Page 67

Later that afternoon, we arrived at the community centre, which smelled as it always did of instant coffee and damp coats. I paused just inside the door, scanning the hall like I was entering a crime scene. Which, technically, I was. Because somewhere in here was a man I had seen naked approximately six hours ago.

‘Harri, Harri, Harri, you look like a bag of shite,’ said Mags, appearing out of nowhere with a clipboard and the energy of a woman who thrived on other people’s business.

‘Cheers, Mags. Lovely to see you too,’ I replied and rolled my eyes to my mum, who chuckled at her friend, then headed to the kitchen.

But Mags squinted at me. ‘You’ve got that look.’

I puffed out a breath. ‘What look?’

‘The look that says you’ve either been crying or riding. And you don’t look like you’ve been crying, Harri.’ She winked.

I choked and felt my face burst into flames. ‘Jesus Christ!’

Mags leaned in, delighted. ‘Well. Who is it?’

‘What? No one. I’m a married woman!’ I tutted, crossing my arms when I felt my hands starting to shake.

‘Aye, but he’s been playing away! My wee granddaughter told me!’

‘I swear to God, Mags—’

‘HAR-RI!’ someone shouted across the hall.

I froze. Jamie. Why was he so loud?

He jogged over, grinning like we hadn’t made several questionable decisions mere hours ago. Hair still a mess, hoodie on, looking so fucking handsome. Annoyingly so.

‘Happenin’,’ he said.

Mags smirked, like we had just answered all the questions she had and quite a few that she didn’t.

‘Can I talk to you for a bit?’ he asked, nudging his head towards the office door.

I hesitated. I couldn’t do this. But I didn’t want to say no and fill Mags’ head with even more salacious gossip.

‘Sure thing . . . pal,’ I muttered, giving him a sarcastic wee salute. Why did I just call him pal? For fuck sake, Harri.

I followed him into the office and shut the door, then let out a massive breath. Right. Adult conversation, Harri. Be normal.

‘I just want to say—’ I started, folding my arms like that would somehow give me authority in this situation, ‘if I’ve given you the wrong impression—’

He was already smirking. Oh, I hated that.

‘—but my life is a bit complicated right now, and I’m not looking to start anything serious, and I don’t want you getting the wrong idea, so—’

He snorted loudly.

I blinked. ‘Sorry, are you laughing?’

Jamie covered his mouth, shoulders shaking. ‘Sorry. Sorry – please, carry on.’

‘No, go on,’ I said, narrowing my eyes. ‘What’s so fucking funny?’

‘I just—’ He let out another laugh. ‘Harri, I’m not about to propose to you after one night on your mum’s couch.’

Oh, right. Cool. Fine. Yet something in my chest that might be called hope dropped unexpectedly.

‘I didn’t say you were,’ I eventually snapped back.