The gray morning light draped itself across the slow-breathing mound beneath the black-and-white-striped duvet cover in the bed. Annie rubbed her sore neck and tried to sigh quietly. The thing about having puckered up with the same person for half your life is that you know instinctively what type of kiss you’re getting into: which way they’re going to lean, for example, or the ratio of lip to tongue action; your methods are tried and tested. By contrast, locking lips with someone new, while exciting, was not without its hazards.

The portents were there from the very beginning, when they both tilted their heads in the same direction, banging noses so hard that it brought tears to Annie’s eyes. On the second attempt, Paul thrust his tongue so deep into Annie’s mouth the moment that their lips met that she actually squeaked with surprise and bit it. Keeping faith in the old third time lucky adage, they went for it again, with gusto, to try and kickstart the nonexistent pizzazz, which resulted in their teeth cracking together so violently that the crown on Paul’s front tooth snapped off, and Annie almost swallowed it. She had expected to fizz with passion in all the right places when their lips met, but to her disappointment nothing stirred; it was, she mused, a bit like kissing her own knee.

They eventually gave up and took their frustrations out on the pool table, which was undeniably fun but left Annie’s full-body wax sadly surplus to requirements.

The mound in the bed snorted and stretched.

“Are you awake?” Paul asked.

“Yes,” said Annie.

Paul shifted. The light from his phone cast a beam across the ceiling.

“What time is it?” asked Annie.

“Seven fifteen,” said Paul. “Do you want some coffee?”

“No, thanks,” said Annie.

Silence blanketed the room. Annie wanted to get back to Saltwater Nook. She wanted to have a shower and brush her teeth.

“I’m going to go,” said Annie. “I’m stiff as a board.”

“Pity I can’t say the same,” said Paul. The gap where his crown ought to be whistled on his Ss.

Annie laughed.

“You should have taken the bed,” he said, as Annie made groaning sounds reaching for her boots.

“I don’t mind,” she said, wishing she had.

“I can drive you,” said Paul.

“I’d like to walk,” said Annie.

“Probably just as well, I’d better get to the emergency dentist.”

Annie pulled a sympathetic face. “Does it hurt?”

“Not as much as my pride.” Paul chuckled. “I’m sorry about last night. I don’t understand it, it was like . . .” he trailed off.

“The oomph was absent?” Annie offered.

“Exactly!” said Paul. “We should have been great.”

“We should have,” said Annie.

“It wasn’t you,” said Paul. “I think you’re amazing, you’re sexy and funny . . .”