‘I went to a bar tonight where I know I can always pull a girl,’ Max said diffidently and her heart plummeted. Had he come round simply to tell her they could be friends after all? ‘I met a nineteen-year-old model from Texas called Karis; blonde, blue-eyed, legs up to here,’ Max gestured to his chest. ‘Pulled down her jeans to show me the butterfly tattoo on her arse. It was the easiest thing in the world to go to her place in Notting Hill to have sex with her and get you out of my system.’
‘Oh.’ She traced patterns on the stone step with her fingertip as she felt her world crumble into tiny pieces that could never be put back together again. ‘So did your scheme work, then?’
‘I don’t know,’ Max said. ‘I didn’t even make it as far as the Westway before I realised that I didn’t want you out of my system. I like having you in my system.’
Neve hardly dared hope until Max’s hand cupped her chin and turned her face towards him. ‘Why did you sack your therapist?’ she asked.
Max grinned a little shakily because neither of them were in a place where they could start throwing around carefree smiles. Not yet. ‘Because she was crap,’ he said. ‘I’m used to her telling me I’m not capable of being in love because of my intimacy issues that stem from my relationship with my mother, but I wasn’t going to let her talk shit about you.’
‘What did she say about me?’
‘That you have an unresolved Electra complex,’ Max revealed, as Neve hissed in sheer outrage. ‘To be honest, I’m not even sure what that is, but she also said you were emotionally retarded and you’re not. You’re the kindest, most empathetic person I know, and she’s a woman whose most meaningful interaction is with her cat. I should never have taken advice from a cat person. I mean, what do they know?’
‘I’m going to have her struck off!’ Neve vowed, clenching her fists angrily. ‘She’s got no right to say stuff …’ She stopped because Max was giving her an exasperated look. ‘So … are you and me OK now, then?’
‘I think we’re getting there.’ They were leaning into each other now, heads bent and almost touching. ‘Look, full disclosure, I wouldn’t be happy if you were a size thirty-two again, but I’d rather have you that size than not have you at all. Don’t you get it, Neevy? What you look like is just one part of who you are – but it’s not all you are.’
‘I know.’ She covered Max’s hand with her own and hoped that she’d never have to let go. ‘You have to believe me, I know that now.’
‘And you should know I have zero tolerance for that fucking stupid Cleanse or any other fad diet you were considering, but I’ll go running with you, unless it’s raining, and I won’t force you to eat carbs after six.’ Max brushed his cheek against hers. ‘How does that sound?’
Then Max pulled away so he could look at her and Neve was sure that she didn’t have to say anything because her answer was written all over her face.
‘It sounds good,’ she whispered. ‘So, do you?’
‘Well, do you?’
Neve pouted. ‘I asked first.’
‘Of course I do,’ Max said firmly, and his hand wasn’t on her chin any more. His thumb was brushing along the scratch on her cheek from Charlotte’s engagement ring. ‘Not as your friend. And not like we were before because I realised something else tonight. Something about pancakes.’
‘What about them?’ This was one of the most meaningful moments of her entire life; it felt as if her entire future hung in the balance, but at the mention of pancakes, all Neve could think about was how hungry she was. It wasn’t very romantic.
‘We both got so obsessed about that first pancake being thrown away that we forgot something really important,’ Max explained, and he looked incredibly pleased with himself. ‘That first pancake tastes just as good as all the other ones. It’s not its fault that it was first in line and the pan wasn’t hot enough so it got a bit lumpy and misshapen.’
‘And when you’re really famished that first pancake tastes better than all the ones that come after it,’ Neve said, and then she couldn’t wait any longer. Her arms were around Max before she’d even finished forming the thought, but his arms were around her too in that exact same moment.
Just having him there to hold, warm and solid and real, was enough for five seconds, and then she was peppering his face with kisses – his forehead, his eyebrows, the tip of his crooked nose, along his cheekbones until she reached the glittering prize of his mouth.
Sometimes Neve thought that her appetite was the most robust thing about her, and she didn’t kiss Max so much as she devoured him. Graceless, messy kisses without any thought or reason, but simply because she hungered for him. Kissed him with everything she had and everything she was, and she didn’t know why she could kiss Max and have him kiss her back with the same fierceness but still be greedy for the next kiss and the one after that and the one after that and the one …
‘Stop,’ Max said, laughing as he pulled back, because Keith had invaded the gap between them and was trying to get in on the kissing by licking whoever’s face was closest. ‘We don’t need to do this on your doorstep. I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Promise you won’t. Not ever again. I hate it when you’re not here,’ Neve said as she tried to shoulder Keith out of the way. ‘Come inside.’
‘Where were you going at nearly three in the morning, anyway?’ Max asked, standing up and holding out his hand, so he could tug Neve up too.
She flushed a little. ‘Well, I was going to the all-night shop on Seven Sisters Road to get some food because I haven’t eaten in weeks,’ she admitted, and she didn’t want to ruin this before it had even started again, the same way she’d ruined it last time. ‘This is just a one-off. I’m done with detox cleansing, I swear, but I’m also done with eating crap at weird hours because we can’t get out of bed. Except for right now, because I am seriously contemplating cutting off my own hand and lightly sautée-ing my fingers in extra-virgin olive oil.’
Max stood poised on the step above her, brow furrowed as if he was trying to reach a decision about something. Probably that he didn’t want to be with her enough to deal with her dietary restrictions any more. ‘OK, then. If that’s the way you want it,’ he said, as if he was done deciding. He jumped down the steps, picked up Keith’s lead and headed for the gate, while Neve stood there watching in disbelief.
It didn’t hurt any less having your heart broken for the second time. In fact, it hurt more, and …
‘You coming, or what?’ Max called, already walking down the street. ‘We’d better get a move on or they might have sold out of that disgusting bread that’s all seeds and nothing else.’
With a hand clutched to her heart, which had had more than enough shocks in the last twenty-four hours, Neve hurried after Max and Keith.
‘You’re such a drama queen,’ Max complained when she caught up with him. ‘No one could be that hungry unless they’d survived a plane crash and been stranded on a desolate mountain-top for days and the only thing standing between them and death was gnawing on one of their dead travelling companions.’
Neve punched him on the arm. ‘Are you joking? If the shop turns out to be closed after all, I expect you to sacrifice a couple of fingers for the cause,’ she said, as she slipped her hand into his.
Inhoudsopgave
Part One: Wishin’ And Hopin’
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Part Two: Little By Little
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Part Three: Some Of Your Lovin’
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Part Four: I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Part Five: I Close My Eyes And Count To Ten
Chapter Forty-two
Sarra Manning, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me
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