I've Got Your Number
Page 138
“Me.”
“The girl who stole my phone.” His lips brush against the corner of my mouth. “The thief.”
“It was in a bin. ”
“Still stealing.”
“No, it isn’t—” I begin, but now his mouth is firmly on mine and I can’t speak at all.
And suddenly life is good.
I know that things are still uncertain; I know that reality hasn’t gone away. There’ll be explanations and recriminations and messiness. But right now I’m entwined with a man I think I might love. And I haven’t married the man I know I don’t love. And from where I’m looking, that’s pretty good going, for now.
At last we draw away from each other, and across the road I can hear Annalise whooping in appreciation. Which is pretty tacky of her, but that’s just Annalise.
“I brought you some reading matter, by the way,” Sam says. “In case there was a dull moment.”
He reaches inside his jacket and produces a bundle of coffee-stained A4 papers. And as I see them, there’s a thickening in my chest. He kept them. Even after we parted so badly. He kept our texts.
“Any good?” I manage a nonchalant tone.
“Not bad.” He flips through them, then lifts his head. “Looking forward to the sequel.”
“Really?” And now the way he’s looking at me is making me tingle all over. “So, do you know what happens next?”
“Oh … I have a fair idea.” He trails his fingers down my neck, and I feel an instant bolt of lust. I am totally ready for my honeymoon night.109 I don’t need the champagne or the canapés or the three-course dinner or the first dance. Or even the last dance.
But, on the other hand, there’s the small matter of two hundred people standing across the street, watching me, as though waiting for instructions. Some of them have traveled for miles. I can’t bail out on them.
“So … we’ve got this party,” I say tentatively to Sam. “It’s, like, all my friends and family, all at once, in a really intimidating bunch, plus all the friends and family of the guy I was supposed to marry today. And sugared almonds. You want to come?”
Sam raises his eyebrows. “You think Magnus will shoot me?”
“Dunno.” I squint at Magnus across the road. He’s standing there, along with everyone else, watching us. But as far as I can tell, he doesn’t look too homicidal.
“I don’t think so. Shall I send him a text and ask him?”
“If you like.” Sam shrugs, taking out his own phone.
Magnus. This guy I’m standing with is Sam. I know this isn’t exactly usual—but can I bring him to our wedding reception? Poppy xxx
PS—why don’t you bring a guest too??
A moment later I get a response.
If you must. Mag
Which isn’t exactly enthusiastic but doesn’t sound like he’s planning to shoot anyone either.
I’m about to put my phone away when it bleeps again, and I stare in surprise. It’s a text from Sam. He must have just sent it a few seconds ago. Without looking at him, I open it to see:
It’s a heart. He sent me a love heart. Without even saying anything. Like a little secret.
My eyes feel hot, but somehow I manage to stay calm as I type my reply:
Me too.
I want to add more … but, no. More can come later.
I press send then look up with a bright smile, take Sam by the arm, and draw up my train out of the dusty pavement.
“So. Come on, then. Let’s hit my wedding.”
THE END
“The girl who stole my phone.” His lips brush against the corner of my mouth. “The thief.”
“It was in a bin. ”
“Still stealing.”
“No, it isn’t—” I begin, but now his mouth is firmly on mine and I can’t speak at all.
And suddenly life is good.
I know that things are still uncertain; I know that reality hasn’t gone away. There’ll be explanations and recriminations and messiness. But right now I’m entwined with a man I think I might love. And I haven’t married the man I know I don’t love. And from where I’m looking, that’s pretty good going, for now.
At last we draw away from each other, and across the road I can hear Annalise whooping in appreciation. Which is pretty tacky of her, but that’s just Annalise.
“I brought you some reading matter, by the way,” Sam says. “In case there was a dull moment.”
He reaches inside his jacket and produces a bundle of coffee-stained A4 papers. And as I see them, there’s a thickening in my chest. He kept them. Even after we parted so badly. He kept our texts.
“Any good?” I manage a nonchalant tone.
“Not bad.” He flips through them, then lifts his head. “Looking forward to the sequel.”
“Really?” And now the way he’s looking at me is making me tingle all over. “So, do you know what happens next?”
“Oh … I have a fair idea.” He trails his fingers down my neck, and I feel an instant bolt of lust. I am totally ready for my honeymoon night.109 I don’t need the champagne or the canapés or the three-course dinner or the first dance. Or even the last dance.
But, on the other hand, there’s the small matter of two hundred people standing across the street, watching me, as though waiting for instructions. Some of them have traveled for miles. I can’t bail out on them.
“So … we’ve got this party,” I say tentatively to Sam. “It’s, like, all my friends and family, all at once, in a really intimidating bunch, plus all the friends and family of the guy I was supposed to marry today. And sugared almonds. You want to come?”
Sam raises his eyebrows. “You think Magnus will shoot me?”
“Dunno.” I squint at Magnus across the road. He’s standing there, along with everyone else, watching us. But as far as I can tell, he doesn’t look too homicidal.
“I don’t think so. Shall I send him a text and ask him?”
“If you like.” Sam shrugs, taking out his own phone.
Magnus. This guy I’m standing with is Sam. I know this isn’t exactly usual—but can I bring him to our wedding reception? Poppy xxx
PS—why don’t you bring a guest too??
A moment later I get a response.
If you must. Mag
Which isn’t exactly enthusiastic but doesn’t sound like he’s planning to shoot anyone either.
I’m about to put my phone away when it bleeps again, and I stare in surprise. It’s a text from Sam. He must have just sent it a few seconds ago. Without looking at him, I open it to see:
It’s a heart. He sent me a love heart. Without even saying anything. Like a little secret.
My eyes feel hot, but somehow I manage to stay calm as I type my reply:
Me too.
I want to add more … but, no. More can come later.
I press send then look up with a bright smile, take Sam by the arm, and draw up my train out of the dusty pavement.
“So. Come on, then. Let’s hit my wedding.”
THE END
