Page 97 of Not in a Million Years
I lowered my eyes, feeling my face flame. ‘I didn’t realise, back in the day, that you… Well, that you kind of liked me.’
‘Probably wouldn’t have been any use if you had,’ he said. ‘Given you were kind of otherwise occupied.’
‘Yeah. I was. I thought I was in love with Andy. I guess I was in love, but in a totally screwed-up way.’
‘Quite the Messiah complex you had going on, back in the day.’
‘I just thought I could make him better. I thought if I loved him enough, everything would be all right.’
‘Kate,’ he said gently, ‘we both love him. And hopefully everything will be all right. But if it’s not, it’s not down to us to fix him.’
‘I know. I realise that now. Actually, I realised it a few years back, thanks to you. But I could never actually say thanks, because I was too busy hating you. And I’m sorry about that, too.’
‘I’m sorry, too. When I realised what had been going on between you and Andy, it all kind of made sense. And I’m not going to lie, I was jealous. I thought if you still felt that way about him, there still wasn’t any hope for me. I behaved like a total plonker.’
Any hope for me? Excitement rose inside me, like the flame that had lifted me and Claude into the sky in that hot-air balloon, back in the spring.
But I hid my elation with sarcasm. ‘Yeah, you did, actually. You always were a bit of a plonker.’
I felt his ribs move as he chuckled. ‘If you’re being shitty to me again, I take it we’re friends?’
I pressed my face against his chest, breathing in the warmth and strength of him. We could be friends again now. We could put everything behind us and move forward, closer and happier. But it wouldn’t be enough.
‘Daniel,’ I said, ‘I don’t want to be your friend.’
‘No?’ He moved away and looked down at me, his grey eyes serious.
‘No. I want to kiss you and rip all your clothes off.’
His eyes glittered. ‘That sounds pretty amicable to me, if I’m honest.’
‘So you’d be amenable to that?’
‘I would. So long as we get to eat that cake afterwards.’
‘And after that, do it all again?’
‘Kate,’ he said, ‘we can do it as many times as you like. We’ve got all the time in the world.’
He took my hand, and we walked the length of the workshop, through one patch of light and then another, until we reached the door to his flat, and then we walked together to his bedroom. I didn’t have to wonder what it would be like, because I already knew. I didn’t have to worry about his feelings, because I knew they matched mine.
All we had to do was make up for lost time – and I was confident we’d be able to.
After all, as he’d said, we had all the time in the world.
* * *
