I put all thoughts of tomorrow – and Oscar – out of my head.

Jason returned to his seat and placed two tequila shots on the table.

I pushed mine away. ‘I’ve never been good with tequila,’ I said.

‘Remember that cheap stuff they used to serve at the campus bar?’ He smiled. His brow was slightly sweaty as he downed his shot followed by mine.

Then I can’t even remember what we were talking about because my mind was too focused on how badly I wanted to kiss him. The alcohol was making me feel reckless. As if reading my mind, he put his hand back on my leg, only this time he squeezed harder, and then he slowly walked his fingers up my thigh. I didn’t want him to stop, but something made me put my hand on his, to slow him down as much as anything.

‘You okay?’ he asked, turning to me, his eyes glassy.

‘Yes, fine,’ I answered, my insides full of excited butterflies.

How could I say that it felt amazing, that I was fantasizing about what I’d like him to do with me in the corner of a busy pub on a Thursday evening? Although I was worried about what might happen if he did go there – if I’d be able to stop him, and how I’d cope afterwards. I thought about what was going to happen tomorrow, how I would be lying on the bed in the clinic, my legs in the air, having a tiny embryo placed inside me. I should be at home, getting ready for bed. I shouldn’t be pissed in a pub, fantasizing about letting an ex-boyfriend finger me.

I pulled out my phone again, although I already knew what time it was.

‘It’s late,’ I sighed, barely able to look him in the eye. I wanted him so much. Just the lightest brush of his arm was doing all kinds of things to my insides. I hadn’t felt this sexually alive in a long time. Maybe I should leave now, go home, eat toast and drink lots of water before sleeping the alcohol off. My gaze lingered on his lips again.

‘I don’t even have your number,’ he said.

I unlocked my phone and opened a blank new contact page.

‘Here, put in yours,’ I replied as if this were as normal as an exchange with a new work contact.

He added his name and number. Just ‘Jason’. He hadn’t needed a surname in my address book then, and he didn’t need one now.

‘I’m not ready for tonight to end – are you?’ he asked, delighting me as much as terrifying me, that yes, he did seem to be thinking the same.

‘I really should be going home, I’ve got lots on tomorrow, but…’ I allowed myself to look fully into his eyes and let him reach into mine. ‘I’m really enjoying your company.’

I think that was the moment we both made the decision.