Some Girls Do

Chapter Thirty-three




Claire slept late the following day, and woke feeling refreshed. Luca still wasn’t up at noon when she sat outside with toast and coffee. She was pleased he was getting lots of sleep – he needed it. She was also glad of the quiet and solitude to mull things over in her head and sort out her feelings. She knew she should have been distraught or at least unnerved by Emma’s email but she wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t in love with Mark, and she also knew that sleeping with him wouldn’t change that. The utter indifference she felt at the idea that he might have got together with Sophie said it all. The feeling just wasn’t there, and she could no longer fool herself that it would come in time.

Luca, on the other hand, only had to talk to another girl to bring out the green-eyed monster. It was a real shame because Mark was the one who wanted to have a real relationship with her. But there was no point in denying it any more, at least not to herself – she loved Luca, and she’d rather be his f*ck buddy, if that was all that was on offer, than have something more meaningful with anyone else.

It was almost one when Luca finally emerged, yawning and blinking in the sunlight, but bright-eyed and looking rested.

‘Good morning,’ he said, sliding onto the bench beside her. ‘Or should I say afternoon?’

‘I take it you slept well?’ She suddenly felt shy and awkward, hoping he wouldn’t say anything about her attempt to seduce him last night.

‘Yeah, brilliant. You?’

‘Yes, great.’ She was relieved that he was his usual friendly, easy-going self.

‘I could get used to this,’ he said, turning his face to the sun and closing his eyes.

‘Me too. I wish—’ She caught herself. She had been about to say that she wished they could stay here like this for ever, just the two of them. But she couldn’t say things like that to Luca – it would scare him off.

‘What?’ He opened his eyes and turned to her.

‘Oh, nothing. I wish I didn’t have to go back to work tomorrow. There’s coffee in the pot …’


They spent the afternoon on the beach, swimming, reading and lazing in the sun. Since her mother had died, Claire had found that some days were better than others, and today she was engulfed by one of those waves of sadness that left her feeling submerged and remote from the world, rendering her catatonic. Everything – the sound of the waves, the roughness of the sand against her skin, even the smell of the air – evoked other times, and she was swamped by memories of her mother, remembering all the times she had come here as a child with her brothers and, later, when it was just Espie and her, the wonderfully indulgent weekends they’d had there together. The long days playing on the beach; the nights when their caravan had become Party Central, Espie inviting all their neighbours over for barbecues that went on long into the night. They were happy memories, yet they hit her like punches, leaving her weak and aching, longing to have her mother back, just for an hour – or even five minutes …

Luca seemed to pick up on her subdued mood, and she was grateful for his sympathetic, undemanding presence beside her while she let the heat of the sun and the gentle crash of the waves soothe her.

She felt her spirits lift towards evening, and she was almost happy later as they sat side by side at the picnic table, eating pasta and garlic bread, and drinking red wine warmed by the sun. If she wasn’t quite blissful, she was at least content.

‘Feeling better?’ Luca asked her.

‘Yeah, thanks. Sorry I wasn’t great company today.’

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘So – home tomorrow.’ She sighed as she poured more wine.

‘Yeah, and just when the book’s getting exciting,’ Luca said. ‘I mean, there was practically a car chase. I can’t believe Lydia ran off with Wickham!’

Claire was enjoying watching him discover Pride and Prejudice. It was so familiar to her that it was hard to imagine anything in it coming as a surprise.

‘And now she’s ruined. It’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, poor Lydia. But that’s the way it was in those days. Once a girl had sex, she was ruined for life.’ Like me, she thought wryly. Being with Luca has pretty much ruined me for anyone else.

‘Are you going to keep this on now?’ Luca asked, waving to the caravan.

‘Yes, I am.’ She hadn’t been sure before, but over the past couple of days she had made up her mind to keep it. She loved the freedom of it, and the peace – and with her mother gone, she could make more use of it. She would be able to come here on the spur of the moment, whenever the mood took her – just throw some stuff into the car and go. The idea was very appealing. ‘It’s nice to have somewhere to escape to. And when the weather’s like this, it’s lovely to just hop in the car and really make the most of it.’

‘It’s perfect. Though I think it would be great in any weather.’

