I leap on Tom the moment he opens the door. ‘God, it was so hard not answering your message last night. I so wanted to write back “no” but it totally would have proven your point.’ I punch him in the shoulder. ‘So anyway—I win.’
‘You’ve been desperate to get that out haven’t you?’ He grabs me and kisses me really hard. I stagger back when he stops. ‘And I’ve been desperate to do that.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Do you ever get tired of being the good guy?’
‘I’m not the good guy, I’m just happy,’ he gloats. ‘You love me.’
‘What?’ I say. I can’t believe he’s just declared it so openly.
He taps his backside where he keeps his phone. ‘I’ve got it in writing.’
‘I believe I also called you a rat fink.’
‘A rat fink you love!’ Someone’s used a butter knife to spread way too much smile on this guy’s face.
I can’t think of anything to say, so my throat makes a weird noise of irritation. He’s being awfully gleeful.
‘You’re not supposed to act this way you know,’ I say, walking over to the kitchen. ‘You’re supposed to be all worried that I said it too soon. That I must be a basket case.’
‘We already know that.’
‘Ha!’ I toss my head. ‘You’re supposed to be all paranoid because you can’t reciprocate. Spend all night tossing and turning wondering what to do about it. You’re just being plain smug,’ I snort. ‘Cruel really. Do you think you can rub my nose in it any more?’
Tom catches my hips and presses me against the kitchen cupboards. ‘You love me, you love me, you love me.’ I growl at him.
‘What’s wrong?’ he says, laughing. ‘I’ve brought my Adonis-like physique for you to fondle.’
Those texts certainly backfired. I’ve got him back, yes, but cocky as a, I don’t know, a really annoying rooster who knows he owns every hen in the henhouse kind of rooster.
‘You’ve missed the boat Adonis.’
‘Why?’
‘There’s only one way to back out of this.’
‘Which is?’ he asks, still looking way too pleased with himself.
‘Declaring your own pious love for me.’
For some reason that makes him even happier. ‘Oh baby, you already know I …’
‘Shut up.’ I shove my hand over his mouth. ‘You’ve totally ruined it.’ He is grinning underneath my hand. ‘You can’t tell me that you love me, for the very first time, directly after I’ve told you that you must.’
He pulls my hand away. ‘Too bad—I love you,’ he says with triumph.
I bang the kettle on, snarling. ‘Just you wait. I’ll get my revenge.’
He scoops me up into his arms. ‘Not enough romance?’
‘Put me the hell down.’
He ignores me, walks me to my bedroom and throws me on the bed. He takes off his shirt. ‘What is this, a freaking Mills and Boon?’ I complain, without a lot of conviction, I have to admit.
He swaggers toward me. ‘I’ve got something for you.’
‘You sound like Captain Cheeseball,’ I say, and then I see his skin. ‘What have you done?’ There is writing all over his torso. It skims down his belly, wraps around his side, even rolls its way around his biceps. ‘It can’t be a tattoo.’
‘It’s just pen. First Love by John Clare,’ Tom tells me. ‘He says it all, I think.’
‘So it seems,’ I say.
Tom lies down, points to his bellybutton. ‘Start here.’ He’s written it upside down, the first verse is scrawled up his torso almost to his throat.
I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
I follow the verses as they wrap around Tom’s body, reading with my fingers pressed to his skin.
‘Oh you’re good,’ I say when I’m done. I’m all aflush. How can I possibly tell him the truth about the curse and risk missing out on this? The boy is one in a zillion.
I’ll never tell him, I realise, feeling a sudden pang of guilt.
Tom folds his hands behind his head so his arms flex. ‘I am good.’
‘And this is why you’ve been so cocky,’ I say. ‘You’ve been hiding this under your shirt.’
His eyes twinkle. ‘You like?’
‘I can’t even begin to tell you.’
He smiles like the enormous crocodile. ‘Then skip the words.’
‘You’re going to give me ink poisoning,’ I complain.