Page 35 of The Best Ex of My Life

After I take one more sip.

He passes the bottle back to me, and I pass it back to him and before I know it, we’ve drank so much the bottle is more than half empty.

‘How much do you need for your recipe?’ he asks.

I check my laptop, slightly worried by how blurry the letters on my screen have become.

‘Shit, Elliot. Why’ve you drank so much? Now there won’t be enough for Paul Hollywood’s cream.’

‘Me? I took a few dainty sips. You were the one swigging it back like a sailor.’

‘I don’t think sailors drink sherry,’ I point out. ‘What am I going to do?’

‘It’s fine,’ he tells me. ‘I’m sure you can put something else in. What other booze have you got?’

‘Four bottles of wine and a crate of Corona.’

‘OK. Good. Beer cream it is, then.’

There’s a slight pause until he starts to laugh, and I start laughing too. Before we know it, we’ve descended to stomach clutching, slightly hysterical giggling that feels like it’s no longer about what set us off, and everything feels untethered, like the stress of the three-course meal I’ve still got to make doesn’t matter anymore, like the success of tonight isn’t all on my shoulders, and I can relax a little, the strange atmosphere between us eradicated by all the sherry.

‘What’s this?’

We both turn to see Jordan standing in the doorway. He’s smiling at us, but there’s also a puzzled look in his eyes. Elliot and I both turn to him and straighten up.

‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘I was just getting more drinks.’ The slight slur in my voice betrays me.

‘I’ll take this if you don’t need it,’ Elliot says, reaching for a bottle of beer and taking the chance to slide past Jordan back into the lounge, his face a few shades pinker than when he left it.

Jordan watches him leave, the puzzled look still there. ‘You and Elliot seem—’ he pauses, trying to reach for the right word.

‘What?’

He shrugs. ‘Closer than I thought. You made it sound like you were just work mates, like that whole thing with helping him with his interview was just one colleague helping another out. I don’t know. Tonight, it seems more than that.’

I walk – sway – towards him and pull him towards me. ‘We are just work mates. And you, Mr, are very, very sexy looking so hot and getting on with my friends so well.’

He laughs, and his shoulders drop as he puts his hands around my waist. ‘Bloody hell, Lizzie. I thought you were getting a round of drinks for everyone, not drinking them all yourself.’

‘I know. I might have had a few sips as I went along.’

He laughs. ‘You don’t say. Your breath is pure sherry. You smell like my nan.’

‘Sorry,’ I mutter.

‘No, it’s lovely.’

Now I’m the one cracking up. ‘You do realise there’s quite a lot to unpack in that statement, don’t you?’

He nods solemnly. ‘I do. But can we do that later? Right now, I’d like to kiss you for the first time all night.’

He pulls me in closer and I lean up to him, knowing our rhythm now. He strokes my cheek lightly with the back of his finger, looks into my eyes, biting his lip slightly before leaning down to meet his lips with mine. As always, we start slow, our closed lips pressed against each other’s before he parts mine with his tongue, and we begin to melt into each other.

His hand has just moved from my waist and up my back, so he can press me against him tighter when the door swings open again.

‘Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean—’

I turn to find Elliot standing frozen in the doorway and pull apart from Jordan.