keep saying no. That’s why he keeps asking—he hates being turned down. And I don’t really know what to do about it.”
He took a second to reply. “Is he bothering you?”
“No. Not at all. It’s just a little frustrating that I can’t stop people talking about it. I like him, but as a friend. Not even a friend, really, because you can’t be friends with someone who keeps trying to stick their tongue down your throat.”
“I can imagine that gets awkward.” Will’s tone was Sahara-dry.
“Awkward is not the word.” Just as it was more than a little awkward to be talking about it with the one person I would have liked to be kissing. I didn’t dare look at him. “Anyway. He’s been kind to me and he’s tried to persuade everyone to get to know me before they make up their minds about me. So I’m grateful to him and I can cope with the flirting. And what you saw last night was just friendly. He was helping me out.”
“You must think I’m blind,” Will said, quite calmly. “I saw him kiss you.”
“When he was saying good-bye? It was a joke, really. As I said—friendly.”
His mouth twisted just a little before he lifted his mug and hid it from my view. I remembered that he was Dan Henderson’s son, and although they had little in common apart from their looks, they both had a temper. Dan’s just ran nearer to the surface than Will’s. But underground fires could smolder for years before they burned themselves out.
“It’s really not a big deal.” I meant because it had just been a typical bit of opportunism from Ryan, but Will misunderstood.
“Not if it happens all the time.”
“No, that’s not what I said.”
“It’s fine. To borrow your word. None of my business.” He grinned at me and I blinked, confused. I hadn’t imagined that he was angry about Ryan pawing me, had I? Because I wanted him to be? This version of Will was so far from angry that he was yawning, and stretching. “Sorry. I could sleep for the whole of half-term. The last few weeks have been busy. Lots of late nights.”
And I was back to imagining the pretty girls who kept him up late.
“Well, you should get some rest tonight. There’s nothing much going on.”
“Except Harry’s party.”
“Harry?”
“Knowles. He’s planning to have a party every night this week.”
“I know. Ryan told me. But I didn’t think you’d know.”
“I have my ear to the ground. I know everything that’s going on around here, I think.”
Will drained his mug and came round to the sink to rinse it. I scooted sideways to get out of his way, fighting down the urge to touch him as he stood facing away from me. I wanted to run my hand across his broad shoulders and down his back. I wanted him to turn round and press his body against mine. I wanted to remind myself what it was like to kiss him, even though I thought I remembered it pretty well.
“And are you going?”
“To the party?” Will shook his head. “But I do want to go out. The house is too quiet. That’s why I came over.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say I wasn’t dressed for going out, but I had only got as far as opening my mouth to reply when he continued, “I wanted to see if Hugo felt like coming along.”
He had come to see Hugo, not me. He had stayed in the kitchen and talked to me out of politeness, because I’d assumed he was there for me and he was too kind to tell me the truth. I felt like sinking to the floor under the weight of humiliation. Through a smile that felt stiff on my face, I said, “Well, you can ask Hugo, but I don’t know if he’ll be interested. He’s in the sitting room, probably chatting up my best friend.”
“Which one?”
“Ella.”
“I remember,” he said, in a way that made me feel he really did. “If he’s that keen, she can come along too.”
And he still didn’t ask if I wanted to join them, I noticed.
“Thanks for the tea,” he said, and headed for the door.
I went after him, but I
He took a second to reply. “Is he bothering you?”
“No. Not at all. It’s just a little frustrating that I can’t stop people talking about it. I like him, but as a friend. Not even a friend, really, because you can’t be friends with someone who keeps trying to stick their tongue down your throat.”
“I can imagine that gets awkward.” Will’s tone was Sahara-dry.
“Awkward is not the word.” Just as it was more than a little awkward to be talking about it with the one person I would have liked to be kissing. I didn’t dare look at him. “Anyway. He’s been kind to me and he’s tried to persuade everyone to get to know me before they make up their minds about me. So I’m grateful to him and I can cope with the flirting. And what you saw last night was just friendly. He was helping me out.”
“You must think I’m blind,” Will said, quite calmly. “I saw him kiss you.”
“When he was saying good-bye? It was a joke, really. As I said—friendly.”
His mouth twisted just a little before he lifted his mug and hid it from my view. I remembered that he was Dan Henderson’s son, and although they had little in common apart from their looks, they both had a temper. Dan’s just ran nearer to the surface than Will’s. But underground fires could smolder for years before they burned themselves out.
“It’s really not a big deal.” I meant because it had just been a typical bit of opportunism from Ryan, but Will misunderstood.
“Not if it happens all the time.”
“No, that’s not what I said.”
“It’s fine. To borrow your word. None of my business.” He grinned at me and I blinked, confused. I hadn’t imagined that he was angry about Ryan pawing me, had I? Because I wanted him to be? This version of Will was so far from angry that he was yawning, and stretching. “Sorry. I could sleep for the whole of half-term. The last few weeks have been busy. Lots of late nights.”
And I was back to imagining the pretty girls who kept him up late.
“Well, you should get some rest tonight. There’s nothing much going on.”
“Except Harry’s party.”
“Harry?”
“Knowles. He’s planning to have a party every night this week.”
“I know. Ryan told me. But I didn’t think you’d know.”
“I have my ear to the ground. I know everything that’s going on around here, I think.”
Will drained his mug and came round to the sink to rinse it. I scooted sideways to get out of his way, fighting down the urge to touch him as he stood facing away from me. I wanted to run my hand across his broad shoulders and down his back. I wanted him to turn round and press his body against mine. I wanted to remind myself what it was like to kiss him, even though I thought I remembered it pretty well.
“And are you going?”
“To the party?” Will shook his head. “But I do want to go out. The house is too quiet. That’s why I came over.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say I wasn’t dressed for going out, but I had only got as far as opening my mouth to reply when he continued, “I wanted to see if Hugo felt like coming along.”
He had come to see Hugo, not me. He had stayed in the kitchen and talked to me out of politeness, because I’d assumed he was there for me and he was too kind to tell me the truth. I felt like sinking to the floor under the weight of humiliation. Through a smile that felt stiff on my face, I said, “Well, you can ask Hugo, but I don’t know if he’ll be interested. He’s in the sitting room, probably chatting up my best friend.”
“Which one?”
“Ella.”
“I remember,” he said, in a way that made me feel he really did. “If he’s that keen, she can come along too.”
And he still didn’t ask if I wanted to join them, I noticed.
“Thanks for the tea,” he said, and headed for the door.
I went after him, but I
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