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I chuckle. “I know. I was there.”

She licks her fingers, her eyes gleaming. “You were pretty fantastic.”

I’m enough of a man to feel a glow at her compliment. “Well, thank you. And you got me so riled up, I saw stars when I came.”

She giggles, and I grin. She looks gorgeous sitting there, cross-legged, her hair in a bun with strands tumbling around her face, wearing only her tee and knickers. Her bare legs are tanned and smooth. She looks young and healthy and happy, despite the tears she shed when she came.

I can’t help it; I need to know, and I ask, “Did it make you sad?”

“Did what make me sad?”

I shrug. “Thinking about Jayden while we… you know.”

She stares at me. “What? No! I wasn’t thinking about him. Not like that, anyway. Jesus, Mitch, that’s not why I cried.”

“Oh.”

Her expression softens. “I cried because I thought that maybe you were trying to fit every position in because you thought it might be the only time we slept together.”

It’s my turn to stare at her, the fork halfway to my mouth, and say, “What?”

“I thought perhaps you’d booked your flight back to Wellington, and you were thinking that this was it.”

I take the rice from the fork, chew it, and swallow. “I changed position because I couldn’t decide which was my favourite. I had six years to make up for. I’d been planning it for a long time.” I give her a wry smile.

“So you haven’t booked your flight yet?” she asks hopefully.

I shake my head.

She has a forkful of noodles, and we eat quietly, glancing at each other.

There’s no point in keeping it a secret. So eventually I say, “I wanted to talk to you about your dad’s job offer.”

“Are you considering it?”

“Yeah. That’s what tonight is about. I wanted to talk to you about it. Well, that and have sex with you.”

She giggles, but her eyes are wide. “You’re really thinking about moving back here?”

I hold her gaze. “Of course I’m thinking about it.”

I can see it sinking in that maybe, just maybe, we could have a future together. Her jaw drops, and she blinks a few times.

Then her smile fades as the implications of it occur to her. “You have a good full-time position,” she says slowly.

“Yeah.”

“It would be a lot to give up.”

“Yeah. It’s not like I’d be getting anything out of it.”

She looks back up then, and we exchange slow smiles.

“Your dad also said one of the older teachers is talking about retirement,” I admit. “So there’s a chance a full-time position might come up, and I could always do cover in the meantime.”

“It’s still a risk, though.”

“Yes,” I admit.