My heart skips a little faster. It’s dangerous.
‘That isn’t helpful!’ I scream at him before running back into the bathroom.
Outfit number three is a little bolder – a black miniskirt, the corset top from before, my black leather blazer and a pair of gorgeous dangly oval earrings I stole from Sara. I rush out of the room, telling him to hold all his opinions until I’ve finished donning my black thigh-high boots.
‘That’s the one,’ he says as soon as I’m done.
‘Are you saying it because you mean it or because you’re sick of me playing dress-up?’ I ask.
‘No, you look hot. If she wasn’t into you before, she for sure will be now.’
It’s the second look-based compliment in under five minutes and while I know that’s the point of the try-on, it feels different coming from him.
‘This isn’t weird for you, right?’ I ask hesitantly.
His features freeze briefly, before slipping into something more quizzical.
‘Why would this be weird?’ he asks slowly.
‘Because . . .’ I trail off, growing shy.
This shouldn’t be that awkward. This can’t be awkward. We’re in this together now. But still, I feel the heat rising to my cheeks, rendering me unable to look him in the eye.
‘Because we kissed?’ he asks.
I can hear the smile in his voice, undoubtedly feeding off my awkwardness. I nod softly, trying to keep my face blank as I look away. It’s no use – I absolutely reek of nerves.
He chuckles lightly.
‘Did you find our kiss weird?’
I risk a glance upwards to find him leaning back against the wall, smirking. It stills my breath instantly and I mutter a reply. ‘Of course not.’
‘Then why are you being so strange?’
He moves from the wall over towards me, leaning close, his lip curled. ‘Want to kiss again so you can confirm?’
My breath leaves my body, eyes widening. Just the thought of his lips on mine again has sent my temperature through the roof. This cannot be normal. Why on earth would he even...
‘I’m joking,’ he says, breaking into a laugh. ‘But the look on your face is only a little offensive.’
‘Terriblejoke aside, maybe we should add to the ground rules.’ I say, trying to regain composure. I avoid his eyes completely as I saunter over to the bed, reaching straight for my laptop and opening up the document with haste.
8. No referencing that one time we kissed.
‘Works for me.’ He nods, reading over my shoulder.
‘And maybe we can find you someone at the party too!’ I say.
‘Well, yeah, I’d assumed so. That’s why you invited me, right?’
I feel my breath hitch at the thought of him going tonight just to find a new girl. It makes sense, of course; it’s what he’s set out to do and I literally promised to help him do it. He should absolutely assume that’s why I invited him... it’s why I should have invited him. It should have nothing to do with my inexplicable want to have him around.
I give him a brisk nod before rummaging in my suitcase for the one semi-smart handbag I brought with me – the same small black leather shoulder bag I’ve owned since I was eighteen.
When Paige bought it for me as my ‘first baby designer purchase’, I barely registered how significant it was and treated it no differently to any of my twenty-pound high-street handbags. I’m reminded of that as I take in the tarnished gold and worn leather, and vague stickiness from the tales of nights out past. I unclasp it and move my hand around the inside, attempting to puff it back into its formerly structured shape. Then, once I’ve accepted it’s the best it will get, I chuck in my phone, purse, mirror, keys and chewing gum, and we head out.
The tram ends up taking longer than we anticipated due to some aggressive bystander holding it up, so by the time we get to her door we are far more than fashionably late. I frantically check the time on the walk up, worried we’ll have missed the peak of the party, but we hear the music before we’ve even turned the corner and I know we’ll be just fine.
