Getting Dirty

He scans the street, clearly on edge, and I feel the situation rapidly running away from me.

‘Look, it’s okay if you’re busy.’

‘I am.’

‘Going somewhere nice?’ I try for a smile and gesture to his outfit. He has the same number of buttons undone at the collar, the same hint of hair...

‘You shouldn’t be here, Coco.’

I realise I’m staring. Right at his chest. My palms are tickling with reignited memories. I pull my gaze back to his face and swallow past the desire-shaped wedge taking up camp in my throat. I hear his words, register their negativity, but there’s also his tone, and the pulse working like crazy in his jaw...

Is he really freaked out by me turning up? Or is he fighting the same forceful attraction?

Please let it be the latter.

‘No, you’re probably right...’ I take a breath and give him another smile, wanting to test the water. ‘But I can’t get our last meeting out of my head.’

His mouth tightens, his throat bobs. He says nothing, but his eyes tell me he’s reliving it too and I push on, my confidence returning. ‘I thought maybe we could...you know...see each other again?’

‘See each other?’

It rasps out, but his tough-guy exterior is at odds with the widening of his eyes. The rabbit-caught-in-the-headlights look makes him seem boyish and I give a soft laugh.

‘Don’t worry, Ash. I’m not asking you for a relationship...or even a real date...’ Although the truth was I’d take the date. ‘Only sex.’

I straighten on the last word, my chin jutting just a little, like I’m trying to convince him as well as myself.

‘You mean more distraction?’

‘Yes, if that’s what you want to call it.’

‘It’s what you called it.’

‘I did.’ I step closer and he tenses, backing away. ‘I’m not about to go all clingy on you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not like that.’

‘That’s not what I’m worried about.’ He shakes his head. ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he says again.

‘No? Where should I be, then?’

His eyes move over me, hesitant, probing. ‘Seeing a counsellor, a professional—someone who can help you deal with what you’re going through.’

I laugh. I can’t help it. Is he for real? ‘I don’t need a therapist.’

‘I didn’t say you did. I’m just telling you I understand.’

He says it like he knows it. Like he’s lived it with me. And confusion, a sudden surge of sadness, has my temper sparking. ‘How can you possibly understand? I came to hook up with you again, not to be lectured. But of course you won’t get that, will you? Since I’m just a spoilt little rich girl?’

‘No, Coco, that’s not... You’re not...’ He rakes his fingers over the back of his head, turning away in frustration, tension thrumming off him in waves. ‘You just shouldn’t be here.’

‘Why?’

He stares back at me, the nerve in his jaw pulsing. He looks like he wants to say so much and yet nothing is coming.

‘Ash, what—’

‘You need to go.’ He raises his palm to me and avoids my eye.

‘Are you going to tell me the other night wasn’t fun?’ I’m going to make him acknowledge this, if nothing else. ‘Because I thought it was.’