“It’s raining.” Kit looked out at the trees blowing in the gusty wind. “I think you might be right …”
“About what?”
“Telling Seren. It’s pathetic spending years pining after someone. If I talk to her, I might be able to put all this behind me and stop obsessing over her.”
“I think you should go for it.”
He blew out a breath. “I’m going to.”
“When?”
“Now. Before I change my mind.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” He was already at the door and shoving his feet into his shoes. “I’m going to her place now.”
“Wow. Okay.”
Kit swapped the phone from hand to hand as he put his jacket on. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck. Let me know how it goes.”
He promised he would, then ended the call and raced out of the door. When he’d been out with the train that morning, he’d seen Seren on her way to work and had chatted to her for a few minutes. She hadn’t mentioned working a double shift, so she should be home again by now. If not, he’d take it as a sign to keep his feelings to himself.
The rain eased slightly as he walked over there and his hood kept him mostly dry. Shortly after he rang the doorbell, he heard footsteps on the stairs.
His heart was hammering when Seren opened the door, her eyebrows twitching upwards in surprise.
“Hi,” he said. “How are you?” As his chest clenched, he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the door frame, then immediately stood up straight again.
“Fine.” She glanced up and down the road. “How are you?”
“Good. Thanks.” He flashed her a nervous smile. “I wanted to talk to you … if you have time. Can I come up for a bit?”
“Sure.” Standing aside, she gestured for him to come in and closed the door behind him.
Being in her flat felt strange. He’d been there before on occasion, but most of the time they spent together was at his mum’s house or Noah’s house or at the pub. They weren’t often in each other’s homes. The open-plan kitchen-living room was a little messy with the sink full of dishes and a couple of plates and glasses sitting on the coffee table.
“Do you want a drink or anything?” Seren asked.
“No. I’m okay, thanks.”
“I presume you got the afternoon off with all that rain?” She moved to the couch and shifted a basket of washing to the floor.
“Yeah. Was the pub busy today?”
“Not really.” She took a seat and he did the same. The small talk felt uncomfortable, and he knew he should get to the point of his visit.
“I had a really good time last weekend,” he said, his voice slightly too loud.
“Me too.”
“It was great to spend so much time with you.” He wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. “I wanted to tell you …” Oh god, what was he doing? He should have prepared what he was going to say. Declaring that he loved her felt dramatic, but the alternative was to say he liked her or fancied her … which was nowhere close to how he felt.
“Tell me what?” she asked when the silence stretched on. “Is this about the money I owe you? Because I—”
He cut her off. “It’s not about the money. I actually wanted to pay for you.”