f o r t y
*
An hour later, Kristin and Klara peddle back to shore and the five of us sit round a table with sandwiches from the boathouse. Arjun laughs at the way I sit, one foot pulled up under me and the other slung over the arm of the chair, until Klara sprawls sideways in her seat, both legs flung over one metal arm while the other digs into her back.
"Yo, March," Klara says, balancing a juice carton on her stomach and tucking her chin against her chest to drink it hands-free. "Has your little sister been digging through any more of my photos?"
"Not to my knowledge," I say, "but it's highly likely. Once Flo gets a bee in her bonnet, there's no stopping her."
"What'd you tell her?" Arjun asks. I open my mouth to answer and realise that I never replied to Flo's messages. Shit. She's gonna be so mad at me. Untangling myself from my surprisingly comfortable position, I dig my phone out of my back pocket and load up my chat with Flo to see that there are two new messages I missed.
FLO: are you ignoring me??
FLO: i am VERY MAD AT YOU this is so disrespectful march. If you dont answr me im gonn ahave to assume that youre so in love youre too busy kissing arjun to reply to your favourite sister.
She's not far wrong, and I know exactly what will answer her questions and shut her up for a minute. I load up my camera and pass my phone to Young-mi; she looks at it, bemused.
"Take a picture," I say, and I swing one leg over Arjun's knees to sit on his lap. My hands on his cheeks, fingers in his hair, I kiss him, my nose nudging his glasses, and a moment later he loops his arms around my back and clasps his hands over the base of my spine.
His laugh breaks our kiss and when I pull away, leaving his glasses askew, his eyes are sparkling and a broad grin is pushing deep dimples into his cheeks.
"Not that I didn't enjoy that," he says, "but I get the feeling you have an ulterior motive."
"What makes you think that?" I lean back and drape my arms over his shoulders.
"Well, I'm pretty sure you're just trying to torment your sister."
"Never," I say.
Young-mi passes my phone back to me and says, "You are liar. You have new message from your sister."
One hand on the back of Arjun's neck, I reach out to take my phone from her outstretched hand and see the photos she took of us. It's strange to see myself kissing Arjun on my screen in side profile; I feel like a celebrity playing up for the paparazzi, even though I asked Young-mi for the picture.
My little sister is relentless, my phone buzzing with yet another message. I should probably put my phone on silent and stick it in my backpack and enjoy what little time I have left of this trip, but I can't ignore her.
FLO: i cant believe youre reading my texts and ignoring me. the only good reason is that youre making out with your new boyfriend otherwise youre so MEAN
FLO: 3 days until you're home!! i would be more excited if i wasn't mad at you rn
"And you worry about my sister being intense," Arjun says, nodding at my screen. I awkwardly slide off his lap and drop into the seat next to him, resting my sore ankle on my knee.
"Florence is twelve; you can't be scared of a twelve-year-old," I say as I send one of the photos to her and the second the blue ticks indicate that she's seen it, I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and zip it into my bag.
"I beg to differ," Klara says. "Twelve to sixteen-year-olds are the scariest. They're so loud and confident."
We all give her a look at that. Kristin scoffs. Her twin is the loudest and most confident person I've met.
Arjun traces his thumb over the back of my hand. "You know you're gonna give Flo a heart attack. It's adorable, and slightly terrifying, that she's so obsessed with the thought of us being together, but she might actually collapse when she sees that."
"It might shut her up for a while." I stretch out my arms and screw up my face in a yawn, and I lift my legs to rest my feet on Arjun's knees.
"What do I do to shut you up for a while?"
"Oh, I think you know." I give him a wink. He purses his lips. Klara screws up her nose.
"Come on, guys. Keep it in your pants. We only have twenty-four hours left together." She claps her hands and hauls herself to her feet, and she stands behind me to push my shoulder. "Time to make the most of our time here."
*
After a ten-minute walk, we end up at the Japanese tea gardens within the park and as much as I'd love to just chill by the pond and take a nap, the twins have other plans. We walk for another ten minutes to a bus stop on the north side of the park, thanks to Kristin's flawless directions, and we drag ourselves onto a bus that takes half an hour to carry us to the Palace of Fine Arts.
The route takes us via the Golden Gate Bridge viewing point, where the sky is a little greyer and a little foggier, the top of the bridge barely visible. We seem to have arrived at a good time earlier, when there was still a hint of blue. It's still hot, but it's a thick, grey heat.
I have to take a break when we make it to the palace, which looks more like some kind of old ruin set on the edge of the Presidio National Park. My ankle's playing up, twinging a little with each step because I should probably be resting it for another couple of weeks, rather than traipsing up and down San Francisco.
With a huff, I shrug off my bag, sit down on a bench, and stick out my leg. Arjun stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders, his thumbs kneading my skin in a moment of silence. I tip my head back against his stomach and close my eyes; he brushes my hair off my forehead and he leans over me to kiss the space between my eyebrows.
