His smile melts softly, mine curving to match. We stay there for a moment, held in a silent, tender bubble. It sends a shot into my heart that ripples out and slowly fills each crevice of me with a warm fuzz.
‘Travel with me.’
It leaves my mouth before I realise I’ve said it, my eyes sparking with concern in time with his own.
‘What?’ he asks, dropping my arm.
He’s shocked, and rightfully so. Where did that come from? I take a deep breath and let my words take over from my brain.
‘Think about it,’ I say. ‘We’ve pretty much ruled out any possibility ofushappening, but that doesn’t mean we need to say goodbye.’ My brain starts whirring with ideas as I sit up straighter. ‘I need to date. I don’t know how. Butyousaid you do! And you want a relationship – I was in one for five years! Not only could we help each other, but we could also circumvent all the sucky parts of solo travel. It’s genius!’
I look towards him. He’s speechless, so I continue.
‘Where are you going next?’
‘Rotterdam,’ he says, stunned.
‘Perfect. I’ll go too,’ I say, slapping my thighs.
‘Amorie.’ His voice is hesitant.
‘I’m serious!’ I say. ‘It’s the perfect solution. We’ll be on our own journeys together – solo travel without the stress.’
I look frantic, I know, but I can’t help myself. A new fire has been lit under me. Staying with Noah may have its own set of worries, but all of them beat constantly fearing for my life. He’s been so good to me so far, and, yes, we had that little blip last night, but I can forgo my urges in exchange for added security.Who cares if he’s cute and has nice eyes, and looks particularly sexy as he chews the inside of his cheek while he mulls my offer over? I evolved and I have willpower, and I will be dating many cute people over the next few months.
He looks back at me with concern. ‘But youjustgot to Brussels and I leave in three days. That’s not fair to you.’
‘That’s plenty of time to explore the city,’ I say, lying, the excitement of this coursing through my body on high. ‘Come on, Noah – it’s perfect! You’ll teach me how to casually date and I’ll teach you what it takes to stick in a long-term relationship.’
I hold his gaze, willing him closer and trying to silently convince him that this is, in fact, a fantastic idea.
‘It’s crazy,’ he says.
I feel my body deflate. Of course he doesn’t want to go round Europe with a girl he met a day ago. That’s a perfectly sane response – truly, incredibly rational, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.
‘You’re right, sorry, forget it.’ I keep my eyes down, reach for my laptop and start to retreat back to my room to browse cheap hostels. But he stops me as I stride past him, his hand reaching to grab my arm. I feel my heart skip at the contact and turn back to face him.
‘Hey, I said it was crazy,’ he says. ‘But I didn’t sayno.’
His lip is curled, eyes alight as he looks up at me and sets my hopes aflame yet again.
I went to Rotterdam and all I got was . . .
. . .a rule book
Am I okay? Am I actually okay? One night in the guy’s flat and I hitched myself to him for God knows how long. I just couldn’t help it – I’d rushed into this whole trip so quickly, that I never really processed thesolonature of it all. The thought of being alone for six months drove me to the brink of madness. And for some reason, he went along with it too. That part, actually, is the most dubious of all.
Even after he agreed, I wasn’t convinced we’d go through with it. We spent our last couple of days in Brussels passing each other like ships in the night. I thought he’d have completely forgotten by the time we had to pack. But there he was this morning, bright and incredibly peppy, offering to pull my case to the station.
Now here I am, shoulder to shoulder on a train to Rotterdam, with a man I met three days ago. A man with incredibly questionable taste in crisps, no less. Who picksbacon rashersof all things?
‘Can you believe these were thirty-nine cents?’
He waves them excitedly under my nose once first, then again with more emphasis. So much emphasis, in fact, that the smell makes my stomach lurch in time with the train.
‘I’m a vegetarian,’ I say.
‘I’m pretty sure they’re not real meat.’
