Page 51 of If We Were Young

The man in question began to turn and walk away.

“Sod off, Fred.”

He grinned and backed away, his cardboard coffee cup balanced in his hands. “Clubbing this weekend? It’s not really a club, more a bar.”

“Leave now, or you’re sacked.” I meant it.

“Going, going.” He skipped off and darted across the road to the office.

“Wait, please.” I chased after Matthew. He hadn’t got far, but I wasn’t built for speed.

“Sorry.”

I flinched at his gaze.

“It was a stupid idea.”

“No, no. I love stupid ideas. They are my favourite, I promise.”

He’d stopped, but he looked torn between leaving and staying.

“What time is your train?”

“Soon.”

“You came all this way for a coffee before catching a train?”

“I said it was a stupid idea.”

“The morning isn’t complete without a cappuccino.”

“You hate coffee.” His lips loosened into the start of a smile.

“Aha! No, well, actually yes, but then I had a child and realised coffee is essential to existence.”

A definite smile flickered his mouth.

“And you don’t have to go somewhere with Fred? Do your staff always kiss you good morning?” A shadow chased across his face.

“No! I don’t encourage it.” I started to laugh, and his shoulders dropped.

“That’s good to know.” He motioned for the coffee shop and guided me forward. I held in my breath like a lock of emergency air as his hand grazed the base of my spine, pressing into a place I was sure his large hand was made to fit. “I haven’t got long.”

“Okay.”

He’d come all this way. Kingston was miles from Euston and the train to Scotland. It had to be for something. A kindle of hope bloomed in my chest; not hope for romance or anything of that sort. I wouldn’t be a fool again, but I’d grasp at the slightest chance of friendship.

I craved it. Like I needed ice-cream, wine, and chips.

“Thanks for the lift home last night.” I flushed. Drunk Ronnie wasn’t a great sight. My small size left me with limited capacity for alcoholic beverages. Something Natalie didn’t understand because she was five foot nine and had the metabolism of a mountain lion.

“I’m glad we talked.” He nodded, his gaze distant.

“I’m still mad you thought I did that.”

He shrugged. “Irrational, maybe. Guess the pressure of uni ending frayed my nerves.”

“It seems so long ago now.”