‘Yeah, it is. I love being at the beach at any time of year.’ There was a special kind of cosiness about being snuggled up in the caravan listening to rain pelting down outside. ‘I might come here to write sometimes,’ she said. ‘You can use it too, if you ever want to get away, to paint or whatever.’

‘Really?’

‘Sure – any time. It’s just sitting here. I’d like people to enjoy it. And Mum would have liked you to use it,’ she said. ‘She was very fond of you, you know.’

He reached out and stroked her hair. ‘I was fond of her. I wish I could have known her longer.’

They were just finishing off the last of the wine when Aideen appeared along the path. Claire willed her to pass by, but she strolled up to the table, smiling broadly at Luca. She was wearing cargo shorts and a crop top, revealing an expanse of tanned stomach and a sparkly belly-button ring.

‘Hi again,’ she said to Luca, her smile faltering a little as her gaze moved to Claire.

‘Hi.’ Luca smiled back. ‘Claire, this is Aideen. Aideen, Claire.’

‘Hello.’ Claire forced a friendly smile.

‘Hi, Claire. This is the friend you’re here with?’ she asked Luca.

‘Yep.’

‘Oh, I thought … Anyway, I just came to invite you over for a drink. Um … both of you. We’re down there, third on the right.’ She waved in the direction she had come.

‘Thanks,’ Luca said.

‘Just drop over whenever you like.’

‘Thanks,’ Claire smiled, ‘but I think we’re going to have an early night.’ She took Luca’s hand in both hers, turning it over and stroking the palm, playing with the soft pads of his fingers. ‘Aren’t we?’

‘Um … yeah,’ he said uncertainly, frowning down at their hands. ‘Thanks anyway,’ he looked up at Aideen and smiled.

‘Okay. Some other time maybe.’ She turned to go.

Luca went to withdraw his hand as Aideen walked away, but Claire held on to it, intertwining her fingers with his.

‘Claire …’

Still holding his hand, she leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, willing him to meet her halfway. She hardly knew what she was doing, acting purely on instinct. She just knew she didn’t want him to be with that girl – or any girl except her. She kissed the other side of his mouth coaxingly.


‘Claire … stop.’ He looked cross as he snatched his hand away. He stood abruptly, collecting the empty dishes from the table, and stomped into the caravan.

Claire gathered up the glasses and empty wine bottle and followed him. He was throwing the dishes into the sink with a clatter, his back rigid with tension as he leaned on the counter. She dumped the glasses on the table and went over to him.

‘Luca.’ She put a hand on his shoulder and when he turned to face her, she swooped in and kissed him again. His lips were firm, and tasted fresh and briny, like the sea. But they were unyielding, and then he was pushing her away.

‘Jesus, Claire, give me a break!’ he yelled, as he held her at arm’s length.

She flinched at the harshness of his tone.

‘Sorry.’ He released her and raked a hand through his hair. ‘But I’m trying to be a friend here, and you’re not making it easy. You said you don’t want us to be … together that way any more so I’ve kept my distance. You wanted me to keep my hands to myself, and I have. But you can’t keep doing this. I don’t know what you want from me.’

‘I want this,’ she said, putting her hand on the back of his neck and pulling his face down.

He leaned his forehead against hers, resisting the pressure of her hand urging him to go the last couple of centimetres. ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You don’t.’

‘I’ve changed my mind.’ She kissed him again pleadingly, and she felt him start to respond, but he wrenched his lips away.

‘Don’t,’ he breathed against her mouth. ‘Look, if this is about that Aideen girl, I told you—’

‘It isn’t. It’s about you and me.’ She kissed him again, encouraged because he didn’t push her away this time. She sensed him weakening. ‘Please,’ she whimpered, running her tongue along his bottom lip, hearing his sharp intake of breath. ‘I want you.’ She took his hand and clamped it against her breast. ‘And if you want me to tell you in detail – I want you inside me, I want—’

‘Christ, I want you too,’ he groaned, wrapping his arms around her, and then he was kissing her back hungrily, desperately, angling his head this way and that. She felt a triumphant thrill as his tongue slid into her mouth.

He pulled back just enough to speak. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, his breath hot on her lips, his dark eyes burning into hers. ‘Do you really want this?’

