LIBBY

***

I knew the date with Jasper was going to be exciting, especially after what we did last night, but the place he took me to was nothing short of magical.

There wasn't a person around for miles, no soul, no noise, just us. And it was perfect.

I don't know how long we'd been driving for when we finally came to a stop on a beach somewhere. But in the car I could tell he was nervous. Actually I don't think it was nerves, I reckon it was just apprehension... But I don't think he knew or understood how good he was at the small stuff. Small stuff like kissing my nose or my shoulder... or just knowing when I'm happy, sad or uncomfortable. He was so good at it on instinct and he wasn't even aware.

He was opening up though, I could tell. I didn't even need to open my eyes fully to see it. And I don't want to take all the credit but I can't help but think our relationship has been a catalyst. His parents, who I'd known for only a couple of days, had already noticed the difference and it was odd how we seemed to be going through the six-month relationship phase about a week in. But yes okay, some people might see us moving this fast as a bad thing, but I didn't. If two people like each other, why shouldn't they spend time together?

And spend time together, we did.

After our brief triste in the sea, which was hot as hell, we came to shore and grabbed a few towels and the picnic we'd packed and settled on the sand.

By the time we'd got here it was past two, so the dangerous high sun was starting to go down. It was still hot and humid but that hadn't prevented the shivers running down my spine when Jasper first saw me in my bikini. It's one Lo bought me before I came here, and it's already one of my favourites if it makes Jasper look at me like that. It was a spaghetti strap one, with triangular pieces of fabric covering my boobs and bum, and I swear his pupils visibly dilated.

While he was still getting stuff out of the car, I ran to the sea, too excited to wait. I ran and dove headlong into the sea and watched my own show as he took off his shirt and shoes and followed me in. He was looking for me, and soon found me.

The heat between us was unreal. And that meant I didn't stop him when his fingers teased their way into my bikini bottoms as he held me, nor when he eased his finger inside me, torturing me with the rhythm that pushed me over the edge. I was aroused out of my own body when he made me come, and I knew we were now connected forever.

He was mine and I was his.

***

"So what were you like as a kid?" I ask, feeding Jasper a grape.

He bites into it and kisses the pad of my index finger.

"As a kid?" He laughs and sits up slightly. "Erm. I don't really remember if I'm honest. Same as I am now probably?" He chuckles.

"Troublesome?" I laugh, "Was your first word shit or something?"

He laughs, shocked. "You swearing sends a shock straight to my dick you know," he says, completely serious. "And probably."

"I don't see it. I think you were a good kid," I say, crawling over to him and sitting with my legs across his lap.

He sits up fully and puts his arms around my back, resting his nose in the hollow at my neck as he kisses the side of my head.

"I was okay. I liked cars. And books. I've always liked books. I wrote quite a lot as well."

"You write?"

He shrugs. "Not anymore. I used to. Quite a lot actually."

"How come you stopped?" I feed myself a grape.

He shrugs again, and his jaw bounces as if I've hit a nerve. "Dunno. I just did."

I reach my hand up and stroke his cheek.

"Anyway, what about you?" He says, grabbing a bunch of grapes, feeding me a few.

"What about me?" I ask with my mouth full.

"You... are not who you seem to be Miss Reynolds."

I giggle. "Not who I seem to be? What does that even mean?"

He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and smiles. "It means I misjudged you and you've surprised me every step of the way so far."

It's one of the nicest things he's said to me so far so I peck him quickly on the cheek.

"But seriously though. Who is Libby Reynolds?"

"An existential question," I laugh again and he tips his head.

"Of sorts." He tips his head.

I think about it for a second before spiralling into the craziness that is my life. As he looks at me, there's no hint of judgement in his eyes, no hostility. It's just him. So I tell him everything.

I told him I was a surprise for my parents. They'd only wanted two, but according to Dad when they found out they were pregnant again they had to meet me. I told him about Andy and Rob, and how it was difficult growing up with brothers who are a lot older than me. Andy is ten years older, which was old enough to realise I'd be taking the attention, so he left us to it. I talked about growing up with Lo, my first and pretty much only friend through school and university. I talked about the time I broke my leg playing hockey at school, and that got him a bit curious.

"Wait, how did you break it?" He asks.

"Hockey. It bent sideways and the bone broke through the skin. It was both so gross and so cool at the same time."

"Which leg?" He asks, stroking each of my legs to try and see.

I lean left and show him the side of my right leg.

"Holy fuck," he breathes, stroking down the long scar which runs from where my knee is almost to my ankle. "That much have fucking hurt."

"Yeah," I breathe. "It still hurts sometimes because it was such a huge break."

"How long did it take to fix?"

"Months. I basically have a metal bone, which means I set off every metal detector ever, and I had to go to therapy for ages once the break healed."

"Did you ever play again?" I shake my head in response. "Not fucking surprised. Christ. The worst I did was separate my shoulder."

"I did notice you had odd shoulders," I giggle.

"Odd shoulders?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Your right is higher than your left. Is that the one that separated?" He nods.

"What did you do after hockey?"

