Chapter Twenty-Eight

For two days Theo acts as if nothing has happened. He's not awkward or distant, if anything he's sweeter than ever – the first morning when I come downstairs it's to find not only the flowers David sent me in a vase, but more daisies sitting in a jam jar next to my computer. He insists on cooking dinner for me by himself, and it's not even a complete disaster. He emails a bookshop in Alnwick and orders me a parcel full of the children's books they recommend.

But he doesn't say a single word about Sam or the kiss.

And that's fine, obviously. I'm taking it all in my stride. So we shared the most earth-shattering kiss in the history of human mouths, and I unburdened my soul to him, and he seems to have forgotten all about it. So what? Big deal. I'm not going to let a little thing like that faze me. At least that's what I tell myself when I accidentally wash my hair with bubble bath, go to the shops wearing two different shoes, and walk into the fridge when Theo unexpectedly enters the kitchen.

Totally unfazed.

In fairness, Theo has been very busy writing – I've heard the muffled evidence coming from behind his bedroom door, and while he's still been a bit reticent to talk about it, I get the sense he's leaving here with the shape of a whole album at least. I know Serena has booked him a studio in LA in a couple of weeks' time to record and that he feels excited about it. Which is great news for me because – despite actually doing very little – everyone is delighted with me. (Except David. David considers my work to have been acceptable.)

I have plenty to keep me occupied in these last few days as well, because while Theo is busy not talking about anything that happened between us, he's also not talking about the fact we only have two days left before we leave Northumberland. But David certainly is. David has a lot to say about it.

I think he's looking forward to getting Theo back to himself soon, and there is a long list of stuff that needs to be packed, and another long list of arrangements that need to be made for moving furniture, equipment, and Theo himself. I seem to spend half the day fielding phone calls from David, removal companies, and the airline because Theo's guitars need some insane insurance policy before they can be shipped back to LA.

So, after days of silence on the subject, I think I can be forgiven for the undignified squeak that escapes my lips when Theo says, very casually over dinner, ‘I think we'd better talk about what we're going to do about us once we leave Northumberland.'

‘What we're going to do about us?' I manage once the squeaking has finished.

‘Yes, Clemmie.' Theo sounds impatient. ‘We are leaving in two days, you know. We have to have this conversation some time.'

‘What?' I exclaim, managing to sound both baffled and pissed off at the same time, which is exactly how I feel.

‘About us,' Theo says, gesturing between us with his fork. ‘Me and you. Us.'

‘What about us?'

‘Well, what did you think?' Theo says airily. ‘That I was just going to jet off to Los Angeles with no plan in place for when we'd see each other again?'

As that was exactly what I had been thinking I decide to keep my mouth shut.

Theo casts a sideways look at me and puts his fork down. ‘There's actually something that I wanted to ask you.' He looks flustered, a flush touching his cheekbones. ‘One of the reasons I agreed to come to the UK for this writing session was because I needed to be around this week anyway. Lisa's getting married.'

‘Your sister is getting married?' I frown. ‘When?'

‘On Saturday.'

‘Saturday as in five days from now?' David had been cagey about when Theo himself was flying back to the States and I guess this was why. I have a dim memory of Theo mentioning a family event way back at Serena's party.

Theo nods. ‘Yeah, it's a whole big four-day thing from Thursday to Sunday. I'm flying back to LA on the Sunday afternoon. I wondered, well, I thought, maybe… I hoped you might…'

‘Sort out your hotel?' I finish for him. ‘I'm surprised David hasn't already. You've left it a bit late. Wait…' I eye him suspiciously. ‘David does know you're not going straight back to LA, doesn't he? Because if you think I'm going to help you hide from him so you can keep funnelling Maltesers down your neck then—'

‘Clemmie!' Theo interrupts, half-laughing, exasperation writ large in his eyes. ‘Yes, David knows I'm going, and no, I don't want you to book me a hotel. Jesus!' He scrubs a hand over his face.

‘Oh, sorry,' I say. ‘It's just I've been sorting out a bunch of stuff like that this week and—'

‘I'm trying to ask you out,' Theo blurts.

I blink.

He clears his throat; the flush deepens. ‘I wondered if you'd be my date. To my sister's wedding.'

My jaw must be hanging open, because after a moment Theo says, his tone almost sulky, ‘You don't need to look at me like that; it's not that strange.'

‘You asking me to go to your sister's wedding as your date?' I repeat. ‘It's actually pretty strange, given that you kissed me two days ago and then haven't said a word about it since!'

‘Well, neither have you!'

Huh.

‘And I've been waiting, being patient, not pushing or rushing you, trying to show you how I feel. Isn't that the romantic way of doing things?' Theo adds. ‘Honestly, it feels like sometimes you're actively trying to thwart me.'

I start to choke on a sip of water. ‘Thwart you? How was I supposed to know? Maybe next time use your words.' I wheeze, the word romantic ringing in my ears.

‘I'm using them now.' Theo smiles, hands me a napkin, equilibrium returning. ‘So, will you go to the wedding with me? Please?'