She nodded frantically and he buried his head in her neck, placing soft open-mouthed kisses along her throat before returning to her mouth. Then he picked her up, her legs wrapped around him, and carried her to the bedroom, not breaking the kiss. They fell onto the bed in a tangle of legs and arms and tongues.


Claire woke the next morning her limbs knotted around Luca’s, the heat of his skin against hers. He was still fast asleep – not surprisingly, since they had made love half the night, first frantically, and then more slowly, Luca kissing and touching her with infinite tenderness, almost reverence. They had looked into each other’s eyes the whole time, and it had felt so loving that she still felt cocooned in the warmth of the afterglow.

She propped herself up on an elbow and watched Luca sleeping. He was so beautiful. She dropped little butterfly kisses on his shoulder and neck, the corner of his mouth, half hoping he would wake up and they could do it again. He stirred, his eyelids fluttering, but then he settled again, his breathing returning to a calm, steady rhythm.

Eventually she got restless and uncomfortably hot lying tangled up with him. So she extricated herself and slid out of bed. She pulled on some clothes and tiptoed into the living area. When she had put the coffee on and heated the grill to make toast, she grabbed her laptop and sat down at the table with it while she waited for the coffee to brew. After checking her emails and having a quick look at Twitter and Facebook, she opened the word processor and pulled up the draft she had written for a possible final blog post and read over it. Weekends I’m In Love – she felt a world away now from the person who had thought that might come true. She would have to come up with a different ending for NiceGirl. Of course, it didn’t have to be true – why break the habit of a lifetime? – but this felt all wrong. Besides, it was so obviously about Mark that it would give him the wrong idea. No, NiceGirl would need a different kind of happy-ever-after. Maybe she’d leave it open-ended, with NiceGirl still searching for her Mr Right. Or maybe she had already found him, she thought, glancing towards the bedroom – albeit a reluctant Mr Right.

The coffee pot bubbled and hissed to its finale, and she had just got up to make toast when her mobile rang. She grabbed it and went outside, not wanting to wake Luca. Her heart sank a little when she saw that Mark was calling, and she hesitated a moment before picking up. She knew she needed to talk to him, to break up with him, but she didn’t feel ready to have that conversation yet. She didn’t have much experience with that sort of thing, and she needed more time to think about what she would say. In the end, she hesitated so long that the phone rang out, and the missed-call alert flashed up on the screen. She rang him back straight away.

‘Hi, Mark,’ she said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. ‘Sorry, I didn’t get to my phone in time just then.’

‘Hi. How are you?’

‘I’m okay.’

‘Listen, the thing is I’m at the airport. I’m flying over to Dublin. So can I come and see you later?’

‘Oh! You’re coming here?’

‘Yeah. Look, I think we need to talk and it’s not really a conversation I want to have over the phone.’ He sighed. ‘Emma told me you were asking her about me and Sophie – except she didn’t know it was you, of course.’

‘Oh … yeah.’ Claire felt guilty for going behind his back. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘It’s okay. I mean, I wish you’d just asked me, but I can understand why you didn’t.’ He sighed. ‘Nothing happened but … I’d really like to talk to you face to face. Can I come round? Or meet you somewhere? I’ll be in Dublin in about an hour and a half.’

‘The thing is I’m not at home at the moment.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah, I’m in Wicklow. I came to the beach for the weekend. With a … friend.’

‘Damn.’ He laughed softly. ‘I thought I’d surprise you. Stupid idea. I have to get back for work stuff tomorrow, so I have an early flight in the morning.’

‘Well, I’m going home today anyway – back to work tomorrow. I could meet you later.’

‘Great. I’m staying at the Merrion. Ring me when you’re home and we’ll arrange it then.’

‘Okay. Talk to you later.’


Luca woke up with a smile on his face, automatically reaching out for Claire, and disappointed to find her not there. He sank back against the pillows, feeling rather pleased with himself as images from the previous night flashed through his mind. He didn’t have any regrets about it and he didn’t think Claire would either. There hadn’t been a glimmer of hesitation or uncertainty about the way she had made love with him. He knew she had wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her, matching his passion and desire kiss for kiss and touch for touch. He’d almost told her last night – he’d almost said the words when she was lying beneath him and he was moving inside her. He’d chickened out in the end. But he would tell her later, he decided, feeling giddy and loved-up as he got out of bed, pulled on some clothes and went in search of Claire. He was in love, Mark was toast, and all was right with the world.