"Swimming. I'm quite into sports actually. You can thank my brothers for that. And cars. My brother is on the waiting list for a spot on the Mercedes F1 team as a mechanic, and he built his own car from scratch."

"I bet you I can beat you in a swim though."

I narrow my eyes, "Is that a challenge?"

"You bet your ass it is."

"Where, when. Time and place make no differences to me Jasper Calhoun!"

"Now."

"Now?" I laugh. "Are you sure you want me to embarrass you?"

He looks around. "There's no one here. And besides... you won't win." He's baiting me, I can tell so I bite and jump off his lap.

"Come on then. And let's put your money where your mouth is. Loser buys dinner."

He chuckles as he stands and brushes himself off.

"Right... from here to the buoy out there and back," he points to the red buoy I can see floating about eighty metres away. "Sound good?"

"Fine. Wait hang on, will our stuff be okay?"

He nods. "Yeah. All the valuables are in the truck anyway."

"Jasper your keys are out on the blanket."

"So? It'll be fine. Come on," he saunters towards the water, beckoning me closer with a wink. "Live a little!"

There was that phrase again.

"Fine," I say again, running to catch him up as he headed towards the waves.

He draws a line in the sand with his toe, and puts his big toe lining right up against it as I do the same with mine. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and winks again. Man is he sexy in those shorts. His skin is bronzed and covered in sand and his hair is tousled and windswept. Unlike mine, his is dry from our sea session and it's dried sticking up in all different directions.

"Oi," he calls. "Stop checking me out and start the count," he chuckles, poking me gently in the side.

"Well, stop being so sexy and maybe I will," I counter, poking him right back.

I crouch down lower, going for my usual of under the water. The waves are quite choppy due to the wind, so if I have to contend against them I'll get tired. For a distance of eighty metres I'll need about five breaths, but because I don't have my goggles I'll need to make sure I line myself up.

"Three... two... one... GO!" I shout, and we both spring off the line. I head straight under water, and just as I thought when I pop up ten seconds later I'm already five metres ahead.

I keep my head above water for a few more seconds before ducking under, making sure I'm going the right way, and then I sprint off underwater, leaving him in my metaphorical dust.

I reach the buoy first and I can see him surreptitiously as I duck under the water again. Keeping my eyes open, despite the stinging, I manoeuvre myself lower, underneath him, as he swims up to the buoy and I pop up nearly twenty metres further on. I'm way ahead, so I slow down with a smile before ducking under again for the last section, before getting out to run up the beach and wait for him.

When he emerges from the sea, he shakes his head and walks back towards me.

"Fucking hell, you're like a fish. I felt you swim right under me when I got to the buoy," he chuckles. "Holy shit, Lib your eyes." His face goes really serious.

They were really sore from opening them but it was just the salt. "It's okay, it'll go down."

"They're really red." He steps towards me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"They'll be fine. Have we got any water actually? I might just go wash them. Can you help?" I ask.

"Yeah of course," he says without hesitation and runs to the blanket.

As he'd promised, none of our stuff had been touched, and he grabs the bottle of water. He washes his hands first and then walks back over to me.

"It's cold. Is that okay?" He asks.

"It'll have to be. Ah!" I flinch involuntarily as I open it wider to let him squirt a droplet into it.

"Fuck. Sorry. Right, here we go," he whispers, holding my eye open gently, dropping three separate droplets into one and lets me blink a couple of times before repeating the process.

Once he'd done it four times he tucks the bottle under his arm and tips my head forward to check my eyes. They felt a bit better but from the look he gives me, I'm guessing they were still red.

"They feel better," I smile, stroking his stomach comfortingly. "They'll come down soon. I can blink without it hurting now," I shrug. It still felt like there was something in it, and he was blurry in my left eye, but it wasn't stinging, so that was something.

"Okay. But we should still probably keep washing them. Or next time we race with goggles," he says, kissing my forehead.

"How come your eyes are fine?" I ask, gesturing to his perfectly white eyes compared to my red, raw ones.

"Didn't open my eyes. And I pretty much kept my eyes above water," he snorts whilst kissing my neck.

I giggle as he starts to tickle me, "What are you doing?" I push away from him but he hooks an arm around me and lifts me easily with one arm.

"Checking for gills," he says. "I'm calling you Fish from now on."

"Fish?" I snort. "Wow. I suppose it's not the worst nickname I've ever had."

He now has me cradled in his arms and I kiss his nose. His arms are strong as he carries me effortlessly back towards the truck.

"Wait. Where are we going?" I ask as he puts me down.

He laughs at me as I pout when he puts me down and hands me my stuff to get changed into.

"Dinner," he shrugs and nods to the little town up the road.

"Dinner? But it's..." I stop when I check my watch. It's five already.

"Yeah the place closes early so we'll get takeout and eat it in the truck."

"We're not leaving yet are we?" I pout and he ruffles a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back off his forehead.

"Nah. Night's only just beginning."

***

We walk over to the restaurant, which seems to be the only one in town given how busy it is.

