“You shouldn’t be sorry. I should be sorry. I wasn’t honest with you. A lot of the time, I was pretending. I mean, I was busy, yes, just busy doing the same old stuff.”

I didn’t want Josh sinking into a pit of self-flagellation and regret. It was New Year’s Eve, a time for beginnings, not getting mired down in what wasn’t right with life. “So,” I said brightly, and possibly a little too loudly, because his head snapped up at the sound of my voice. I carried on, “What do you want to do?”

He laughed and I welcomed the sound. “You mean, what are my New Year’s resolutions?”

“Oh, my god, yes! I do. Holy crap. We’ve come full circle.” I let the giggles take hold, and he stopped to face me, smiling.

“I do know I want to do this.” He pulled me towards him for another kiss, this one less Nicholas Sparks and more Fifty Shades of Grey, if you know what I mean. We both dropped our cups, and I let my clutch fall to the sand, so I could run my hands up his back—he had a lovely back. One of my hands entwined in his hair—he had lovely hair too.

Josh’s hands found the slits in my dress and caressed my thighs, his ardour building as he pulled the fabric higher so he could cup my bum with his hands. That was when he discovered I wasn’t wearing any knickers.

“You’re not wearing any …” he said breathlessly. I shook my head “no”, and he leant in closer to take my mouth with his, his lips and tongue meshed against mine. “I need you,” he said, breaking the kiss.

“Here?” He nodded, his eyes alive with wanting. Now, I know this is going to sound super unsexy, but I was not one hundred per cent into the idea of sex on the beach. I mean, there’s all that sand. Josh was already way ahead of me, though. He slipped his jeans down and, in the fastest recorded time ever, slid on a condom. He lifted me so I could wrap my legs around his waist, then he was inside me. I clung to him, his face pressed against my neck. It was fast and passionate and so sexy.

Afterwards, he carefully placed me back on my feet. My legs were a little wobbly and we were both breathing heavily—being joined like that was a bit of a workout. I realised we’d have to deal with the condom and picked up my clutch so I could offer him a tissue.

“Thanks,” he mumbled shyly, then sorted himself out. It’s odd how you can be so close to someone, so intimate with them, and still be shy about the practicalities of sex.

When he had pulled up and fastened his jeans and after I’d smoothed out my dress, we stood facing each other. He lifted a hand to my face and traced my jawline. I tilted my head and his hand cupped my cheek. Our eyes met and he placed a gentle kiss on my lips, then leant his forehead against mine.