‘Not in so many words,’ I tell him. ‘But I think he might throw out an ultimatum, to see if that works on me. I’d rather sleep here.’
‘That might be a better plan in summer,’ Ethan says. ‘I can’t feel my arse.’
‘Yeah, I guess we should move,’ I reply – although I really, really don’t want to. ‘I just cannot face going back to Steve’s right now. I’m early, he’ll grill me on where I’ve been, I never know what is the wrong or right thing to say, and I really do not want to talk about tonight. I just want to forget about it.’
‘Look, do you want to come back to my hotel with me?’ he asks. ‘When I say no strings, I really do mean it. It sounds like things are intense, at home, so if you want a night off…’
‘I would love that,’ I tell him quickly, biting his hand off. ‘Thank you.’
We stand up – wow, I really can’t feel my arse – and make our way along the cobbles and under the bridge that leads us on to The Calls. And there it is, his hotel, the same hotel he stayed in last time.
‘They let you back in then,’ I say, referring to what happened the last time we were here together, but without actually mentioning what happened.
‘They must have short memories,’ he says with a smile. ‘No one mentioned it when I booked. But you will be pleased to hear that I not only don’t have a ground-floor room this time, but I’moverlooking the river. I haven’t spent much time in it, beyond checking in, but it didn’t seem like anyone could see in. Weirdly, it felt a bit like being on a cruise.’
I laugh.
‘Well, it doesn’t get much more private than a cruise ship window, does it?’ I reply.
‘Actually, I went on a cheap cruise with my mates, and we had digital windows,’ he tells me. ‘We must have been so low in the ship that we were underwater. So, where a window would usually be, they had this screen with a fake view. Of course, I was sharing a room with my mate Tommo, and you don’t get less private than that.’
I laugh.
‘Let’s just say one night he brought a girl back, and I wanted to jump out of the digital window,’ he tells me, widening his eyes for effect. ‘I ended up sleeping on a sunlounger, on the deck.’
‘I hope you were somewhere warm,’ I reply.
He purses his lips and shakes his head.
‘Right, here we are,’ he says, opening the door for me to step inside.
And suddenly I’m back in time, two years ago, feeling all the same things that I did back then. It’s like muscle memory, walking through the door, passing through reception – my body thinks it’s going to get a repeat of what happened the last time we were here. Body, you need to calm down!
We step into the lift together. I should change the subject, I know I should, but…
‘Do you make a habit of sleeping in places that you shouldn’t?’ I ask him.
I notice him smiling to himself in the mirrored lift wall.
‘Not as often as it would seem,’ he replies. ‘Although Jennifer’s office has to be the weirdest.’
We fall silent for a second again. I open my mouth to speak just as the lift doors ding, so I retreat back into the silence.
We walk along the corridor, finally approaching Ethan’s room. He unlocks the door and then steps aside, for me to head in first.
Oh, wow, what a beautiful room. I don’t know what this old building used to be but there are exposed wooden beams and pieces of old metal machinery that have been artfully preserved to give the place character. I’m like a moth to a flame when it comes to the windows though. I hurry over, trying not to make eye contact with the super-king bed as I pass it, and look outside. It really does feel like being on a boat – just one that is floating through Leeds city centre. I can see Bridgewater Place in one direction, Brewery Wharf in the other. The water below looks so flat and peaceful, with lights reflecting on it. You can tell it’s cold out there just by looking (of course, I already knew that from first-hand – or should that be first-arse – experience), but it’s so cosy in here.
Ethan stands next to me, mirroring my position, with his elbows on the windowsill.
‘It’s even more beautiful now,’ he says.
He turns to face me, his chin resting on his hands.
Every instinct I have right now is either telling me to kiss him or to run out of here and never come back.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asks me.
Should I tell him the truth? No.