He heard her voice outside when he walked into the living area. Looking out of the window, he saw her talking on her mobile. She was so gorgeous. After they’d had some breakfast, he’d persuade her to come back to bed for the rest of the day. Sod the beautiful weather.

There was hot coffee in the pot and he poured himself a mug and sat at the table. As he pushed Claire’s laptop aside, his fingers brushed against the mouse and the screen lit up. His eyes drifted idly over the open document that appeared, and then he froze, his mug halfway to his lips, as the words sank in. He pulled the laptop towards him and read it through again carefully, this time letting the full meaning of it hit home.

She’d got out of bed with him this morning and written this! God, what an idiot he’d been to think anything had changed. But what the f*ck did he expect? He had only himself to blame. He knew she wanted to be with Mark – that was the beginning and end of what their whole relationship had been about. How could he have forgotten? She’d told him she just wanted to be friends. She mustn’t have been thinking straight when she’d said all those things – and he’d been thinking with his dick. She’d just wanted a warm body, and he was there when Mark wasn’t. He should have stood his ground, turned her down.

But what difference would it have made? Would this be any easier if there hadn’t been that last time? He was being ridiculous, he told himself, getting pissy because a gorgeous girl had f*cked him senseless. He needed to get some perspective. There were worse things than being used for sex … by the girl you loved. It just didn’t seem like it right now.

He jumped up guiltily as Claire came in from outside, pushing the laptop away from him.

‘Hi.’ She smiled as she crossed to the table. He was relieved that she didn’t seem to have noticed the laptop and the screen had gone to sleep again. ‘I was about to make toast when Mark rang,’ she said, fiddling with the grill. ‘Do you want some?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘So – that was Mark. He’s on his way over to see me.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah. I thought we’d spend most of the day down here and go home in the evening, but I think we’d better leave this morning instead. He’s only here for the day, and I’ve to sort out clothes for work tomorrow. Sorry. Do you mind?’

‘No.’ He shook his head dazedly.

‘I really need to see him, especially after …’ She trailed off, her eyes drifting to the bedroom.

Shit! So much for her not feeling any regret. Mr Right snapped his fingers and she went running to … what? Confess all and beg his forgiveness? Pretend it had never happened and bury her dirty little secret for ever?

‘Look, I’m sorry about last night,’ he said.

‘You are?’

‘Yeah – I mean, about crossing the friends boundary.’

‘Well, it wasn’t exactly your fault. I practically begged you.’

‘Whatever. Anyway, no harm done, is there? I mean, you don’t have to tell Mark about it.’

‘No, but I—’ She stopped abruptly, biting her lip. ‘No, I suppose I don’t,’ she finished.

‘You’re upset, you’re not yourself. I think you’re allowed a mistake in the circumstances.’

‘A mistake. Right.’

‘I’ll pack up my stuff,’ he said, getting up and heading for the bedroom, ‘so I’ll be ready to go whenever you want.’

‘There’s no hurry,’ she called after him. ‘Come and have your toast.’

‘Wouldn’t want to keep Mr F*cking Right waiting,’ he mumbled angrily to himself, as he balled up his clothes and stuffed them into a bag.


Claire was a bundle of nerves as she made her way to the Merrion Hotel that evening. Luca had been quiet and subdued on the drive home from Brittas, and it had put her on edge. He seemed down, and even though he was perfectly civil, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was pissed off with her. When she’d dropped him off at his door, he’d kissed her cheek and thanked her for a lovely weekend, but he still seemed distant, and she’d wondered if he was deliberately trying to keep her at arm’s length. Had he guessed how she felt about him last night? Was he being aloof on purpose to remind her that it was just a casual thing and didn’t mean anything? She had already decided not to mention that she was breaking up with Mark in case Luca freaked out, thinking she had read too much into last night and was doing it so she could be with him.

The whole thing was nerve-racking, and now she had the ordeal of dumping Mark to go through as well. She wished he had cheated with Sophie, so she would have the perfect reason to dump him – no explanations necessary.

She found Mark waiting for her in the lounge. She was struck again by how good-looking he was – and how unaffected she was by him.

‘Hi.’ He kissed her cheek and hugged her. ‘How are you?’ he asked.

