“Wait.” She studies me. “Did something else happen?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“It did, didn’t it? Oh my God, tell me everything.”
“There’s not much to tell. I mean, we might have kissed but. . .”
“Kissed?!” Jess’s shriek draws amused glances from the others in the café.
“Yeah.” I smile coyly. “Not much to tell, though. . .”
“Fine.” She flops back in the chair opposite me and shrugs. “I’m not interested, anyway. I mean, I go around snogging ridiculously hot people all the time, no biggie.”
“He isridiculouslyhot.” God, my cheek muscles hurt from grinning.
Jess squeals and pulls out her phone, tracing her finger across the screen to unlock it. “I need to see this for myself. What’s his surname, again?”
“There’s no point googling him. He’s a social media ghost.”
“He’s really not on anything? At all?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Weird. Does he even have a phone?”
“Of course he has a phone.” As I say it, I realize I’ve never seen Tommy use one. But then, we’re usually dressed up as Victorians, so maybe that’s why. “At least, I think he does.”
“Weeeeeeird. Who doesn’t have a phone? He gave you his landline number though, right?”
“Err. . .”
“Niamh! Have you even spoken to him outside of the museum?”
“Of course I have! I saw him at the Globe that night, remember?”
“Where you arranged to meet him?”
“No, but . . . oh, stop it. You’re kind of ruining this for me.”
She folds her arms and gives me a serious look. “I’m just looking out for you. The last thing you need right now is to fall for some hot but dodgy guy who probably has a girlfriend.”
My heart slides into my shoes. “You think he has a girlfriend?”
“Sorry,” she shrugs. “But why else does he avoid social media? And why hasn’t he given you his number? There are just a lot of red flags. Think of it this way – what would you say to your sister if she was telling you all this?”
“To be careful.” I admit. I sip at my Coke. I flick my bare nails on the tab of the can, a hollow, metallic sound filling the silence. “That he probably has a girlfriend.”
“Go to your workshop and forget about it. I’ll see you at the library after, right?” She studies my expression. “Ah, I’m sorry Niamh.”
“Oh, it’s fine.” I give her a watery smile, all of my excitement evaporated. “It’s hardly your fault, is it? It’s just. . .” I heave a sigh.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, go on.”
I sigh again. “He’s just so flaming pretty.”
