Sean avoids my gaze; another sign that this can’t lead to anything good for either of us.
“I told you the other night.”
He did tell me, but I need confirmation. I’m in his house, sitting on his sofa, less than a metre from him. And I’m starting to feel an incessant need to close the gap between us, to see whether the scent of him is the way I remember it.
“I’m not seeing anyone.” He looks at me. “Except you.”
I should tell him we’re not seeing each other. I should tell him that this whole thing is just pretend – that it could be nothing more. I should stop this ridiculous thought growing between us. But when I open my mouth, the only thing that comes out, except the breath I’ve been holding, is a dangerous: “Good to know.”
* * *
IOPENMY EYES as the street begins to wake up beneath us. I get to my feet and rub my eyes, pulling the blanket we shared last night over Sean.
We fell asleep on the sofa while we were chatting. I’d let my head fall against the backrest, and he’d done the same. We’d stared to each other into the semi-darkness of the living room, illuminated by the lamp beside his bookcase. We smiled a lot, maybe too much, our hands brushing against each other more than once.
Sean was the first to fall asleep. He suddenly realised how exhausted he was. I fought sleep a little longer. I wanted to watch him resting, study the shapes of his face, the almost-imperceptible movements of his expression. I wanted to listen to his relaxed breathing, wondering whether it was more damaging or ridiculous to hope that last night meant something more than either of us had expected, but were maybe both willing to risk.
I wander over to the window to look outside. The morning traffic is as grey and noisy as ever, the dark sky above us threatening the beginnings of another cold day – as always, at this time of year.
I head towards the kitchen and grab the kettle, filling it with water before putting it back onto its stand and switching it on. I grab the coffee from the counter and pull out two mugs; but when I open the fridge to get the milk, a sound at the door makes me spin around. Sean must have heard it, too, because he immediately lifts his head from the sofa and stares at me.
“Did you hear that?”
I nod at the exact moment another sound puts us both on edge.
Sean gets up and moves quickly over to the door. I stay standing behind him; when he opens it, a girl who had been huddled against the wood falls into the room.
“Mila… Oh, my God…”
I rush over to help, and we both pull her to her feet.
“I fell asleep in the hallway,” she says, making us both sigh with relief.
“You gave me such a fright,” Sean says, holding her close. “What happened? Where did you go? How long have you been outside for?”
“I don’t know, I can’t remember.” Sean lets her go and his sister yawns sleepily. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“God, Mila!” Sean wraps his arms around her again. “Never do anything like that again, do you hear me?”
Sean’s sister shifts her gaze over his shoulder and finally notices me.
“Who’s he?”
Sean moves away from her and looks at me.
“Oh, he’s… Er… Eric.”
“Eric,” she repeats, raising an eyebrow. “And why is Eric here?” she asks then, turning back to her brother.
“Don’t try to change the subject like you always do. I want to know everything.”
Mila sighs, then shrugs. “I just needed to get away.”
“Is it because of Ethan?”
She doesn’t answer, and Sean is alarmed.
“Did he do something?” Sean asks anxiously.
