I hope she finds him soon. She deserves love. All of the Unlucky in Love Travel Club do. Including me. But who do I love next? If Miles came back on the scene, would I give him a chance, tell him that village life isn’t actually for me? Somehow, I just don’t see it any more. On the morning of the wedding, I’d been fighting with those same emotions but managed to explain it away as nerves, as jitters. If I’m honest with myself, I can admit I was also second-guessing whether it was the right choice for me. It had felt too late, like I couldn’t back out of it. But had I wanted to? I still find it hard to make sense of it all.
‘You’ll find him soon,’ Princess assures her. ‘What about Hamilton? Do wet towels on the bed bother you?’
‘Hamilton?’ CJ gasps. ‘He’s in a relationship!’
Princess steeples her fingers and gives us a sly grin. ‘But for how long?’
We burst out laughing at her matchmaking attempts. ‘That would be a no. Even if he were an eligible bachelor, he’s too polished, too fussy. I want a man who enjoys getting out into the wild, who is up for athletic pursuits, and he must be a fan of K-Pop. I listen to it all the time and I don’t want a guy who turns down the volume on me, you know?’ It’s such a great metaphor for relationships.
It makes perfect sense to me. CJ’s at the point of her life where she wants a partner to add to her life, not subtract from it. That’s the mindset I should be aiming for.
Someone who doesn’t turn down the volume on me…
22
22 DECEMBER, COPENHAGEN, DENMARK
Once we disembark in Copenhagen, our group splits off into various factions. Princess and Barry are off to Nyhavn harbour for a foodie tour and CJ and Karen to the Hans Christian Andersen Christmas market, named in ode to the Danish storyteller. That leaves me and Jasper, and the mood between us is all kinds of awkward after the dance battle fiasco. There’s a lot of hands in pockets, pavement-kicking, heads-averted action going on. I cannot look at the man without blushing. My own fault.
Who asks for one-to-one dance lessons with the next Magic Mike? That stupido would be me. Lesson learned. Heat rushes me when my mind does return to last night’s shenanigans. Let’s just say, I remember the feel of his body and all its accoutrements a little too well. In my drunken haze, I’d been certain we fit together perfectly, like a jigsaw. Although, from what I remember of the intensity of his gaze, I swear he felt the same. Probably all part of the performance. I see that now.
Almost every red-blooded woman from the train has stopped to compliment him, the jezebels. OK, that’s maybe going too far, but it’s hard not to be leery of these women when they fuss and fawn over him in an overly flirtatious manner. Like how many men do they need? Leave some for the rest of us! It’s not much to ask.
The silence between us unnerves me. ‘So, should we go to the rendezvous spot for the beer tour?’
‘Sure, but before we go,’ he says, gazing directly into my eyes making heat rush to my face, ‘I should apologise. Last night was wild and I really enjoyed it, but perhaps I went too far with the whole dancing thing.’
‘Why do you say that?’ I’m curious if he means his own dance moves or more specifically dancing with me.
He scrubs his face while he dithers. What’s going on here? Jasper is not the dithering sort. ‘I enjoyed it. A little too much. And you’ve made it abundantly clear that you’re in no means ready, and I totally understand that – I mean, who wouldn’t? You’ve just lost your husband, and here’s me sliding up and down your body. I’m sorry, it was disrespectful.’
Oh God, why did he have to paint that picture? Desire floods me, and I cough and clear my throat to appear anything but ruffled when I’m really rather ruffled by him. ‘Disrespectful because of the dead husband thing?’ I just want it to be abundantly clear what I’m dealing with here.
His mouth falls open. ‘Ah – yeah.’
‘Right.’ What does one say to that? Do I want Jasper to slide up and down me? Yes. Should I want that? Not sure. ‘I’m sure my dearly departed is fine with it.’ There. He can stop worrying. ‘He’d want me to be happy.’
He cocks his head. ‘So, you’re saying…?’
I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but part of me wants to encourage Jasper and the other part is screaming in protest because it’s not a good idea. ‘I’m saying I’m not going to worry any more.’ Why can’t I be more like Rox, who would shrug off the past and already have moved on with the next hottie that walked her way? But that’s Rox’s MO – act first, think later. I’ve got to worry and obsess and potentially scare Jasper away, all because I have loyalty to Miles, even though he doesn’t deserve it.
Confusion sparkles in his eyes. ‘Last night you mentioned that it was too soon, is all.’
‘What is?’
‘Moving on.’
‘Ah.’ Drunk me is all over the place! ‘It does feel a little soon. I have a bit of a process with this kind of thing, but if you’re talking about us, specifically, then we were only dancing, right?’
‘Right. We did share a kiss. Twice.’
How could I forget? It’s not even possible. ‘What are you asking, Jasper?’ I’m sending mixed messages and he’s conflicted too, and I’m just too poorly to deal with this today.
He waits a beat. ‘Nothing, nothing.’ His expression clears, as if he’s made up his mind about something. ‘You’re in a fragile place and I respect that.’
‘Yeah, this hangover is a doozy.’
He laughs. ‘OK, let’s forget the official group tour, eh, and go drink some festive beer by ourselves?’
