The bald question surprises me, and for a second I fumble with an answer. “Because we know we’re good in bed together.” I pause. “We’re actually epic in bed.” He smiles slowly with heat in his eyes, and I shake my head. “But if we’re trying this, I don’t want to get waylaid by that. Because otherwise that’s all we’ll ever be.” I look at him nervously. “What do you think?”

He’s silent for a long second, his eyes examining my face as if he’s thinking of picking me out in a line-up. Then he smiles. “I agree.”

I sag. “You do?”

He nods. “I want to get to know you, not just your arsehole.”

There’s a horrified gasp behind him and he sighs and closes his eyes.

I laugh and grab his arm. “We’d better go inside, Zeb,” I say in a loud voice. “You really need to learn some discretion.”

I usher him into the bookshop, inhaling the scent of the books greedily and looking for the wall of globes which has always fascinated me. When I look at him, he’s doing the same thing. When he meets my eyes, we smile at each other in perfect accord.

“Okay,” I say. “We’re going to split up to make our choices. We’ll meet when we’ve chosen and discuss our books.”

“You’re so bossy,” he murmurs.

I wink at him. “And you like it.”

“Only in the way I like it when the tap stops dripping.”

I shake my head but can’t stop my laugh. It’s far too loud and a few people turn to look at us “Go on,” I say, pushing him gently. “You’re a bad influence on me.”

He grins, and I watch as he moves away. I can’t take my eyes off him, normally, but there’s something extra about him today. I study him as he moves to a shelf, running one long finger along the spines of the books, and I suddenly realise what it is. He’s open and welcoming. Usually, he’s sardonic and closed off, but today all that has softened. His face is alive and engaged as he pulls a book down and leans against the shelf to flick though it.

Something in me twists because this man has the capacity to really hurt me. The pain I felt when he binned me was just an early warning sign. There have been other warnings too. The way he closes himself down like a hedgehog at the first sign of trouble, the fact that he seems to think he’s an OAP, and his conviction that I’m too young for him. However, I’ve casually blitzed through all of these warning markers.