Heads all turn as we come in, seeing as we're not locals, but Jasper doesn't seem to notice as he asks the waitress if they do takeout. She shakes her head and then he asks if it's okay to sit in just shorts and flip flops. She nods and then directs us to a table near the back by the window.

I tail Jasper closely, hooking index finger around his little finger, and we weave our way, following the waitress. I feel extremely self-conscious and as we sit, my cheeks are definitely red. As we take a seat, he gives our table neighbours sour looks, and after a few minutes the gawping ceases and the conversations resume.

"Friendly bunch," Jasper says loudly and he gets a tut from the old lady next to us.

I kick him and he chuckles, making me realise he's doing it on purpose. I'm going to have to get used to this.

"Anything look good?" He asks, taking my hand over the table.

"I'll be honest. I'm having trouble reading it,"
I say sheepishly and his face looks worried. "I'm just going to wash my eyes again in the bathroom. Can you order?"

He nods, but I get the feeling he wants to come with me as he looks around warily.

"I'll be fine," I assure him but it doesn't work.

"What do you want?"

"Surprise me," I smile. "Anything but oysters or cauliflower and I'll eat it."

He nods as I walk away, my eyes stinging beyond belief.

"Hi, where are your bathrooms?" I ask the lady on the bar.

She points behind her and I see the sign for them.

"Thank you," I smile sweetly and walk into the bathroom.

When I look in the mirror, I'm not surprised I can barely see. My right eye is looking better, but my left eye is now completely red. It feels swollen too, but as I wash it over and over again, I notice there's grains of something coming out of it, which actually looks like sand. I sigh with relief when I've wiped it over two dozen times, when no extra grains come out.

As I take a final look, the eye is still raw when I look at it, but I wet a piece of towel and bring it out with me to the table.

Jasper is looking out the window when I sit back down, and he whips his head back round to me when I put my hand in his.

"Much better," I smile with a sigh, and it was the truth. My eye felt a lot better than it did five minutes ago.

He smiles but it doesn't touch his eyes.

"What did you get me?"

His smile grows wider and I see a glint of humour spark across them.

"Oyster and Cauliflower stew," he shrugs.

I snort a laugh and swat at his hand.

"Great, I look forward to eating yours then."

***

We laugh together, ignoring everyone around us, and we actually have a great time. He's completely at ease with me, and I still can't believe the change in him after just a few days. Sure, his temper flares within seconds, but I know he'll calm within seconds again if I ask him to.

He's ordered me a seafood chowder, and I'm genuinely impressed, especially when he's ordered himself a rare and bloody steak. I scoff down my chowder quickly, and start picking at his chips.

"Oi!" He shouts. "No, you can't have a fry," he laughs, pretending to bat my hand away, although I get away with four and dip them in what's left of my soup.

I giggle as he protects his food, taking enormous mouthfuls to reiterate his chips were off limits.

"Jasper. Please can I have another chip?"

"Chip?" He laughs. "Oh yeah, I forgot they're not fries in England." But he does relent, allowing me to continue to pick off his plate. "Chips are crisps there right?" I nod.

"But we rule at crisps. When I go back I'll bring you back all kinds of flavours," I laugh.

"What's the most outrageous one you have?"

I think about it and my eyes light up.

"Haggis and black pepper."

"Haggis? What the fuck is that?"

"Sheep's stomach with barley and other stuff." I say it as deadpan as possible and Jasper just laughs.

"Are you fucking with me?"

I laugh, "Nope. Genuinely. It's actually really nice. It's Scottish."

"Ew, fuck. You're weirder than I thought," he chuckles back to me.

"Hey, you have to try it for yourself before you pass judgement. That's how we tried it."

"What?"

I giggle. "My mum gave it to us when I was about nine I think. She put it in front of us with mash, peas and gravy and asked us to eat it. She said if we liked it, she'd tell us what was in it," I shrug as I take another chip from his plate.

"Well, I ain't fucking eating that shit," he chuckles, sticking his finger in my bowl and taking a lick of the rest of my chowder.

"You want anything else, Fish?"

I smile at his nickname for me. I wouldn't usually like it if it had come from people at school, but from him it was cute and I could get used to it.

"I could look at dessert?" I suggest and he rolls his eyes, getting up to grab a menu from the counter.

He returns with a small piece of paper. "All they have is ice cream," he says, putting the sheet in front of me.

"Bloody hell. Millions of flavours though. What is it with this country and billions of flavours of ice cream?" I shake my head as I examine the list.

"Ooooh blood orange."

"Yeah?" I nod enthusiastically and he grins and turns.

"Hey!" He yells over the crowd. "Two scoops of blood orange ice cream!"

The girl huffs but nods, ducking behind the counter before returning two minutes later with a large bowl; two massive scoops and two spoons.

"And can we grab the bill?" Jasper asks as she walks away. She nods and he turns back to me.

"Owh this isn't the end is it?" I ask. I hadn't meant to say it out loud but I couldn't hide my disappointment.

He takes a huge mouthful of ice cream and then grins at me, his cheeks full like a hamster.

"This is only the start."