Chapter Thirty-Four
Friday
Ruby:
I’m in love with Josh.
I think I’ve known for a while, but the thought only really solidifies at the end of Christmas Day, after he’s won Uno for the fifth time and made Mum, Oscar and Emma laugh so much that Oscar has threatened to throw him out twice.
He’s sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the sofa, smugly laying down another Draw Four while Oscar calls him a cheating prick, and I’m curled into the corner with a glass of wine watching him laugh.
Head tipped back, eyes crinkled, completely unguarded in a way I don’t see very often, and the realisation washes over me.
I love him.
I love him. I love him. I love him.
Mum wanders back in from the kitchen carrying another bowl of crisps and starts fussing because Josh’s glass is empty. “You want another one, love?”
Josh shakes his head. “I’m okay, thanks.”
“You sure? There’s plenty.”
“Mum,” Oscar groans. “He can pour his own drink. Let the man breathe.”
Mum holds her hands up. “I was only asking.”
Oscar rolls his eyes. “You’ve been feeding him since seven this morning.”
“He’s a guest.” Mum clips Oscar gently around the head. “I treat my guests well.”
“He’s eaten more food than all of us combined. He’ll be rolling out the front door.”
Josh points a Uno card at him. “You’re bitter because you’re losing.”
“I’m bitter because you’re a cheating prick.”
“Oscar!” Mum snaps, her voice the same one from when we were little that would have us running and hiding.
“What?” Oscar takes another sip of wine. “It’s Christmas.”
Mum tuts, looking very displeased. “That doesn’t make it festive language.”
Emma bursts out laughing and Josh looks over at me, grinning, while Oscar gets to his feet and follows mum out to the kitchen, arguing about why swearing is culturally British and therefore appropriate at Christmas.
My eyes catch Josh’s and the emotion filters through me from my scalp to my toes.
I am embarrassingly, terrifyingly, completely in love with Josh, who spent half of last night trying to convince me I deserve better than him and then woke up in my bed after he tried to gallantly take the sofa.
He doesn’t know.
Jesus Christ, he cannot know. He would never speak to me again.
“Rubes,” Josh kicks my foot, whispering so Mum and Oscar can’t hear. “Can we go to your room?”
I frown. “Why?”
He jerks his chin towards the kitchen, the blue paper hat from the Christmas cracker almost falling off his head. “He scares me, and you still haven’t opened your present from me.”
“So? You haven’t opened yours from me.”
“Yeah, so let’s go and open them?”
I laugh and set my glass down on the coffee table, then push myself onto my feet. “Fine. Come on.”
As we head for the stairs, I wonder what Josh makes of our tiny, poky flat now that I’ve seen where he grew up.
Mum has done everything she can with it over the years, covering the magnolia walls with prints and hanging plants, throwing cushions over the old sofa, filling every spare surface with candles, books and bits she’s picked up from charity shops until the whole place feels warm and a little chaotic.
I’ve never thought of it as especially small before, but after seeing Josh’s house last night I’m suddenly hyper-aware of every narrow doorway and creaky floorboard.
I can’t really believe he went to private school, grew up behind security gates in a house with more windows than our entire block, and has spent months acting like none of that exists.
No showing off, no little comments, no posh-prick superiority.
He sat at our table while Mum ranted about rich people hoarding wealth and agreed with her.
Ate a roast dinner like he hadn’t been raised in a house with a kitchen bigger than our living room.
Slept in my bed without mentioning that his own bedroom could probably swallow mine whole.
It makes the difference between us feel bigger, but weirdly, not in a way that makes me feel smaller.
If anything, it just makes Josh make more sense.
I push my bedroom door open and he follows me in, ducking his head beneath the stupid string of fake ivy Mum helped me pin around the frame last summer.
My room feels microscopic with him in it.
The double bed takes up most of the floor space, there’s barely a gap between the wardrobe and the desk, and every wall is covered in photos, prints and bits of crap I’ve collected over the years.
