‘Nothing to speak about. Okay, no dates, none. Not the kind I’d speak about or the kind I’d keep to myself.’

‘Do you keep some to yourself, dirty secret?’ I grin, I can’t help it, and nudge him in the ribs.

‘Plenty!’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Come on, eat your lunch, I went to a lot of expense and trouble!’

We grin at each other. Both take a bite of our sandwiches. Sit in silence.

‘Rosie, I’ve not dated because I realised how shallow and pathetic I’ve been.’

‘What?’

‘Spending time with you made me realise what a waste of time it all is.’

‘Dating?’ I gulp. This is not how I expected this to go. I’m all geared up for making up and maybe, just maybe, another kiss, and he’s telling me celibacy is the way forward. Talk about messed up timing. ‘O-kay.’

‘No, not dating. My way of dating, all this making the right moves, seducing people. Okay,’ he puts his hand flat on his knees and leans forward, ‘confession time: everything I’ve taught you is bollocks.’

‘Everything you taught me?’

‘Exactly.’ He tosses what’s left of his sandwich at a pigeon. ‘I watched you do it and cringed.’

‘Cringed! Don’t hold back the punches! I made you cringe?’ I might have to thump him, not kiss him. This is going from bad to worse. I’ve put him off for life!

‘Oh no, no.’ He chuckles. ‘Oh Rosie, I don’t mean that. It’s me I was cringing at, not you. The way you did it, you were amazing. I watched you chatting up all those guys and I was jealous as hell.’ Jealous, Noah was jealous? ‘I cringed because you made me realise how false I was, how much of a jerk I’ve been. What I’ve been doing is crap.’

‘A jerk that women still fall for though,’ I say reasonably. ‘You didn’t make them cringe.’

‘I made you cringe though.’

‘No, you didn’t.’ I smile at him, move slightly closer on the bench. ‘You made me laugh, you made me,’ I frown, ‘made me more me.’

He shakes his head slowly. ‘I was a complete twat thinking I could teach you anything; you’re perfect just the way you are. You are the real deal, Rosie.’

‘So I’m not rubbish at dating?’

‘Oh no, you most certainly are not rubbish.’

Oh my, this is sexy. His voice has this gruff edge to it. If this isn’t a move, if this is the real Noah then he’s making me all hot and bothered without trying.

I realise that we’ve both somehow moved inwards, and now we’re almost touching again. Well, at least I hope we’ve both moved, and it’s not just me who has scooted along the bench like a heat-seeking missile.

If anybody is watching this must look like a weird mating ritual the way we’re sliding along the bench, touching then retreating.

Actually, it would be quite nice if it was a weird mating ritual.

Some higher-level obscure dating thing that he’s not explained to me yet?