‘I’m okay. Good days and bad days.’

He nodded. ‘I’m really sorry again about your mum.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, as he released her and they sat side by side on the sofa. ‘And thank you for the flowers.’

A waitress came and they ordered tea. ‘So,’ Mark said, when it had been served, ‘I take it you saw some stuff on Twitter about Patrick’s party.’

‘Yeah,’ she said cautiously.

‘I wanted to talk to you. I mean, I wasn’t hiding anything. I rang you the next day, but then you told me about your mother …’ He shrugged. ‘And then it never felt like the right time to bring it up.’

‘I hadn’t seen any of it at that stage anyway. I hadn’t been on Twitter.’

‘I thought you probably hadn’t. So then I thought it would all just blow over and there was no need to upset you with it.’

‘You didn’t think I had a right to know?’

‘Know what?’ he asked. ‘Nothing happened. It was a lot of idle gossip.’

Claire raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Nothing happened?’

He looked at her silently as if weighing something up. Then he seemed to come to a decision. ‘Okay.’ He sighed. ‘Full disclosure. We kissed. But that’s all, I promise. It was a mistake, and I’m sorry. Sophie and I have this … thing. I suppose it was unfinished business, but it won’t happen again.’

‘Sophie seemed to be reading an awful lot into a kiss.’

‘That’s just Sophie.’

‘And what about New York?’

‘Look, I won’t lie – she made it clear she wants us to get back together. But nothing happened, I promise.’ He took her hand. ‘So, can you forgive me?’ he asked, looking earnestly into her eyes.

She took a deep breath. ‘I forgive you, but—’

‘Thank Christ for that,’ he said, putting an arm around her. ‘Because I really don’t want to lose you.’

She wriggled out of his embrace. ‘I hadn’t finished. I said I forgive you, Mark,’ she said, looking down at her hands, ‘but that doesn’t mean I want to be with you.’

‘You don’t think you can trust me,’ he said. ‘But Sophie and I are over, I swear.’

‘I don’t think you’ll ever be over, not really. You love her, don’t you?’


‘No, I—’

‘You may not want to,’ she continued, as he shook his head, ‘but I think you do. Whether you do something about it or not, she’ll always be there, and anyone else is going to feel like second best. And no one should settle for second best.’

He looked at her in silence, his expression anguished and confused, as if he was going through some sort of internal struggle.

‘Oh, f*ck.’ He huffed out a breath, propping his forehead on the heel of his hand. ‘I do love her, don’t I?’ He peered up at Claire from beneath his lashes.

‘Yeah, you do.’ She laughed wryly. ‘Tough luck!’

He smiled at her fondly. ‘You don’t hate me?’

‘No, I don’t hate you. Full disclosure – you got lucky. Because I’m in love with someone else too, as it happens.’

‘Well, I hope he’s a better prospect than Sophie, whoever he is.’

‘Not really. He’s not into anything serious.’

‘God, why can’t we just be in love with each other? We’d be great together,’ he observed.

‘I know! We’re perfect on paper.’

‘We’re both nice, we both want commitment …’

‘At least you know Sophie wants to be with you.’

‘Yes, but she’s such a pain in the arse.’ They laughed.

‘Luca’s lovely. But he’d run a mile if he knew I wanted to be his girlfriend.’

‘Christ! What a pair. Are you sure we can’t make this work?’ He grinned, waving his hand between them.

‘Hmm, maybe I was a bit hasty,’ she joked.

‘Seriously, Claire,’ he said, being serious. ‘I think we could have had something.’

‘Yeah,’ she said sadly. ‘I think you’re probably right.’ Maybe if she hadn’t known Luca, if he didn’t have Sophie … She took a sip of her tea. ‘Um, Mark … can I ask you something?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are you still going to publish my book?’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Of course I’m still going to publish your book. And I’m still waiting to read your novel too.’

‘Right. Great.’

‘Well, good luck with your chap,’ he said, raising his teacup to hers.

‘Good luck to both of us!’ She clinked her cup against his. ‘I think we’re going to need it.’


A week later, Claire still hadn’t seen or heard from Luca, and with every day that passed, she became more anxious. She didn’t want to race around and tell him she had broken up with Mark in case it freaked him out. But she was terrified he’d be off banging some other girl if she left it too long.

