‘I dropped you home, went back to Justin’s, barely got into my room. Just about got my jeans open…’ He shrugged. ‘Every time I think about you, I go hard. And the problem is I can’t stop thinking about you. I haven’t been like this since I was fourteen. I’m sore from it.’ He hesitated. ‘Does that make me pathetic? Disgusting? I told you, the past, the present, it’s all mixed up. I’m a mess.’

Oh.

Hearing that he’d spent the last few days as affected as I’d been filled me with joy. But the implication that he only fancied me because his emotions were all over the place?

I was disappointed. Far too disappointed.

It was a reality check though, one I should be grateful for.

‘Me too,’ I managed. ‘A mess, like.’

*

Sometime in the pre-dawn, drowsy and heavy, we woke, our limbs intertwined. With one slick move, he was inside me, and my body was already in flames even while I was still marvelling, Oh my God, it’s Luke.

Afterwards we lay in bottomless silence, my head on his chest, his arms hard and tight around me. In my soul and in my body was a deep peace. Here, in this bed with him, even the loss of Yara was lighter.

Outside, the chirping of the first birds began and light was creeping under the curtains.

‘Are you okay?’ Luke spoke into the room.

I shifted, in order to see his face. ‘Better than okay. I’m really grateful to…the universe? Well, whoever’s in charge, for this.’

‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘How’s your sleep these days?’ But there was compassion in his voice, not judgement.

‘Still my weak point, the first thing to go when I’m upset. I’ll never be one of those lucky people who’re out like a light the moment their head hits the pillow. But I’m okay most of the time.’

After a while, I sent him downstairs for water. ‘In the fridge,’ I said. ‘Bring up a bottle. Mind Crunchie doesn’t lick you to death.’

Even though we were alone in the house he pulled on his jeans. He’d always been an odd mix of raunchy and modest.

While he was gone, I had to tell myself over and over again, This is real. This is real. This is real. Luke was genuinely here and it was as if those years apart had never happened. But for a few strange seconds, I decided to terrify myself with thoughts that I’d imagined everything, that I was all alone—and oh! He was back, carrying a green bottle. Bare-chested, his hair a disordered tangle, he stood at the foot of the bed, watching me thoughtfully as, idly, he rolled the bottle back and forth across his torso.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Never not gorgeous, are you?’ Then, ‘Just…so I’ll remember.’