The consideration he showed her set him apart from other men. He’d always offer her a seat when they went to a restaurant, even if it meant yanking it from underneath another dinner first. And he treated her family like it was already his own, being particularly kind to her younger sister who he showered with gifts of flowers and underwear.
He had his faults of course, all men did. His table manners resembled the attack on Pearl Harbour and his insistence on naming her erogenous zones after members of the Sky Sports cricket commentary team was sending out mixed messages.
But for all that, he was her man and she felt safe within his encompassing embrace. A feeling of completeness that increased that day when she heard his footsteps approach from behind. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she felt his Heineken scented breath touch her skin whilst he gently matched the shape of his body to hers as she responded to his hands gently curving round her waist and from there ever downwards towards her Charles Colville.
“Hey,” she exclaimed, slapping away his hand, “Are you late for a bus or something? Ian Ward and Nick Knight first!“
Extract reproduced by kind permission of Ms Davina Masterson