‘And you wanted to see me as friends,’ I added. ‘Right? You wanted to see me as a friend? This is a friendly drink?’

‘We’re drinking, we’re friends,’ he stepped closer and picked a stray petal from my shoulder. ‘I suppose that makes it a friendly drink.’

‘Good, that sounds good,’ I said, more to myself than to him. ‘Because it really has been a long time and I don’t know what’s been going on with you, what you’ve been up to or where you’ve been or …’

Patrick came closer until we were face to face. He raised his hand, thumb tracing the line of my jaw as he curled his hand around the back of my neck, his fingers weaving their way into my damp hair.

‘I really have missed you,’ he said, his voice a low rumble. ‘Have I said that already?’

My bottom lip trembled as I opened my mouth to respond.

‘I think you have, yes.’

‘And do you think you might have missed me?’

I answered with a nod, not quite able to raise my eyes to meet his.

‘Ros,’ he whispered.

‘Yep?’

‘Can I kiss you?’

He moved closer until we were millimetres apart, his breath prickling my lips, his features fuzzy against the burning orange sunset. My heart pounded, my legs felt deeply unreliable and there was nothing to hold onto but Patrick himself.

‘I would like to go on record as saying this probably isn’t a very good idea,’ I murmured before leaning in, unable to wait a single second longer. ‘But yes, go on then.’

I touched my lips to his, melting as he tightened his grip on the back of my neck. My mouth opened to him and the rest of my body was dying to follow suit. It was overpowering, new desire mixed with old memories, knowing how incredible it would be rushing at me, layered with the heady excitement of anticipation.

My first time with Patrick, all over again. People had killed for less.

‘This is a bad idea,’ I said, already completely out of breath as I tore myself away.

‘Terrible idea.’ His voice was equally as ragged, his fingers firmly circled around my wrist tethering me to him. ‘But …’ he paused and swallowed hard. ‘I want you.’

A familiar warmth pooled in my stomach and I knew it was too late to turn back. Any remaining traces of self-preservation or commonsense was utterly consumed by just how much I wanted him too.

I took a deep breath and held out my hand.

‘Then what are we waiting for?’ I asked.

CHAPTER TEN

Exactly thirty-eight minutes later, I collapsed on Patrick’s floor in a tangle of arms and legs, discarded clothes and condom wrappers.

‘I have to admit,’ I panted, staring up at the ceiling and searching for patterns in the plaster swirls. ‘This is not how I’d expected today to end.’