Plus One is a Lucky Number. Teresa Morgan F.
hey, let’s look at it as acting, okay? Actors do it all the time.”
“True.”
“We both know the score here. Besides this was James’ idea, he can hardly judge.”
Sophie nodded. He’s right. We’re just acting. So you happen to enjoy it, a little. It is nice to know what it feels like being on Adam’s arm, even if it‘s a charade. And remember, even though he’s kissed me, he hasn’t crossed any lines. Not really. Not like Simon. Or had it been in her imagination? Earlier this evening seemed so long ago now, she could barely remember it.
Adam stood there quietly, intrigued, still watching her. Did he want to ask her something?
“What?” She turned to face him.
Adam gently shook himself, as if out of his daydream. “Huh?”
“You’re watching me as if a woman removing her make-up is actually fascinating. Surely you’ve seen plenty of girls remove their make-up, right?” She laughed lightly, looking back into the mirror. She couldn’t imagine Adam not having a girlfriend, not when he kissed like that. Dear Lord, what else would he be good at?
Don’t even go there.
For a moment he didn’t answer. He looked at the floor then glanced back into the mirror to meet her eye. She would never tire of his blue eyes. They were his best feature. Although handsome, his eyes lit up his face, gave it that extra sparkle. Made him stand out from all the rest. And added to his smile … Sophie didn’t stand a chance.
“You’d be surprised actually. They seem to want to lock themselves away,” he replied, shrugging his shoulder. “I go out with the kind of women who don’t like to be seen without their make-up.”
“Oh.”
Adam stepped into the bathroom, then hesitated. “Sophie, I’m going to sound bang out of order here, but what did you see in Simon?”
Sophie stared at all her different cosmetic bottles. Every bit of make-up she’d brought with her was in its place. She’d unpacked it on one side of the large vanity area by the sink, while Adam had his toiletries on the other side. She checked some of the caps were on properly, stood up a couple of bottles that had fallen over. She didn’t really know how to answer him.
“You’re an intelligent woman. I don’t understand it.” He took off his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Sophie did her best not to gape. “Look, if you don’t want to answer that, then fine. I just don’t get it. I’ll go make up my bed.” Adam turned to walk out of the bathroom.
“I was young, stupid … I don’t know.” She turned to face him, resting against the sink. “It was my last year in college, just finishing my A-Levels, and Simon kept on asking me out. Eventually I said yes. He was a popular guy in town. Believe it or not, he was a good catch. Maybe I got carried away that he was older. I couldn’t really believe he wanted to go out with me, but I agreed, thinking it might stop him hounding me.” She chuckled. “A couple of dates, he’d get bored and leave me alone after that.”
Adam nodded, letting her speak. He’d moved closer, leaning against the wall with his hands folded in front of him. If she’d been more sober, maybe his handsome looks would have scared her from opening up, but she felt relaxed in his presence. He was safe.
“And on our first date, we hit it off. I didn’t even expect it. He charmed me, swept me off my feet. We had more in common than I realised. He treated me like a princess.” Sort of, she thought, some of the memories coming back. “He wasn't like what you're seeing now. Our relationship became intense, we couldn't stop seeing one another. We had to be with each other – the whole summer. I thought he was the one. And, once I’d truly fallen in love with him, bam. I came home one day and found him in bed with another woman.”
And that’s when his excuses came. She wasn’t good enough, didn’t love enough, they weren’t compatible. She was too cold.
Adam ran a hand through his hair as she turned away from him. She fiddled once again with things she didn't need to fiddle with. That memory, brought to the surface so quickly, had filled her eyes with tears. She fought to hold them in and it stung. She would not shed another tear over Simon; she’d sworn it a long time ago. She swallowed and with it the pressure behind her eyes ceased. “I know I probably look like I‘m overreacting here.”
“No, you don’t; he hurt you.” Adam quickly responded, stepping closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. Before she realised what she was doing, she cushioned her head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her, gently rubbing her back. His scent filled her lungs, his protection enveloping her. It intoxicated her.
“He freaked me out earlier.”
“What? How?” Adam made her look at him.
“It’s probably my imagination. Forget it.” She shook her head. “Look, I need some privacy now. I’ll get my pyjamas and change in here; you can change in the bedroom, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” He let Sophie pass. She couldn’t meet his gaze. “Hey, Sophie, I’m sorry. It was none of my business.”
“No, you need to know, really. You’re right. To pull this weekend off, make us look believable, you need to know everything.” She went to a chest of drawers, pulled out some cotton pyjamas and walked back into the bathroom.
“I’ll go get changed then and make up my bed.” Adam moved out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Ten minutes later, Sophie emerged from the bathroom, wearing her blue-striped cotton pyjamas, carrying the clothes she’d been wearing that evening.
The lighting had been dimmed. The overhead light turned off, only a lamp by the side of the bed was on. Adam had got some blankets from the wardrobe and was laying them over the chaise longue. Sophie hid her surprised expression. He was wearing some black pyjama bottoms and a dark grey T-shirt. She very much doubted he usually wore anything in bed.
“Hope you don’t mind, I grabbed a couple of pillows off the bed,” he said, puffing them up and placing them at the top end of the couch.
“Not at all.” She placed her clothes tidily on a chair by the dressing table.
“Right, I’ll use the bathroom.” And he disappeared into the room, closing the door behind him.
Sophie pulled the sheets back to the enormous bed and got in, puffing the pillows up behind her. Adam soon reappeared from the bathroom.
“Night,” he said as he got into his bed.
“Adam, you sure you're okay on that sofa?” She watched him try to get comfortable.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Sophie leaned over and turned the lamp off. She shuffled to get comfortable, pulling the sheets up over her.
She lay there, in the dark. Hotel rooms were always so dark. No streetlights – although a rarity here on the coastal edges of Cornwall – could stream in through the thick lined curtains. Blackness. If it was a clear night, the stars would be on full display. She closed her eyes. Adam on that couch. His feet dangling off the end …
She let out a sigh and switched the lamp back on.
“What’s up?”
“Adam, this is ridiculous. We’re both two mature adults. This bed is huge. It can practically sleep a whole football team in here, and still have plenty of room.”
“Now you’re exaggerating.”
“Please, get in this bed.”
“I’m fine, honest.”
“You can’t sleep on that sofa!” She jumped out of the bed, her hands on her hips, defiant. “There is so much room in this bed. I won't be able to sleep knowing you‘re on that thing. I feel guilty enough as it is.”
“Sophie,