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‘It’s your house,’ she said meekly. ‘You’re welcome to …’ She waved an arm, trying to convey that he could wander around half naked on his own landing, if he wanted. The words had somehow escaped her.

‘I was miles away,’ he muttered back. ‘A hot shower can transport you. Erm. Yeah. I’d better make up the other bed.’

She could see he was shivering, and not at all full of the semi-bare swagger she’d seen on the allotment task. He’d suggested that had just been nerves. Was he nervous now? Seeing him step out of the shower room had certainly given her butterflies.

He opened the only other door on the upper floor, and she heard him sigh. Craning to see, she spotted a pink-painted room with a single bed piled high with clean washing, boxes of board games, and other random items that looked like they needed putting away.

‘So that’s where you keep your mess.’ She chuckled. ‘I was beginning to think you were superhuman.’

‘Everyone has their secret junk piles,’ he answered, still shivering, his torso not properly dry. ‘And pre-teens make a lot of mayhem.’

As much as she was enjoying his rear view, she couldn’t leave him standing there.

‘This is no time to be sorting out your ironing. Come and sleep in with me.’ She could feel her own heart racing at the thought of it, even though it was surely just sensible logistics.

‘No, it’s fine. Honestly. I’ll pull out the duvet and sleep on the couch downstairs. I can’t invite you here and then pull an only one bed situation – especially after the incident when we only had one sleeping bag. I’m not that guy.’

He’d turned to look at her, his eyes honest. She knew he wasn’t that guy. He was a good one. Though parts of her longed to encourage a bad streak.

‘And for the avoidance of doubt, you’re one hundred per cent off duty now. My love app business is not paying you to be in my bedroom.’

She had to smile at that.

Alyssa patted the bed next to her. ‘I insist. It’s your house, and we’ve slept together before. I mean, not actually slept together. But, you know.’ She was waffling again too.

And he was still shaking. She jumped up and pulled him by his hands into the warm room, shutting the door behind him. She took a spare towel from the radiator and placed it around his shoulders, rubbing some heat into his upper arms.

‘There. At least we don’t have an only one towel situation.’ She nodded to the one wrapped around his waist. ‘If you remove that, my poor eyeballs won’t know where to look.’

He smiled, gazing down at her, their faces getting closer with that inexplicable pull. ‘Then I’ll be sure not to remove it.’

There was a cheeky tease in his voice, and she couldn’t resist returning it.

‘That seems a shame,’ she replied, hooking her fingers over the waist of his towel and pulling him in closer.

She heard his sharp intake of breath as the tips of her fingers touched his lower stomach, dancing dangerously close to what lay beneath. His sudden powerlessness to her touch gave her a thrill. She hadn’t been planning this, as she’d been yawning and drying her hair, thinking absently about his muscly pecs. But now …

‘Oh God, Alyssa. I’d honestly better sleep downstairs if you don’t want this to go any further. I don’t think I can be here with you, like this, and not want to …’

She put a finger to his lips. Because if he said throw you on the bed and do hot things to you, she might just explode.

He moved her finger away, his face coming down to hers. Their lips found each other, touching gently at first, as though neither of them could quite believe this was happening again. And this time, they wouldn’t be interrupted by a hoofed hog called Nicole Pigman.

She felt his lips twitching into the biggest smile, before something like lust must have taken over him too. Then their mouths moved together, his groaning with a deep at last pleasure, hers falling into a trance that felt oh so familiar. She knew this kiss, she remembered every part of it. Maybe not this exact one, but the memory of how it felt to kiss him properly was flooding back. She’d dreamed about it more times than she cared to admit, but the reality of it felt so instinctive, she didn’t even need to think.

It wasn’t long before they fell into Devan’s fresh, white bed, kissing deeply, arms wrapped around each other, like they had forever to remember the way. As much as she’d imagined him naked in the shower, now their bodies were entwined, soft towelling still between them, there seemed no rush for anything. It was as though they didn’t need anything more, in that moment, but to hold each other and let their hearts and bodies reacquaint.