After seeing his house, I half expect to feel embarrassed by it, but Josh just drops onto the edge of my bed like he’s been doing it forever.
“I’m having a really good day.” He informs me, kicking back and stretching out on my bed. “Thanks for forcing me to come.”
I close the door. “Give it time, by day five you’ll be sprinting away from us.”
He reaches out and catches both my hands. “Not a chance.”
I barely have time to roll my eyes before he yanks me towards him and I go down with a yelp, landing across his chest hard enough to knock the air out of myself.
I start laughing and try to push myself up, but Josh hooks an arm around me and rolls us so quickly that my back sinks into the mattress and he ends up stretched over me, one forearm planted beside my head while the rest of him presses me into the bed.
“Josh,” I hiss, laughing, although it comes out far too breathless.
His green eyes move over my face, his mouth hovering inches from mine. “I’m serious. I really like being with you.”
“And I like being with you.” I slip my hands under his top, dragging my nails lightly over the hard lines of his stomach. “I really like this.”
Josh sucks in a breath through his teeth and shifts closer, the movement pressing me further into the mattress. “You drive me fucking insane, do you know that?” His voice is gravelly, the words brushing against my lips. “Totally fucking bonkers.”
“Good,” I breathe, scraping my nails harder over his skin.
“Holy shit.”
“Does that feel good?” I bat my lashes at him, dragging my nails over the same spot again, obsessed with the way his whole body reacts to it.
Josh lets out a breath that sounds halfway between a laugh and a groan, then drops his head closer until the end of his nose brushes mine. “You know it does.” He leans down and starts trailing scorching hot kisses along my neck.
“Mm.” I nod, feeling myself clench everywhere. “Tell me you want me, Josh.”
His mouth stills against my neck and I wonder if I’ve pushed too far, but then he lifts his head and looks at me with an intensity that makes every bit of bravado drain straight out of me. “You know I want you.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
Josh exhales through his nose, eyes alight with heat and need. “I want you, Ruby. Constantly. It’s never ending.”
A grin pulls at my mouth. “That sounds more like a complaint.”
“It is a complaint.” He dips his head again, kissing along my jaw before adding against my skin, “I can’t concentrate around you. I can’t think straight around you. Half the time you walk into a room and I forget what I was saying.”
“That’s very flattering.”
“It’s a nightmare.”
I laugh, sliding my hands farther up his back beneath his top. “Poor Josh.”
“Exactly.” His mouth brushes mine. “You should feel terrible.”
“I really don’t.”
“No, I didn’t think you would.” He kisses me hard, one hand catching my face while the other slides into my hair, and the force of it sends me sinking further into the mattress.
When he finally pulls back, it’s only far enough to breathe, his mouth still brushing mine. “You’re a little menace, Ruby Hollis.”
“I’m your menace, Josh.”
“Yeah.” His fingers tighten slightly in my hair as he looks down at me, all the teasing gone from his face now.
“You are.” He kisses me again, slower this time but somehow more intense, and when he lifts his head his forehead stays pressed against mine.
“You’re mine, Ruby.” The words sink into me like honey.
Before I can say anything, he shakes his head slightly, like he needs to get the rest out before he loses his nerve.
“I know I’ve been really shit at this whole thing, but I meant what I said on the night of Abi’s condom fiasco.
I’m completely yours. I think I have been for ages, even when I was being too much of a fucking idiot to admit it. ”
God.
I grab the front of his top and pull him down, kissing him hard enough that it hurts.
His hands move over me again and I don’t even care that we’re supposed to be opening presents, or that my entire family is downstairs, or that Oscar would probably commit an actual murder if he walked in right now.
“You’re mine,” I mumble against his lips.
“Yeah.”
“And I’m yours.”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” I nod, feeling my heart hammer away.
It’s not a declaration of love or commitment of a relationship, but it’s enough.
For now, it’s enough.