CHAPTER 13
ROBBIE
The touch of raindrops felt like heaven on my heated skin.
The club’s bass still thudded in my chest as we spilled out into the cool night air.
Soho was quieter now, the streets slick with rain, neon reflections shimmering like spilled paint.
Tilting my head back, I looked into the cloud-filled sky and breathed in the silence after the chaos.
A quick glance showed few signs of traffic, with few people about.
Sighing, I turned back to look at Ashton.
“I didn’t realise how late it was.”
Pulling my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, I glanced at the train schedule glaring back at me. The last one had gone. The next one wouldn’t be until morning.
Ugh, fantastic. Biting back a groan. I turned to Ashton, a grimace on my face.
His bashful smile tugged at my heartstrings. “Guess London’s got you for the night.”
For a second, panic rushed through me. I wasn’t budgeting on paying for a London hotel.
Back in my former job, I knew only too well just how expensive they could be.
Even the cheap ones. Part of me wondered whether I could rest up on a bench at Waterloo.
The laugh that escaped my lips was half incredulous, half resigned to my fate, and I couldn’t help the self-deprecating words.
“Brilliant. First gay bar, first missed train. I’m really nailing this initiation thing. ”
We walked side by side with no real destination in mind, our bodies so close that our fingertips brushed together, causing a rush of tingles to race down my spine. Distracting me from the thought of spending the night on a bench.
Around us, the city hummed. My nerves buzzed, but Ashton’s presence calmed me as much as it excited me. At a quiet corner, beneath a lone streetlight, Ashton stopped.
The glow caught in his hair softened his features. Turning, I looked at him, trying not to notice just how kissable his lips looked. With his rain-wet eyelashes, making his eyes shiny, and breeze-ruffled hair. My fingers twitched with the urge to touch it. He really was breath-taking.
“You did good tonight. You let yourself breathe.”
For once I didn’t ponder or censor my words. Instead, I clamped down my rising fear and spoke from the heart, my voice soft and low. Not wanting to shatter the stillness that had settled between us. “With you, it felt...natural.”
The pause stretched, charged. My heart hammered against my chest.
Almost in slow motion, I watched Ashton lean closer, not rushing, just offering. Closing the gap, I touched my mouth to his, our lips brushing — tentative, then surer, the kiss tasting of prosecco and promise.
When we broke apart, my breath caught. The reality of the moment hit me. That was my first proper kiss, not just with a man. But with anyone.
“I don’t want this night to end.”
Ashton touched his forehead to mine; his touch felt like a promise. “Then don’t. Come back with me. My flat’s not far; you’re welcome to kip on the sofa. No pressure for anything more if you don’t want to. We’ll figure out trains in the morning.”
My hesitation only lasted a heartbeat before I nodded. The decision felt less like surrender and more like freedom.