‘I…' I hesitate. ‘I can't just turn up at your sister's wedding. Does she know you're bringing a date?'

‘I actually asked her if I could bring you weeks ago,' Theo says, the colour back in his cheeks. ‘I just didn't have the nerve to invite you.'

I frown. ‘How many weeks ago?'

His eyes meet mine. ‘About five weeks ago. After you bit me then told me you wanted to lick my dimple. I hoped that these were signs you weren't totally indifferent to me.'

I blush, torn between mortification and whatever the warm feeling uncurling in my belly is. ‘You want me to go with you as a date?' I say slowly. ‘A romantic date? Or a friend date?'

‘I suppose technically it's both,' Theo shrugs. ‘I'm happy you're my friend, but I'm asking you to go as more than that.' He smiles again. ‘Is that clear enough for you? I don't want there to be ambiguity about my intentions.'

‘Your intentions?' I repeat, still trying to catch up with what is happening and why Theo is suddenly talking like Mr Darcy.

Theo reaches over the table and wraps his fingers around mine. His hand is big and warm and just the touch of it quickens my pulse. ‘I need you to know that I'm glad you told me about you and…' – he hesitates here, a look of distaste flickers over his face – ‘your ex,' he manages. ‘Because it means I understand better why this is complicated for you, why we need to take it slowly, why you need to be able to trust me, and that part of that is being completely clear and honest with you. So, yes, those are my intentions: to take you to my sister's wedding on a romantic date. I want us to be together. If you want to.'

I look down at our hands. ‘I do want to,' I say quietly, ‘but…'

‘Ask me, Clemmie,' Theo urges, squeezing my fingers. ‘Whatever it is, you can ask me anything. I won't keep secrets from you.'

‘It's just that…' – I struggle for the words – ‘in the past, I think you've been more… not that there's anything… I only…'

Theo slumps back in his chair. ‘This is about my vibrant sex life, isn't it?' I'm relieved to hear the note of teasing in his voice.

‘Yes,' I admit.

‘Right,' Theo scrapes a hand across his chin. ‘Let's just get it all out on the table, then, shall we?'

‘Okay,' I say, trying not to look queasy while internally bracing myself for what is about to come.

‘Well,' Theo muses, ‘my first relationships – as you know – were your standard disasters. I was shy and awkward, and I didn't realize at the time that that made me just the same as every other teenager faking my way through secondary school. Then, when I was eighteen, I auditioned for The Daze and I got in.'

‘I feel like you're brushing over a lot of stuff there,' I say.

‘Not really.' Theo shakes his head. ‘I was a total music geek. School orchestra, church choir, the whole lot. I spent most of my lunch breaks hiding out in the music classroom, telling myself I was giving off a moody and creative vibe while actually memorizing the lyrics to "Tubthumping". My teacher heard about the audition and convinced a couple of us to go. The whole process was a blur. Honestly, I was so nervous, I barely remember it.'

He sighs. ‘Things happened very fast for us – not through any real combination of skill and talent. It was a "right place, right time" thing and the guys who put the band together were incredibly savvy. Anyway, it's true that when we first started out, I did not behave well. Suddenly I was a big deal, and men and women were literally throwing themselves at me and I started buying into the hype. The headlines that got written about me then were mostly true and I couldn't have cared less. I wasn't looking for anything serious – why shouldn't I have a different partner every night? Why not just say yes to all of it? I wasn't hurting anyone; I didn't break promises, because I didn't make them.'

Theo grimaces. ‘I don't love that I was that person, but I was eighteen years old, and an absolute idiot, thrust into a completely insane situation. I doubt most grown people would like to be judged by the person they were at eighteen, but for me it's difficult because I feel so wholly unconnected to that guy. Ten years later I was in my twenties but I felt like an old man. I was sick of it, sick of myself. I started having therapy, which helped a lot, then a couple of years later I met a girl – Cyn, and we started dating.'

I try to betray no flicker of emotion at these words.

‘As you know, we were together for almost five years,' Theo continues, ‘and during that time I was in a totally monogamous relationship, but that was when all my chickens came home to roost. The press had branded me a playboy, a womanizer. A dickhead, basically – and they weren't wrong then, but now there was no changing it. Every time I was near another woman there were photographs of us and headlines about how I was cheating, how Cyn and I were breaking up and getting back together. It was relentless. In the end we did break up – not because of that.' Theo looks thoughtful for a moment, taps his fingers against the top of the table. ‘Or at least not totally because of that. Cyn was great – she trusted me – we'd just grown apart, we were both busy with work, always travelling, trying to snatch time together. We knew it wasn't right, that neither of us were in it for the long haul, that we were better as friends.'

‘And then?' I ask.

‘After that, it was more of the same – more rumours, more stories linking me to every singer or actress you can think of. I basically stopped dating altogether – how could I really date someone in a situation like that? I wasn't a monk, but I was pretty close, not that you'd know it from my reputation or the way people write about me.' He shrugs, but I can tell the nonchalance is forced. ‘I stopped trying to fight it, to explain myself. It's easier just to let people think what they want. I brought it on myself, after all. Now I have to live with it.'

