Madness. Two sips of wine and I am dreaming of a future that can’t exist.

But the way he’s gazing at me, the present seems pretty exciting. Shouldn’t luck go both ways? I’ve had my share of shitty luck, so aren’t I due something – someone – incredible?

Dan takes a deep breath. ‘OK. This might be nuts, but I’ve got a suggestion that could help clear things up. When we’re together I can’t think straight, because there’s this voice in my head saying, Kiss her. Go on, kiss her.’

I laugh to cover up how much I want that too.

‘That must be distracting,’ I say.

‘Massively. So – before we do anything else – we could try out the kiss we almost had in Leigh Woods. I mean, it might be rubbish, which means problem solved, we can get on with our lives. As friends or something.’

‘That’s very logical. A small price to pay for peace of mind.’ The jokiness is all that’s stopping me from jumping over the coffee table and kissing him first.

‘Your place or mine?’ His voice sounds husky.

‘Mine.’

Screw the past, and the future. Dan is here, now, and I want him.

He moves so slowly: he must be able to hear the thump of my heart as he stands up, crosses the room, sits next to me on the very edge of the sofa, and I can smell the sweet-sour wine he was drinking seconds ago, and my head moves towards his, and the sensation when our lips finally touch is . . .

Beyond words.

Chapter 21: Dan

I didn’t really believe kissing Gemma would be rubbish. But I never thought it’d be this incredible, either . . .

When we finally move a few centimetres apart to breathe, I see it in her wild green eyes: she’s as knocked out by what just happened as I am.

‘So,’ she whispers, ‘what’s the verdict?’

‘I, er . . . I don’t think that has simplified things.’ My voice sounds different, like that kiss – one single kiss – has changed me completely.

She smiles the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen. ‘Yeah, no. Neither do I.’

We kiss again. The kiss is everything. I want it to go on for ever. To stop time.

A huge sigh interrupts us: the dog. I like that dog, but right now he can do one. Because Gemma – beautiful Gemma with that soft smile and even softer lips – is pulling away . . .

Other stuff gets louder again: the hum of people and boats and life out on the waterside. The high-pitched buzz of tinnitus that rarely lets me be.

‘Bear’s waking up,’ she says. ‘I think he needs a walk.’

He’s not waking up: he’s settling back down again and already starting to snore. Gemma is making an excuse to get away. Is she scared? Am I?

No. I’m . . . happy. Happier than I’ve felt in so long.