Chapter 18
I’m not sleeping well.
It’s not my new king-sized bed, in my newly decorated room – that’s great. I think it’s just, oh, everything that is on my mind.
I feel like my life has imploded. I don’t have my own home, a job, a partner – I’ve been basically run out of London. It’s hard to accept that I’m pretty much going to have to start from scratch.
I guess I’ll get up.
I leave my room – sneaking, for some reason – and walk across the landing, noticing Adam’s bedroom door is open. Is it weird that I can’t resist peeping inside? No, no, I shouldn’t do that. That’s definitely weird.
I carry on down the stairs, and when I’m finally at the bottom I walk with a bit more confidence, but as I step into the kitchen I crash straight into something – Adam.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ I babble, but as I compose myself I realise that Adam is wearing nothing but a fitted pair of boxer shorts and…
wow. I knew he was muscular, but I wasn’t expecting him to look quite so much like an underwear model.
I force my gaze upward and try to maintain eye contact, but it’s not easy.
‘Good morning,’ he says with a big smile.
‘Morning,’ I reply, shifting about awkwardly because I’ve just remembered I’m in the shorts and cropped vest I slept in (or tried to sleep in, anyway). ‘Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.’
‘That’s okay,’ he replies. ‘It’s your home too. I’m not usually up this early, but I’ve got a work thing.’
‘This early?’ I reply. ‘Wow. I’m not usually up this early either but… I can’t sleep. I thought I’d make myself a coffee, try to stay up for the day.’
I sigh midsentence. I don’t mean to, it just creeps out.
Adam looks at me for a second, the cogs turning in his brain, I’m just not sure why.
‘Do you want to come with me?’ he asks.
He grabs a pair of trackies and a T-shirt from the drying rack in the kitchen and throws them on.
‘Oh, I, er… to your work thing?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, it’s on the beach,’ he tells me. ‘It’s suspiciously bright out, not that cold, and the tide’s low. Good walking weather, if you don’t mind a bit of wind. I’m leaving now, but I’m going to grab a takeaway coffee from the hut on the beach. What do you think?’
‘Oh, I’m not dressed,’ I point out. ‘I don’t want to hold you up.’
Adam looks at the drying rack before grabbing another pair of trackies and a thick hoodie.
‘Here, wear these,’ he tells me. ‘It’s just the beach. No one dresses up at this time of year.’
I laugh. I want to say yes so badly. Fuck it, why not?
‘Yeah, okay, sure,’ I reply. ‘Do I have a few minutes to nip to the bathroom and brush my teeth?’
‘Of course,’ he says. ‘I’ll wait by the door.’
I don’t want to brush my teeth – well, I do, obviously – but what I really want to do is throw on a bit of make-up, lightning-fast. I want to look my best.
I put on Adam’s hoodie as I head up the stairs and, wow, it smells so good.
This is the last thing I expected to happen when I got up early, but suddenly I’m quite glad I couldn’t sleep. Let’s see where today takes me.