It was only then that I realised I’d left the offending appendage lit up on the table between us. ‘Oh fuck.’ I grabbed it, back-clicked then cradled my forehead, ‘I’m so sorry.’ When I’d stashed the phone out of sight on my lap, though, I couldn’t help but swing back to Jeremy and his not-so reassurances. ‘I’m sorry, did you say you’ve got a date after this?’

‘I do. Down the road, in fact. Do you know the restaurant Bel—’ I don’t know what face I made but it stopped him in his tracks. ‘Is it weird that I have a date after this?’

Yes. ‘I thought you said you brought all your dates here?’

‘Oh, she’s a second date. It’s always a restaurant for the second date.’

‘Same restaurant or …’ Jeremy obviously didn’t sense the sarcasm in my voice given that he actually answered the question!

‘Actually, yeah.’

‘Okay.’ I sipped my drink for something to do. Comedy, I decided, the moment needed more comedy. ‘Well, at least I know you’re not going to try to take me home on the first date.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Let’s not be hasty. Plans get cancelled all the time.’

Under the table I fumbled to unlock my phone. I’d deliberately made Faith my last call of the afternoon, so she was only two clicks away in my call log if I needed to one-ringer her. I smiled, neeeearly laughed at Jeremy’s comment, then feigned a blush so I could look down and check I wasn’t calling Rowan. Because that would about round this experience off nicely, I thought with a heavy heart. Faith called back within seconds, though, and I thought she must have been waiting on the handset. I excused myself with fake concern – ‘I’m so sorry, Jeremy, I better take this real quick’ – and then I made my way to the bathroom.

‘Oh my God,’ Faith said in a deadpan tone when I answered. ‘My period is late and I’m really worried about this guy I didn’t have sex with. Be a best friend and come over.’ She cleared her throat, then, and added, ‘Is that emergency enough?’ in a more jovial tone.

‘I need an airlift-level emergency, Faith. NiceGuy2022 my ass …’

Chapter 17

By the time Rowan next came over for dinner, I’d been on three dates and received approximately two million messages. Still somehow everything was painfully normal. He even went as far as to suggest sex, or close to suggesting it – ‘I thought maybe I could stay over?’ – and even though I said yes to the sleepover, I leaned hard against the lie that every woman tells at one time or another – ‘I’m on, babe, sorry’ – and suggested a film instead.