Page 44 of The Last Casterglass

“Maybe. Hopefully? I don’t know.” She shook her head. Their fingers were still twined, and she wondered what any of this meant for them—Prague, her future plans, their clasped hands. What, exactly, was going on here? She was working up the courage to ask—and taking a while with it—when Oliver stirred, slipping his hand from hers.

“Come on,” he said, as he raised one hand for the bill. “Let’s walk back to the hotel. The moon is out, and we can walk across the bridge, maybe have a drink in the bar.”

*

As they steppedoutside the restaurant, the air was frosty and clear, a full moon glimmering above the bridge like scenery in a play. It was all so perfect, and yet Oliver’s heart ached. He thought of what Seph had said, about needing to leave Casterglass. He understood, of course he did, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Where could he fit into that picture?

He knew he wanted to, and yet he had the horrible sense that he was going to fall prey to that old cliché—if you love someone, let them go…

But he didn’t want to. He felt as if he’d just found Seph, and with her, found himself. He didn’t want to let any of it go, and yet did he really have a choice? Seph was finally finding her wings, starting to spread them. Who was he to clip them, with expectations about a future together, either at Pembury or Casterglass?

Or, he wondered as they headed back across the bridge, was he just giving himself an excuse not to risk his heart, because he knew how much that could hurt?Don’t say anything… Let her be free…and stay safe.

Was that really how he wanted to be?

Seph paused halfway across the now-empty bridge, resting her hands on the ancient stone balustrade. “Look,” she said softly. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Mist was rolling slowly across the river, wispy and ghost-like, like shreds of gossamer, trails of smoke, the water underneath glinting beneath the moonlight. Somewhere along the narrow streets, a church bell tolled the hour.

“It’s so magical,” Seph said softly. “I feel like I have to pinch myself, to make sure it’s real.” She turned to him, her expression turning almost fierce. “Thank you for giving this to me. For going ahead and booking it. I never would have done it on my own, and I—I’m glad I’m seeing it with you.”

Oliver felt as if his heart was overflowing with the depth of his feeling. Sod letting her go. He couldn’t keep this in. He didn’t want to, and he hoped and prayed she didn’t, either. “Seph…” he began, but then words weren’t enough, and he was reaching for her, his hand slipping, drawing her towards him.

Her eyes widened almost comically as she came, her breath coming out in a surprised rush as she stood next to him, their hips and shoulders bumping, their breath mingling in frosty puffs.

“I want to kiss you,” Oliver admitted with what he’d meant to be a wry voice but came out full of longing. “Would that be okay?”

“Oh…” She sounded so surprised that for a second both his will and his hope faltered. “I thought…I thought we were just friends…”

No.No, no, no, not again, Oliver thought with a lurch of despair, a rush of humiliation. He’d got it all wrong again, laid his heart on the line and for what? He could hardly believe it. Why did he have to be such achump…

And then Seph was smiling shyly, reminding Oliver of a rose unfurling, as she stepped even closer to him. “I didn’t dare hope…” she whispered, and his heart felt like a sunburst exploding in his chest as he took her in his arms.

“Me neither,” he said, and then he kissed her. Her lips were soft and hesitant under his as Oliver pulled her more tightly to him. The feel of her slender body against his, the way her mouth opened under his…if all he had for the rest of his life was this moment, then it would be enough.

Well, not quite. But almost. It felt like a perfect kiss, in a perfect place, and even though he knew neither of them had any idea what the future could possibly bring—for Pembury, for Casterglass, for each other—he would happily stay here, with Seph in his arms, forever. Forget the future, he thought as he kissed her again. Let them just have this.

After a few delicious seconds they broke the kiss, blinking at each other shyly. The smile Seph gave him was wondering and incredulous, and made Oliver grin goofily back. Yes, they had this, he thought, as silently, by mutual agreement, they walked hand in hand across the bridge, and maybe that was all they’d have. He would just have to let it be enough.

Chapter Seventeen

Seph blinked slowlyin the early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains of the hotel room. In the bed next to her Oliver was still asleep, his hair delightfully tousled, his mouth slack. She recalled that kiss all over again and a warmth spread through her body, a joy in her heart. It really had been the most wonderful thing.

Afterwards they’d walked back to the hotel and had a drink in the bar just as they’d planned, but they’d kept grinning at each other, and even letting out a silly little laugh every once in a while, as if neither of them could believe they’d actually kissed.

It wasn’t until they’d headed upstairs for bed that Seph had started to panic a bit. Yes, they’d kissed, and maybe they were even dating, but what did Oliver actually expect? When it came to this particular department, she was as inexperienced as it was possible to be, and she knew she wasn’t ready to change that situation any more than they already had. Fortunately, Oliver seemed to understand that perfectly, for he ushered her into the room like a gentleman, let her have the bathroom first to change before changing himself, into a very respectable pair of pyjamas that made him look, rather endearingly, like a middle-aged man.

Then he’d climbed into his bed while she’d climbed into hers, smiling wryly. “We’ve moved from a first kiss to being an old, married couple,” he told her teasingly. “Veryold.”

She’d laughed and he’d lain on his side, facing her. “We don’t have to rush anything,” he’d said seriously. “I know you’re still figuring what you want out of life, and you’re most likely not ready to decide whether I might be in it. But if we can keep spending time together, and I get to kiss you on occasion, well, that’s enough for me.”

His words, so sincere and heartfelt, had brought a lump to her throat. He was letting her call the shots, and for that she was very grateful, but at the same time part of her wanted to clamber out of her bed and into his, whatever the consequences. She didn’t, though, because sense prevailed, but she did reach for his hand.

“That sounds pretty good to me,” she said, and he’d smiled and squeezed her hand. They’d fallen asleep, still holding hands, and she’d woken up this morning feeling happy and grateful and excited for the day, but also wondering what the future might hold for either of them.Bothof them.

“Good morning.” The smile he gave her was both warm and wry, with a hint of self-consciousness. “I didn’t consider this whole morning thing. Bedhead and bad breath…not for the faint of heart.” He scrambled up to a sitting position to stretch, and Seph had to draw her eyes away from his surprisingly broad chest, the tantalising glimpse of taut stomach as he’d lifted his arms above his head. Wim Hof had nothing on him when it came to six-packs, she thought with a thrill. She’d been too shy to look at him properly when they’d been swimming, but now she was conscious of his body, his nearness. Of wanting to crawl right into his arms.

“What shall we do today?” she asked as she scooted up to sitting, as well.