Page 91 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

‘No rush,’ I hear him murmur dryly as I close the door to the bathroom.

I stand with my forehead pressed against it for a moment. Did that really just happen?

By the time I emerge, dressed in black wool trousers and a thick, cream jumper, Nico seems to have got his situation under control because he’s out of bed and rooting around in the closet.

‘Magda has some walking boots out by the front door,’ he says over his shoulder. ‘With a pair of thick socks, they should work. There’s a bit of a climb up to the lookout. It’s not far, but it’ll be tricky in your stilettos.’

‘Thanks,’ I manage, slipping out the room as fast as humanly possible.

‘There you are,’ Phoebe grumbles, while Taco dances excitedly around her feet. ‘This was your idea, remember.’

‘I know, I know,’ I agree, flustered. ‘But you only just beat the alarm on my phone so…’

Phoebe digs out Magda’s boots from the pile by the door, and I pull them on. They’re a tiny bit big, but they’ll do.

‘Okay.’ Nico comes blasting out the bedroom, dressed in the sort of thick grey woollen jumper that has me writing fisherman fantasies in my head featuring storms outside the window of a small stone cottage and a fire crackling in the hearth as we slowly remove our – oh no! – soaking wet clothes.

His dark curls are dishevelled, the stubble along his jaw could almost be called a beard at this point and a green canvas backpack is thrown over one shoulder. He stalks through to the kitchen, setting a flask under the coffee machine and pressing buttons, before grabbing cereal bars and bottled water and throwing them into his bag. This level of efficiency is really doing it for me.

He screws the lid on the flask. ‘Let’s get going, we don’t want to miss it.’

We pile into the truck and a fifteen-minute drive later we’re winding up the steep side of one of the hills that flanks the town. At the top of the road, there’s a small car park, and we’re the only ones there.

Phoebe and Taco lead the way, already familiar with this route, and Nico and I linger behind. The gloom is lifting, and the world is draped in an unpromising grey as we follow the dusty footpath, carved between lumbering rocks and scrubby undergrowth. So far Nico and I have not said one single word to each other, and I’m busy trying to convince myself that it’s because we’ve fallen into a companionable silence, rather than because we’re both feeling awkward about what happened in his bed.

I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other as the path grows steeper, and when I stumble over an exposed root, Nico’s hand is instantly there, in the small of my back, steadying me. The brief moment of contact has me sucking in a sharp breath, and he pulls away at once.

After a couple of minutes, we round a corner, and the world drops away almost underneath our feet, the view suddenly opening up, a wide and dazzling panorama.

‘Oh!’ I exclaim, unable to come up with anything more eloquent.

‘Just wait,’ Nico murmurs, his face turned towards the scene below: the rolling blanket of trees gilded with gold and amber, tumbling down towards the sea, Roseport laid out like a toy town in the middle of it all. He squints out at the horizon where the first, sleepy light of the day gathers, smouldering like embers in a grate.

‘I saved you a seat,’ Phoebe calls, patting the space beside her on the simple stone bench where she sits, Taco at her feet.

I drop down beside her, burrowing further into my coat as the wind whips around us.

‘Chocolate milk for you,’ Nico says, holding out a carton to Phoebe, who happily accepts.

‘And coffee for you.’ He pulls out the flask and pours me a cup, strong and dark in an enamel mug. I cradle it in my hands enjoying the warmth, trying to take in every detail of the scene in front of me. Minute by minute, the light is intensifying, streaks of pink and orange paint the sky, and it’s so beautiful it doesn’t look real.

Nico still hasn’t sat down, and he roots around in his rucksack a moment before he pulls out what is undeniably a camera case.

I freeze, whipping my gaze forward again, determined not to make a big deal of this.

Aside from a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment of hesitation, there’s nothing about Nico to justify my concern. He handles the camera easily, moving quietly around, the only sound the rapid click of the shutter.

As the minutes pass, and the light pours over us like water, Nico’s posture relaxes more and more. He climbs up onto a rock at the edge of the drop, his step sure and steady as he pauses to adjust some of the settings on his camera.

‘Are you going to take one of us?’ Phoebe calls after a few minutes, seemingly unaware of or unbothered by the significance of this moment.

‘I am.’ Nico jumps down, while Phoebe gets to her feet, encouraging Taco to pose in front of the view. The two of them look so cute together, and I see Nico smile from behind his lens.

I lean forward, my elbow on my knee, my chin resting in my hand as I look at them, the three of them together. I watch while Nico calls out instructions, and Taco jumps up to lick Phoebe’s face, while she giggles, and the whole world unfurls glowing and beautiful below them, and I feel for a moment like my heart is going to burst.

That’s the instant that Nico captures with his camera, the instant before I draw back, embarrassed that he’s turned the focus on me.

‘Come and stand with us, Lee,’ Phoebe demands. ‘I bet you can get Taco to sit properly.’