On Monday she was only half listening to Yvonne recounting her weekend’s activities as they unpacked boxes when Luca’s name brought her up with a jolt.

‘Sorry, what did you say?’

‘I said I almost felt sorry for Luca, with that cow Aisling crawling all over him. I don’t know if you remember her – she was at Ivan’s bar that night.’

‘She can do the splits,’ Claire said, feeling queasy.

Yvonne laughed. ‘Fancy you remembering that! Anyway, she’s been trying to get her claws into Luca for ages, and I think she senses his weakness now and she’s closing in for the kill.’

‘Weakness? What weakness?’

Yvonne shrugged. ‘I don’t know exactly, but there’s something wrong with Luca. He’s off his game. He’s not his usual cocky self.’ She sighed. ‘I know I shouldn’t feel sorry for him – that boy’s brought it all on himself – but I can’t help it. He doesn’t deserve Aisling Wilson.’

‘So, did he –’ Claire gulped ‘– did he go off with her?’

‘No.’ Yvonne laughed. ‘He went home on his own to paint and sulk, so he lives to fight another day. You should have seen Aisling’s face …’


Claire spent the rest of the day trying to come up with an excuse to call over to Luca’s after work. She knew she shouldn’t need an excuse – they were supposed to be friends, and he hadn’t given her any indication that he had changed his mind about that – but, nevertheless, she thought it would seem more casual if she had a reason for calling. Unfortunately he hadn’t left any of his stuff in her car after their trip to Brittas – she had done a thorough search. There wasn’t even anything she could pretend she thought was his. If only she could offer him another five hundred for an advanced course of lessons, she thought desperately.

Finally she came up with something. It was spurious at best, but it would have to do. That evening, she made her way to his place. She didn’t call in advance, not wanting to give him the chance to put her off.

When she got to his building, the door was open and two pale blonde girls were sunning themselves on the steps. They said hi to Claire as she passed. Her heart was hammering as she climbed the stairs. Maybe she should have rung the bell, even though the front door was open. Luca might not even be in. And what if he wasn’t alone? Maybe Aisling Wilson would be there, doing the splits – on his face. This was probably a really bad idea …

She tried to steady her nerves as she knocked on his door.

‘Claire! Hi.’ He looked surprised to see her, but she couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not as he stood blinking at her in the doorway.

‘Hi. Um … can I come in?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. He stepped back, holding the door.

She was relieved that he seemed to be alone.

‘It’s nice to see you.’ He smiled. ‘Drink?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘So, what brings you round?’ he asked, as he handed her a glass of red wine. He waved her to the sofa and she sat. She took a sip of wine, feeling almost as nervous as the first time she had come here.

‘Um … well, I was thinking about …’ She wasn’t sure how to start. ‘Remember I said I’d pose for you … you know, naked?’

‘Yeah,’ he said warily, eyes narrowed.

‘Well, I never did, and I thought I should arrange to … do that.’

‘Right.’ He looked at her quizzically, his expression torn between amusement and bewilderment.

‘So, um … when would be convenient for you?’

‘Look, I’m not going to hold you to that.’

‘A promise is a promise,’ she said.

‘Well, I’m letting you off the hook.’

‘Oh, okay.’ She felt deflated. That hadn’t got her very far! Now she needed to think of something else to say, so she could casually drop her news about Mark into the conversation. ‘What have you been up to?’

‘Just working mainly,’ he said, waving at the easel by the window.

She stood and walked over to look at the painting.

‘How about you?’ he asked, as he poured himself a drink.

‘Oh, just the usual – work and writing. And I’ve broken up with Mark,’ she blurted.

‘You have?’ He swung round to her.

‘Yeah. Well … called things off. Breaking up sounds a bit dramatic since it never really got started in the first place.’

‘Who broke it off?’

‘I did.’ She studied his expression, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

‘Why?’

She shrugged. ‘I just didn’t feel that way about him. I realised I never would.’


He frowned. ‘I thought he was “the one”. Mr Right.’

‘What? Why would you think that?’

He sighed. ‘I saw your blog post,’ he admitted sheepishly. ‘I didn’t mean to read it, but your laptop was open the other morning and—’

‘Oh!’ she gasped. Oh, Christ, he’d read that the morning after they’d had sex. He probably thought she’d just written it. No wonder he’d been a bit off with her on the way home. ‘But that wasn’t about Mark. I mean, not really. You know my blog is a load of bullshit.’

