Chapter 54
The end of the first dance is signalled by riotous applause and cheering from inside. The band starts up with a different song, another whoop rising from the wedding crowd as they begin to passionately belt out the lyrics to ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’.
‘Oh, I love this song!’ says Tilly, leaping from her chair, the blanket slipping from her shoulders.
Alfie tries not to focus too hard on the freckles on her bare arms.
‘Come on,’ she says, reaching out a hand. ‘I feel like dancing, and I really don’t want to dance alone.’
How can he refuse? He takes her hand, small and warm and soft in his, as he stands up.
‘I don’t really dance,’ he says, standing stiffly. But then the chorus kicks in and he just lets go, right there on the balcony, twisting and jiving, flailing his arms. He dusts his shoulders then breaks into an enthusiastic robot.
Tilly laughs wildly, clutching her sides.
‘Oh my god, I was not expecting that.’
‘What? Do I not look good on the dancefloor?’ he says, swinging an imaginary lasso around his head before going into something he’s seen his little nieces describe as the lawnmower, pulling an imaginary cord back and forth.
Oh god, what is he doing? He wasn’t kidding – he doesn’t usually dance – but she is still laughing, and the sound of it is so intoxicating that he throws all his inhibitions to one side and lets his long legs and arms move as if he were a child dancing with his dad to Toploader.
Tilly is getting into the swing of things too, twisting her hips, the silk of her dress riding up, clinging to her curves.
She reaches for his hands and they bop along together, swinging each other’s arms.
‘We are definitely not in time with the music,’ she laughs as he swings her away from him and she nearly knocks into a rattan table before twirling and coming back towards him.
‘Doesn’t matter.’
They continue to twist and twirl, shaking their hips and kicking their legs in a mad, uncoordinated dance. Somehow, he has ended up with his arms around her waist, her hands draped around his neck.
A pain stabs him under the ribs and he lets out a groan. ‘I think I need to stop, I’m getting a stitch.’
They slow to a stop, their hands still on one another.
‘Probably for the best,’ Tilly says, her breathing rapid. ‘I’m a mess.’
Her hair is wild on her shoulders, the flowers in her crown drooping. A pink flush spreads over her cheeks and forehead.
‘You’re beautiful,’ Alfie says, without thinking.
Her eyes widen and he drops his hands from her waist.
‘Shit, sorry … I didn’t mean to say that. I’ve been trying so hard all day not to say that.’
From inside comes another roar and the opening chords of ‘Mr Brightside’.
‘It’s OK,’ she says softly, her hands still on his shoulders.
‘It isn’t, though! You’ve made it very clear you just want to be friends and I completely get that. I’m more than OK with that. Being your friend is an honour. But then I have to go and make it weird by saying how incredible you look in that dress. Shit, I’ve done it again!’
He steps away from her, putting distance between them. Because if he keeps standing so close to her he might say more stupid things.
‘Alfie, it’s OK …’
It seems that the distance hasn’t helped, because she is still there, still in that red dress, still the person who has got him to laugh more in the past few months than he has in years. He opens his mouth and the words come tumbling out.
‘I think you’re amazing, Tilly Nightingale.
You’re brave and so kind, the way you’ve listened to all of my baggage, and everything you’ve done recently to help the bookshop, and the way you’ve been here today for your sister even though it was hard.
But I shouldn’t have overstepped. I want you to feel safe with me. ’
Because that’s how I feel with you, he thinks.
Tilly looks at him, her face unreadable. A cool breeze catches at the strands of her hair. When she answers, her voice is soft.
‘I do feel safe with you. You’ve always made me feel that way. I feel it whenever I step into the bookshop. Whenever we’re together.’
‘Oh.’
His chest constricts as her pale eyes remain fixed on his. A gust of wind blows across the balcony and she shivers. He reaches for the blanket that slipped off when they were dancing, wrapping it around her shoulders.
‘Shall we go back inside? I don’t want you to get cold.’
As he goes to step away, she reaches a hand to his waist, pulling him gently towards her.
‘Wait. Stay here a second. Will you just … hold me for a moment?’
His body stiffens, his skin tingling. He considers for a moment and then wraps his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. She lets out a little sigh and it takes all his strength not to groan into her hair, feeling the whole of her soft body pressed against him.
‘Thank you,’ she mumbles into his chest and he tightens his grip, holding her steady.
They stay like that for a while, just holding each other as the party continues inside, the lights of the city spread out around them. She pulls away just enough to tilt her face up to look at him.
‘Alfie?’
‘Mmm?’
He wonders if she can feel how hard his heart is beating beneath the suit he bought specially for today.
‘I’d really like you to kiss me.’
He lifts an eyebrow questioningly, his eyes flashing.
‘Are you sure?’ he manages to choke out.
‘Kiss me, Alfie.’
Her voice is lower and raspier than he’s ever heard and it does something to him, making him forget everything else but the feel of her soft hair between his fingers as he places a hand at the back of her neck and dips his mouth down to meet hers. She tastes like lipstick and pink cocktails.
Inside, the wedding band sings a song about fireworks as Alfie feels them explode in his chest.
His lips are gentle at first. He kisses her like she’s something precious, lightly cradling the back of her head, stroking the nape of her neck with his thumb. With the other hand he brushes a strand of hair away from her cheek.
‘Is this OK?’ He pulls away just far enough to search her face for any sign to stop, his eyes liquid as they meet hers.
But to her surprise Tilly doesn’t feel like stopping.
‘It’s good, really good,’ she murmurs, then bridges the gap between them again, pressing her lips against his, more firmly this time.
