Page 60 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

Arthur snorted. ‘If you want me to tally everybody I’ve beenentangledwith since last summer, excluding Camelot, I can give you a pretty good estimate.’ Gwen just watched him, clearly eager. ‘None. Zero. Nil.’

‘What?’ Gwen looked genuinely shocked. ‘Then … where did all those stories come from?’

‘I am a very effective wingman for one Sidney Fitzgilbert,’ Arthur said, with genuine pride. ‘I’m usually on distraction duty while he’s wooing some … I don’t know, some innkeeper’s daughter or married minor lady.’

‘And before that?’

‘Ah,’ Arthur said. He had done a relatively good job of not talking about this – barely eventhinkingabout it unless he was in exceedingly low spirits and it managed to sneak around his defences – and it seemed a shame to break his record now. ‘I was … courting someone. In secret, obviously. Up until last summer. His name was Gawain –don’tlaugh – and he was the son of one of my father’s friends. He never quite came to terms with himself, or with the idea ofus, so it was all very dramatic. Pyramus and Thisbe, mulberry trees, that sort of thing. Anyway. That’s all over now, and he’s disappeared off somewhere – Normandy, I think – to ruminate on his sins.’

It almost opened the floodgates – Gawain’s smile, Gawain’s blond curls, Gawain kissing him with spiced wine on his tongue at a Christmas feast and then throwing him out into the snow ten minutes later when they were almost discovered – and Arthur had to push back very firmly to retain control of his senses. It had been a full year now, but Arthur supposed some hurts ran so deep that they became part of your foundations; he had been relentlessly optimistic about his doomed romance until it had lived up to its name and imploded spectacularly one June afternoon, leaving Arthur stranded twenty miles from home as Gawain rode away on his horse, and he still cringed whenever he thought about it now. How foolish it had been to get attached tosomebody who wasn’t even particularly nice to him; how idiotic he must have looked to Sidney, the only person who knew, every time he returned from a clandestine rendezvous, going on as if he and Gawain were the romance of the century.

‘God,’ said Gwen. ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea.’

‘Well, of course you didn’t. I’m an expert at subterfuge,’ Arthur said, giving her a grim smile. ‘I’m a dreadful romantic, I’m afraid. Sidney gives me hell for it.’

‘I’m really … not. I think that’s why I’m feeling so … overwhelmed.’

‘You should just fall in love with me,’ Arthur said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. ‘I couldn’t love you back, but I might grow fond of you. I am partial to being adored.’

‘What an attractive proposition.’

‘Well, it could be considered a plus to be attracted to your fiancé. I wouldn’t know, of course, because everything in my life is completely backwards, but I hear it helps.’

Gwen tilted her head and studied him, as if willing herself to feel something for him. ‘It’s no good. You’re a swaggering idiot, and you think far too much of yourself.’

‘Ouch,’ Arthur said. ‘I’ll have you know that I have extremely broad appeal. I’m easy on the eyes, I’mveryfunny – plus, I’m a fantastic kisser. If you’d kissed me, you’d be singing a different tune.’

‘That’s not a tune,’ Gwen said. ‘That’s the sound of retching.’

‘You can’t knock it until you’ve tried it.’ He was just goading her, but as soon as he said it he noticed a slight shift in her expression, which was … interesting.

‘Shut up. I’m not going to kiss you,’ Gwen said, but she had gone a little bit pink in the cheeks, and as Arthur laughed she wet her bottom lip with her tongue.

‘It’s not a big deal, Gwendoline. People kiss each other all the time. I’ve kissed Sidney.’

‘You have? How was it?’

Arthur considered. ‘Very damp,’ he said. ‘Although admittedly, we were in the River Tamyse at the time.’

‘Of course you were,’ Gwen said. She shifted uncomfortably, putting down her cup. ‘I mean. I haven’t kissed anybody before. I don’t know how you do it. And I suppose thereismerit in – practice.’

Arthur could see that she was suddenly very tense, although whether she was clamming up with nerves or girding her loins, he couldn’t quite tell. ‘Well. That’s the most erotic speech I’ve ever heard.’

Gwen was suddenly very close to his face. ‘Shut up.’

He did. Having made it this far she seemed reluctant to go any further, so Arthur rolled his eyes and grabbed her by the back of the head, pressing a kiss to her closed lips. Instinct took over as she opened her mouth; he leaned in, deepening the kiss, his hand slipping through her lightly perfumed hair. She tasted like sweet tea and lemons. It was perfectly pleasant, kissing her, but in the manner of a satisfying stretch or eating a well-baked bread roll. In other words – not quite earth-shattering.

Arthur pulled away first. ‘Well?’

Gwen bit her lip and then shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

‘No. Me neither,’ Arthur said. ‘Shame.’

‘How was I?’ Gwen said, trying and failing to soundcasual. ‘At kissing, I mean.’

‘You’re a natural,’ Arthur said, patting her arm. ‘If only you had a beard, I’d have been swooning.’

‘I’ll work on it.’ Gwen climbed to her feet, placing her cup on top of the dresser. ‘I should go to bed.’