I smile, taking his hand.
‘Yes.’
And for the first time all night, I really, really mean it.
3
The night air is crisp, maybe a bit too crisp for my liking as I lean against the wall in one of the tunnels under the bridge by the train station. It’s late, but the road is still busy with cars, and the pavement is still busy with people walking past us.
I’m leaning to steady myself because, after a night of saying yes to every drink I was offered, I’m feeling a little unsteady on my feet.
I’m the nice kind of drunk though, where everything’s just a little bit funnier and the world just looks and feels softer. Life’s all right sometimes, isn’t it?
The lights overhead cast a warm glow on the wet pavement, and while I know that I’m cold, I don’t seem to be feeling it in the same way I would if I were sober.
Ethan’s standing next to me, leaning against the wall like a cool guy, smiling contentedly.
Tonight has genuinely been nothing short of amazing – I can’t stop smiling either. The only thing that is missing is a soundtrack, for me to pretend I’m in a quirky, romantic indie movie.
‘Well, thanks for an awesome Valentine’s Day, Lana,’ he says, his voice loaded with that warm, easy charm that seems to come naturally to him. ‘You saved me from a night of solo activities… so to speak.’
I giggle, a sound I would usually hate coming from my own mouth, but tonight it feels just right.
‘Thank you for making mine so… different,’ I say.
‘Different isn’t always good,’ he replies, his tone teasing but with a hint of something deeper.
I tilt my head, meeting his gaze, and wait for a second for the world to stop spinning.
‘That’s true, but this time, it is.’
All at once, it feels like the entire world fades away. The noise of the city disappears, the lights blur into the background, and it’s just us, locked in this perfect moment. I don’t want it to end.
Then, suddenly, it’s like everything clicks into place. Ethan leans in, closing the distance between us, and my heart feels like it’s going to beat its way through my chest. When our lips meet, it’s electric – literally, it’s almost like he gives me a static shock that shoots through every nerve in my body. I’ve never felt anything like it before. I’m kissing him back before I even realise it, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper, needing more.
I lock my arms around his neck as he cups my arse in his hands, steadying me as the world spins just a little faster. We’re completely lost in each other, like nothing else matters.
Well, apart from breathing, I guess. As Ethan pulls back to take a breath, I have to physically stop myself from chasing his lips. My tongue tingles, still craving his touch, as I catch my breath.
‘Before I ask you this,’ Ethan says, his voice soft and serious, ‘I just want to make it clear that you no longer have to say yes to everything.’
He pauses, biting his lip in a way that makes me want to throw all caution to the wind.
‘I’m staying at a hotel, just along The Calls. Do you want to come back with me?’
The question hangs in the air between us, and for a moment, my mind races. I do. Here it is, the moment where I have to decide if I’m going to be the girl who says yes to everything, or if I’m going to do something different for once. Because, yes, I really, really want to go back to his hotel with him – of course I do, he’s the hottest man I’ve ever met. But at the same time, I can’t shake this feeling that Ethan isn’t just another hot guy, maybe he could be something more, and maybe rushing things would be a mistake. This doesn’t feel like just another one-night stand, and that scares me as much as it excites me. Maybe this time, I should do the thing I never do – take it slow.
My lips part, ready to say something, anything, but the words get stuck somewhere between my brain and my mouth. Thankfully, Ethan seems to get the message.
‘Can I walk you home instead?’ he offers, his voice gentle and understanding.
‘I live in Headingley,’ I tell him, feeling a pang of regret already. ‘I’ll have to get a taxi.’
I know I should say something to let him know I’m not turning him down because I’m not interested (because I am, I really am), but before I can figure out how to phrase that, my phone buzzes in my bag. I pull it out and see my dad’s name on the screen.
‘Oh, God, it’s my dad,’ I say, half laughing, half worried. ‘I’d better answer. It’s late; it could be an emergency.’
I hit the answer button, and my dad’s voice comes through, clear as day.