He laughed. ‘That’s true. So you broke up with him on Sunday?’ he asked, and finally she could read his expression: he was happy.

‘Yes,’ she said, smiling back at him.

‘Does this mean—’

‘We can be f*ck buddies now!’ she exclaimed.

Suddenly he became very still. ‘What?’ he whispered.

‘You and me, I mean. Not – not me and …’ She trailed off as his face was completely transformed. She was taken aback by how angry he looked.

‘F*ck buddies?’ he snarled. ‘You want me to be your f*ck buddy?’

‘Well … yeah. I thought—’

‘Because that’s all I’m good for, right?’ He banged his glass down on the table. ‘Just a meaningless f*ck!’

‘No, of course not! But—’

‘Just while you wait for the next Mr Right to come along, of course,’ he fumed. ‘And then what? I’m supposed to melt into the background? Stand by and watch the girl I love walk off into the sunset with—’

‘What?’ Her voice came out as a stunned whisper, barely audible. ‘The girl you …’

‘Love. To bits,’ he said, with a look of such helpless yearning Claire thought her heart might burst.

‘Oh.’ Tears stung the backs of her eyes.

‘Yeah. So I’ll pass on the whole f*ck-buddy thing, if you don’t mind. Look, I think you should—’

She cut him short by launching herself at him so that she knocked the breath out of him and he was forced to catch her in his arms as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

‘Claire, get off me!’ he said irritably, trying to detach her, but she clung on tighter.

‘Oh, Luca! I love you too,’ she said, kissing his face. ‘So much.’

He became very still. ‘What?’ he breathed. He lifted her off him, planting her on the floor. ‘Say that again.’

‘I love you. To bits.’

‘You do?’ He looked at her wonderingly, and then his whole face lit up like he was having an epiphany.

‘I do.’ She reached up and touched the side of his face, his stubble rough against her fingers.

‘How come you’ve never said?’

‘Because I didn’t want to freak you out. I knew you didn’t want me to fall for you—’

‘What on earth gave you that idea?’ he said crossly.

‘Er … you did. You told me I wasn’t to get hung up on you, remember? It was your number-one rule.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ He laughed ruefully. ‘So I did. You’re not the only one who’s full of shit.’

‘Well, I broke your stupid rule anyway.’

‘Good. It was a stupid rule. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

‘Why didn’t you say something?’

‘Because you were with Mark. I thought he was what you wanted. And then I almost told you that night in the caravan,’ he said. ‘But the next day I saw your blog …’

‘I didn’t write it that morning,’ she said. ‘I’d written it way before that and I was just looking at it because I needed to change it.’

‘Anyway, I thought Mark was ‘the One’. So I was trying to do the decent thing and walk away from the girl I love – even though it was killing me.’ He shrugged. ‘I was being all noble and stuff.’

She tilted her head to the side. ‘Well, you can do that, if you like. Or you could be the one who gets the girl. It’s up to you.’

‘I’ve never done the decent thing in my life,’ he said, pulling her into his arms. ‘Why start now?’


‘Mm, I’ve missed being here,’ Claire said later, as they lay entwined in Luca’s bed.

‘Seriously? In this shithole?’

‘No, not your flat – though I’ve kind of missed that too. Here,’ she said, pressing her naked body against his and nestling into the crook of his shoulder. ‘I’ve missed being here.’

Luca sighed contentedly, stroking her back. ‘Claire, can I ask you something?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Did you really come over here tonight to arrange to pose naked for me?’

‘Um … no,’ she admitted.

‘I thought it seemed a bit random.’

‘But I will,’ she said, drawing away from him. ‘A promise is a promise.’ She shook off the covers and stood on the bed, looking down at him. So,’ she said spreading her arms to encompass the room, ‘where do you want me?’

She didn’t squirm even a little bit as Luca’s eyes raked slowly over her body. Then he reached up and grabbed her wrist, yanking her back down beside him. ‘Here,’ he said, wrapping his arms around her. ‘I want you here.’

She nuzzled his chest, smiling as he bent to kiss her. ‘Here is good.’