease. Annoyingly, he is right about the clothes situation. I don’t have a spare pair. I secretly curse Michael. What an arsehole!Why didn’t he pack me a spare pair of clothes?Did he foresee this? I fold my trousers, packing them into my bag, cringing inwardly at the thought of being stood a matter of metres away from James in just my short black briefs, complete with mini side-ribbons.
Then I slowly lift my top too, pushing my hair out of the way. As I don’t have a hairbrush, I know, even without a mirror, that my hair has expanded by about three times its usual fluffiness at this point. It’s unmanageable. Best left alone. Hopefully a bird doesn’t move in before we find a shower and hair straighteners. I don’t see the point in using the dry shampoo without a brush. Surely it will just make matters worse. As I pop my top into my bag, a cool trail of wind whisks across my front. It’s cold without even getting into the water. Luckily, there’s an opening in the clouds and the sun sneaks through, warming the top of my head.
Unfortunately, I’m wearing a bra that I would deem on the smaller side, pushing my boobs up. It’s not usually that noticeable when I’ve got a dress without a low cut or V-neck. I wore it because it suits the dress I had on. But out in the open like this, they’re hard to avoid. And by the look on James’ face as he swallows and blinks across the river, a slow blush creeping into his cheeks, he’sdefinitelynoticed them.
Crap, crap, crap!
I slide into my trainers again, seeing as that’s what James has done, and hug myself as I wait for his next instructions. This is his idea after all. He looks at the bag and the small logs he’s managed to grab from the nearby trees behind us. It’s like he’s doing a mental puzzle.
“There’s no way you’re going to make a raft for the bags,” I say.
“Why do you doubt me so much?” he asks, mock offended.
He starts piling them into a rectangle shape, ripping the beige chinos he wore on his journey to Scotland and using the shreds to fasten the corners together. I wish he’d done this before I stripped down to my underwear. He keeps sneaking glances, and by the force of human nature, I can’t help doing the same to him.
Admittedly, I’ve always known he was a bit hot. Truthfully, I assumed he was out of my league. Not that I’d ever have gone there – dated a colleague. He’s not exactly boyfriend material anyway, what with all the rumours of his dating clients and stuff. I wonder if that’s just a fun rumour or if it’s true. Looking at the man before me, it’s almost laughable. He looks more boyish than manly, with his hair ruffling in the breeze as he kneels down to make his raft.
Finally, once he’s secured the bags and tied some more ripped-off strips together to form a loop to hold onto, he gives me a proud smile. Very boyish. Look how proud he is of his shitty raft. Let’s hope it’s up to the job.
“Right, you ready?” he asks.
“I guess so…”
James holds his arm out for me as if I’m going to hang onto him. I give him a funny look. “I don’t need your help.”
“You’re tiny and buoyant,” he says, giving me a once-over. “If you don’t hang onto me, you are going to float off down the river like a rubber dingy.”
“Hey!”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. It’s a compliment, honestly. And don’t shout at me for noticing. I’m a man, I can’t help it.”
I sigh. “I usually put them away.” But now I’m laughing too.
“I’m just saying.”
As if his joking around has somehow made me more relaxed, I link my arm through his. The step down into the water instantly floods my trainers and I gasp from the icy chill of the water. I can feel the current wading into me even at the shallow part.
Oh hell, what’s it going to be like further along?
The surface starts out crumbly, like a mixture of mud and pebbles. As we wade in further, there’s a lot of large rocks covered in algae on the riverbed. They’re slippery. I have to really think about where my next foot is going to land. James is focussed, trying to haul the bags over on his float. It appears to be heavier than he initially thought it would be. The current is pushing it downstream so forcefully he’s having to practically haul it along.
As the river reaches our waist height, I take a shuddery breath as the water races around my stomach. James rearranges us so that he’s protecting me from the majority of the current but he’s also trying to maintain a hold on the bags.
It’s all getting a little scary. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest. I’m panting. I can’t tell if it’s from panic, the effort or the cold.
