“Only probably?”
She shrugged. “Depends how long it keeps me from riding. There’s no way I’ll be mounting up for the next few days.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Should have thought.”
“I was joking. It’s all good.” She leaned over the railings to check out the street below, and my shirt hitched up her thighs, draping beautifully over the rounded curve of her ass. Another day. Definitely.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s all good, Katie.”
She turned to me and her eyes met mine, and there were nerves there. Nerves and questions.
“Was I ok?” she said. “I mean,” she brushed her hair from her face, “did I meet your…criteria?”
Direct. I liked that.
“Yes. You were ok.” I stretched out my arms, enjoying the morning breeze, and her eyes roved my chest. Landed on the swell in my boxers. “You were more than ok. You were incredible.”
It made her blush. “Thanks.”
“You want to continue? With our arrangement?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I want to continue.” She smirked. “Definitely. Really definitely.” Her eyes twinkled.
“Rick’s quite something,” I remarked.
“Yeah, he is.” Her smile was so easy. So honest. “He says the same about you.”
“He flatters me.”
“I’m not so sure.” She laughed. “Idon’t think you’re all that bad.”
“Not all that bad?” I tipped my head. “Is that supposed to be praise?”
“Yeah.” Her laugh was intoxicating. Light and unguarded and fresh. “That’s praise.”
I watched the waves break on the pebbles, the litter pickers on the front, the straggle of people making their way places down below. Quiet. The calm before the storm of a sunny tourist Sunday. An illusion of stillness amongst the chaos that Brighton offers.
And that’s how I felt. Like this was an illusion. A moment of quiet connection with a storm on the horizon.
My heart picked up its beat, and there was the urge in me. The urge to lay it all out on the table. Negotiate. Hammer out the details.
If there would even be any details. We never usually made it that far.
Chill, Carl, just give it a fucking minute, man.
“What do you want out of life, Katie?”
She raised her eyebrows. “That’s quite a question for stupid o’clock in the morning.” She paused. Took deep breaths of sea air. “Everyone always wants to know where you’re going.What do you want to be when you grow up? What do you want to study at university? What car are you going to drive? What’s your life plan? What salary band do you want to be in when you hit thirty? When are you going to get a mortgage?”
“I wasn’t looking for your twenty-year plan.” I smirked. “Just a rough idea.”
She stared at me and her eyes were piercing, weighing me up. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“Your stable idea? Why would I?”
“You just would.”
“Why don’t you try me?”