Seventeen
‘Ilike being snowed in with you,’ Sam said two hours later as I lay wrapped in his arms. ‘We should do this again.’
‘We should. I’ll pencil it in for ten years’ time.’
He shifted his position to throw me a look. ‘I may not like commitment, Lucy, but I’d be happy to commit to that. Or even to two years. Or … less. Possibly.’
‘Let’s see how the rest of this week goes,’ I said, trying to play it cool and avoiding his eyes after the last two hours of incredible sex. I was so close to blurting out the words, ‘I love you, Sam,’ that it frightened me.
He lifted me from him and tilted my chin so that he could look me in the eye.
‘Have I done something wrong? Or said something I shouldn’t have?’ There was genuine concern in his eyes.
‘No! You’ve been … great. Better than great. You’ve been … perfect. But … we’ve already had one blazing row. We might have more before the week is out.’
‘Why would we? We understand each other much better now, don’t you think? I was a jerk yesterday. I’ll admit that. But I didn’t want to lie to you. Or to lead you on. Or make you think this might lead to something I knew it wouldn’t. It couldn’t.’
‘Yes. I think we’ve established what this won’t lead to. All I meant was, despite the sex being wonderful and working perfectly between us, we don’t really know one another, do we?’
‘Don’t we? I feel like we do. I feel as if I’ve known you all my life.’ He laughed. ‘And I have known you for ten years.’
‘No. You knew me for one week, ten years ago. And now you’ve known me for one day.’
‘Is that … is that how you really feel? That you hardly know me?’
‘Please don’t be cross,’ I soothed, reaching out and stroking his cheek.
He took my hand in his and kissed it. ‘I’m not cross. I’m … a little sad, that’s all. Sad that you feel that way. I feel I know you inside and out.’
I smiled seductively. ‘You certainly know me … intimately after last night and today.’
He pulled me in for a kiss.
Afterwards, I eased myself away.
‘To continue. There are lots of things you don’t know about me, Sam. For example. You don’t know my favourite colour.’
‘It’s red. And purple. You like them both.’
‘Oh!’ His correct response startled me. ‘Yours is black. And dark blue is a close second.’
He smiled. ‘You see. We do know one another.’
‘Okay. Favourite song?’
He tutted. ‘Oh come on, Lucy. That’s not fair. I know what it was ten years ago. Jason Derulo’s Want to Want Me. ’
‘Yes! It was your favourite too.’
He nodded. ‘It was. Now it’s anything by Sam Fender. I haven’t really been listening to much music lately.’
‘I like his stuff too,’ I said, astonished that we still appeared to have similar tastes. ‘But like you. I haven’t been listening to music as much as I normally would.’
‘Favourite person to kiss?’ Sam asked before pulling me to him again. ‘If it’s not me, I don’t want to know.’
‘Oh it’s you, Sam. It’s definitely you.’