I remember then, the look on his face the night of Serena's party, when she'd asked him if he had to sleep with everyone he met. I know he likes Serena, respects her, and I know that comment hurt him. I know, because I saw it. I just didn't know Theo then, not like I do now.

‘So when you said you hadn't had a one-night stand in over a decade…' I trail off, turning the words into a question.

‘That was true.' Theo's dimple appears, and the sight of it makes me happy. ‘Not until this beautiful, tequila-swilling redhead whirled in on me hiding at a funeral, told me she'd just called down an ancient curse on her ex-boyfriend and then propositioned me. I was a goner from the start.'

And I know that every word out of his mouth is the truth. I don't even preface it in my mind with a ‘maybe I'm an idiot for believing him, but…'. I simply believe him.

‘And then,' – Theo clutches at his hair in mock despair – ‘picture it, if you will… this dream woman, she sneaks out on me! Leaves me a three-line note with the wrong name at the top and disappears. Now, some might call that karma.'

‘Some might,' I agree, and I can feel a big, dumb grin spreading across my face.

There's a matching one on Theo's lips. ‘But, fate steps in – I run into her again and we're about to be marooned in the middle of nowhere together for six weeks. I'm delighted.' Theo holds up his finger. ‘Only, guess what? Her entire history means that she'll never see me as anything but a sleazy musician who charmed her into bed, and anything that I do to try and prove otherwise only strengthens the case against me – I'm a flirt, a charmer, every word I say has an ulterior motive.'

‘Sounds like a real pickle.'

‘Yes, it is!' Theo exclaims sternly. ‘Because I'm so totally gone over her, more attracted to this woman than I've ever been to another human being in my life – like a fucking horny teenager – and if I give any indication of that, she will believe I am a tremendous sex pest. So for the first week I can't be in the same room with her. It's humiliating. Whenever she touches me, I think I might die. I'm a disaster. I'm convinced this whole idea was a huge mistake. I'm mortified that she thinks I'm a diva who gives a shit about what brand of mineral water I drink.'

‘You are a diva!' I'm laughing now, elated.

‘Right, maybe I've been made more aware of the things I've taken for granted for a long time,' he concedes, ‘but you made me feel like you expected me to start throwing furniture if I saw a single red MM.'

I laugh harder at that, and Theo is smirking. ‘Anyway,' he carries on, ‘the point is, I thought this girl wasn't interested, and that was fine. I was trying to be respectful of that, to keep a lid on my own feelings, but then she got high on painkillers and told me repeatedly and graphically how attracted to me she was—'

‘No, I didn't!' I gasp.

‘You did!' Theo laughs harder now. ‘When we got back from our trip to the pharmacy. I woke you up and you were just babbling the filthiest stream of consciousness I've ever heard. There was something that I didn't understand about parallel parking and then some extremely explicit details about what you'd like to do to me and what you'd like me to do to you, and then you passed out again.'

‘Oh my God.' I cradle my flaming face in my hands.

‘Don't be embarrassed, Clemmie. I told you that you'd be great at writing smutty fan fiction.' He nudges my elbow. ‘It was hot stuff, except for the part where you sneezed into my hand before I could pass you a tissue.'

‘I don't even think I believe you.' I peep at him through my fingers and he's grinning wickedly.

‘I swear it's true,' he says. ‘But it made me think that maybe you did like me too, or maybe you could like me.' He shrugs again. ‘I don't really know – I was a mess over it – but I couldn't keep away from you after that. Because being with you is the most fun I've ever had, and even if nothing else ever happens, just sitting on the sofa watching TV with you is the best part of my day.'

There's a pause. I look down at the plate in front of me, where my dinner has gone cold. Deep down I know there are a dozen other things we should talk about, a list of obstacles that stand between us and any sort of real relationship that is a mile long, but right now I don't want to think about those things. I don't even want to acknowledge those things exist. So I don't.

‘That was quite a speech,' I say a little breathlessly. ‘I guess after all that I'd better go to the wedding with you.'

‘Really?' He smiles wide and gets to his feet. Coming to stand next to me, he reaches for my hand.

I tip my face up to look at him. He's so beautiful it hurts. ‘Yes, really. You know how much I love party food.'

Theo tugs on my hand, pulling me up so that we're standing flush against each other. His arm locks around my waist, my pulse is racing, my breathing ragged, my body feels so hectic I'm afraid I might actually swoon, which would only further Theo's argument that I'm trying to thwart him.

‘We're going on a date?' Theo asks, his lips millimetres from mine. ‘A real date?'

I swallow, nod.

‘Finally,' he breathes. Then his mouth comes down on mine, soft and sweet. When he pulls away only moments later, I make a sound of protest. Theo's eyebrow lifts. ‘Any ideas how we should spend our last two days here?'

I brush my lips against his neck, which is met by a low growl of approval. ‘Mmm.' I tip my head to the side. ‘Maybe one or two. Tell me, how much do you remember about these extremely explicit details?'

‘Everything, Clemmie.' Theo smiles. ‘I remember everything.'