He hesitates for the briefest of moments before responding with a renewed heat, gripping her more tightly, one hand sliding to the small of her back and pulling her close so their bodies lock together. His lips part and she darts a tongue into his mouth, making him shiver.
‘God, Tilly,’ he groans into her.
The sound of it makes her lips spread into a grin, smiling as she continues to kiss him.
‘You’re sure you’re OK?’ he murmurs, pausing to catch his breath.
His shirt is wrinkled from where she’s been gripping it beneath his jacket, and his hair sticks up from where she just ran a hand through it.
‘You’re sure you want this? Because we can stop …’
‘I want this,’ she says firmly and his eyes flash, then he is lifting her by the hips and sitting her down gently on the wooden table behind them.
Her dress hitches up as she opens her legs and he stands between them, bringing his hands to her hair again and kissing her hard.
It’s her turn to let out a noise now as he holds her tightly.
She tugs at the back of his shirt, untucking it so she can slip her hands up, needing suddenly to feel his warm skin, drinking in the feel of him beneath her hands.
He draws in a sharp breath as she drags her fingernails ever so lightly down his back.
‘Tilly,’ he says breathlessly.
And then he is dipping his head to kiss the soft skin on her neck and she mouths his name too, holding him against her and feeling both safe and as if she is falling – aching and gloriously, miraculously alive.
The sound of music and laughter from inside makes them both turn as the balcony door slides open and a group of Raj’s friends tumble outside, chatting and rifling through bags for cigarettes and lighters.
They glance in the direction of Tilly and Alfie but then return to their conversation, heading to the far end of the balcony, away from them.
Alfie’s arms are still wrapped around Tilly, her dress rumpled. And Tilly can’t help but laugh, tipping her head back. Alfie laughs too then kisses her on the forehead, stepping back and holding out his hand to help her down from the table.
‘Well,’ she says, smoothing down her dress. ‘I think I need a cold drink after that.’
‘I think I need a cold shower,’ Alfie says in a low voice, making Tilly’s stomach flip.
‘Not sure I can manage that, but how about two mojitos?’
‘I can go,’ he says, moving as if to leave, but she lifts a hand to his chest.
‘No, you stay here. Don’t go anywhere, OK?’ She grins as she gives him a final kiss on the cheek.
Alfie is grinning too.
Alfie watches Tilly leave, trying to catch his breath.
He can still taste her and feel the imprint of her fingers on his skin.
It was everything he promised himself couldn’t happen …
but god, it felt so good. And she seemed to come alive in his arms, kissing him back harder than he’d expected, running her hands up his back and making his entire body melt.
As she kissed him, it felt for the first time in a long while as though maybe everything could work out OK.
Maybe they could find a way to save the bookshop.
Maybe he could be more to Tilly than her friend.
Maybe he could believe in a happily-ever-after again – and slowly, gently, perhaps he could even make her believe too.
The balcony door opens and he wonders if she is back already.
But it’s Raj who stumbles outside, his jacket gone and his shirt hanging untucked on one side.
His friends wave and call to him from the other end of the balcony and he raises a hand in greeting, gesturing that he’ll be over in a minute.
Then he weaves unsteadily towards Alfie, slumping down in one of the chairs.
‘Alfie, mate. Good to see you.’ He says it with the warmth of someone who has been a friend for years, not someone who Alfie only met for the first time today.
It makes Alfie smile; all day he’s been made to feel so welcome. Like he maybe could belong here among these people.
‘Having a good night?’ he asks.
Raj tips his head back slightly, looking up at the night’s sky. ‘The best. Just needed some air, though. I might have had too much to drink.’ He gives Alfie a lopsided smile.
‘If you can’t have too much to drink on your wedding day, when can you?’
‘Quite right!’ Raj straightens himself in the chair. ‘Hey, Tilly was great today, wasn’t she?’
A shiver runs through Alfie’s body just at the mention of her name. Tilly. Whose mouth was just on his, her hands on his skin.
‘She was.’
‘It can’t have been an easy day but it meant so much to Harper to have her here.
I swear she would have refused to get married at all if Tils wasn’t there.
I’ve got her to thank for this …’ Raj lifts up his hand, displaying his new gold wedding band.
‘Man, I can’t believe I’m married.’ He stares at the ring for a moment, his eyes glazing slightly.
‘I know Tilly really wanted to be here. And it’s been a great day. Congratulations.’
‘Thanks, mate.’ Raj lets out a sigh. ‘We’re going to miss her, though. But it’s great news for her.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Tilly’s new job in New York. Harper’s going to be a mess when she leaves, but I know she’ll find loads of excuses to visit. And it’s her dream job – opportunities don’t come along like that every day.’
A roar of laughter comes from the other end of the balcony, making Raj turn in the direction of the sound, but all Alfie can think about is the ringing in his ears and the way the air feels suddenly very cold.
‘Right, I’d better go say hi to my friends. But you have a good rest of the night, yeah? And thanks again for coming. She’s lucky to have a friend like you.’
When Tilly returns with the drinks, Alfie is gone. She searches the balcony for him, spotting Raj instead. He raises a hand in greeting.
‘Hey, Tils. Alfie said to say he’s sorry but he had to go. I think the cocktails might not have agreed with him. And I might have had one too many myself …’
She places the drinks down on a table, hastily smoothing her hair where it is still tangled from Alfie’s hands. She recalls the sound of his throaty groans and the feeling of his hand cupping her face …
But he must have regretted the kiss. And maybe he is right. Maybe it’s for the best. Where could it have led, really?
Just because kissing Alfie has made her feel more alive than she’s felt in a long time, it doesn’t mean it’s worth upending her life for. Does it?