“Like a hippie from the seventies on a peace protest march?”
The tie-dye top I found him is blue, yellow and pink, practically glowing with joyous fun. It’s probably a few sizes too short, riding up at his belly button, tight around his shoulders. “You look like you’re about to shackle yourself to a tree.”
He shakes his head, looking across the bed. “I can’t believe you even found me some lost boxers.”
“Marie promised me it was all clean.”
“Wow, and what are these?” he asks, holding up a pair of beige chino shorts that happen to have approximately fifty pockets.
“I believe these are what are called dad pants.”
“Dad pants?” he chuckles.
“The pockets are for snacks, bottles of milk, first aid kits, dummies… It’s the modern-day alternative to bum bags.”
He smirks at me before shaking his head with a sigh. “Turn around then.”
I do as I’m told, twisting away to look at the wall whilst James pulls the second-hand boxers and shorts on, when my eyes catch on the mirror on top of the dresser. There he’s stood, naked from the waist down, in all his glory. My jaw drops open. He hasn’t noticed me gawping. I quickly look away, pinching my leg.
“All done,” he says.
I take a second to compose my face before turning back with a guilty smile.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I squeak. “It’ll do, right?”
“Yeah sure. Hey, fancy some more chips?”
“We have no money left,” I remind James with a confused frown.
He waves his phone in front of me. “I have contactless set up on my phone.”
I can’t fight the smile on my face. “Then, yes. Let’s get wine and all.”
Chapter Twenty
We return to the room with a carrier bag full of delights. Amongst the two cheap bottles of white wine, James grabbed Jaffa Cakes, cheesy Doritos and went rogue with some Space Raiders. I grabbed a pot of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, cookie dough flavoured, a pack of strawberries and a jumbo-sized bag of Skittles. On the walk back I realised I didn’t have a spoon to eat with, so James snuck into the fish ’n’ chips shop again to steal me a wooden one. Clambering back onto the bed, we settle under the covers as James switches on the ancient box TV across from us.
It hums to life, doing that thing where the screen fuzzes grey. James presses some more buttons until we get Channel 4 on, just in time to watch a dating show about country and city people taking turns to live each other’s lives. One of the contestants is talking about how she finds her partner on the show adorable. It’s all a bit soppy for my liking.
“They won’t last,” James says.
I just laugh, half-agreeing. “He is sort of adorable though.”
He gives me a look. “Like me?”
“Ha. You’re not adorable.”
“What!? This is news to me.”
“Your hair leans into adorable when it’s super floppy, but your attitude is mostly mean and arrogant. Sorry, I meanconfident.”
James snorts, completely unfazed by my comments. “You actually are quite cute though.”
“I’m not cute!”
“If you were a character inWinnie the Pooh, you’d be Piglet.”