It feels like forever that we stay like that. It's probably only a minute or two before he steps over the bench to sit next to me, slinging his arm around my shoulders and draping his hand over my chest, and he rests his temple against mine.
"How's your ankle?" Arjun asks, breaking the silence with his soft murmur.
"It's been better." I roll it round and round, slow and steady, and wince when it starts to ache again. "It's been worse, too, but I don't think I'm quite ready for too much city stomping yet."
"Maybe you should be on bed rest."
His words may be innocent but his tone isn't; it puts a sly smile on my lips.
"You've certainly got something on your mind."
"Can you blame me?" His lips are close to my ear; I feel his stubble bristle against my jaw and my fingers move to touch my itchy skin where his prickly facial hair tickles me. Arjun rubs his chin. "I know, I need a shave."
"I kind of like it."
"You'll have to," he says with a laugh. "I think I lost my razor back in Yosemite. Unless you have one I can borrow?"
I cluck my tongue and run a hand over my hairless jaw. "Apparently my face never got the whole puberty memo," I joke. "Maybe someday I'll grow enough hair to shave but until then, I don't have a razor to be borrowed."
"Then it's bristle for as long as I can stand it before I have to run to the closest CVS."
"Look at you, sounding all American."
He slips into a flawless American accent – the standard one, the kind I hear on every television programme that could be from anywhere in the country – when he says, "Speaking of CVS, we might need to head there before tonight."
I pair his words with their meaning and I say, "I've got that covered."
"You have? Already?" His eyebrows leap up higher than his glasses and he twists slightly to look at me. I realise how that sounds; he's probably thinking I was a presumptuous arsehole.
"Remember when Young-mi gave us the drinks and cards in Vegas?"
"Yes..."
"And you gave me a bag of stuff that you said she told you I asked for?"
"I do. Is this going where I think it is? Were you looking to get lucky that night?"
"No! No, I wasn't," I say with a laugh. "I didn't ask her for anything but she was very into the idea of us and she knew how much I liked you, and apparently she thought we were gonna hook up when you asked for alcohol, so she gave me condoms and lube."
Arjun splutters. "Jesus. Wow. I mean, I'd've been surprised a few days ago but now? That's starting to seem pretty on brand for her." He's slowly shaking his head. "Saved us a bit of dough, huh? That stuff isn't cheap."
"I know! God, I was so mortified when I opened that bag," I say, "but at least we're covered. Literally."
His arm goes back around my shoulders and I feel his lips against my temple, his warm breath on my cheek when he lets out a sigh; his hand slides up my arm to my shoulder and his fingers graze over my neck. Goosebumps erupt all over my body, a shiver shimmying its way down my spine like a trickle of water sliding down by back, and I lean into him.
My dad once told me that falling in love is the most brilliant pain, that it was a feeling he never had to question. He just knew; he understood the fierce swelling in his chest and the light-headedness and it just made sense, and I get it, I really do. Being here with Arjun feels right; the thought of us getting on separate planes home makes me feel queasy, just plain wrong. I don't have to dig deep and poke at my heart to know that I'm falling in love with him because I just know it, as surely as I know that I am March, as surely as I know that I'm in San Francisco.
It's at once overwhelming and uplifting and it shouldn't knock me sideways because I've been in love before; I fell for Lily and George was my everything, but I still feel as though everything's been turned on its head, everything's different and yet I still recognise these feelings instantly. That love and this love is ... it's like a beanbag and a bench. They may look totally different, but I know instinctively that they're both seats.
"You're very deep in thought," Arjun murmurs.
"Mmm."
He taps the side of my head. "Anything interesting going on in there?"
"Nothing new. Thinking about you."
"I didn't know you were a poet."
"I just don't show it."
"You're on fire."
"'Cause you inspire ... me," I say, ending on a bit of a flat note. I turn my head and my lips find his, and I close my eyes to languish in a lazy kiss with the sun beating down on us from somewhere amidst the haze.
"You're cute," he says.
"Not so bad yourself."
I peel away reluctantly and stand up, leaning a little more heavily on my left foot, and when Arjun stands, I loop my arm through his. It's hard to resist pulling him into a hug and resting my head on his shoulder but I've got two more full days with him and a lot less time with Young-mi and the twins.
I hear Klara before I spot her waving us over from across the lake and when we make it to her and the others a couple of minutes later, we're pulled into a selfie. She has long arms, ideal for capturing a photo of the five of us – and for throwing around Young-mi when we're all pressed together.
Tomorrow, nine becomes three. And in a little over two days, I'll be getting on a flight back to England, all on my own.
It takes a lot of effort not to get a bit emotional at the thought; I have to swallow hard and press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to keep my feelings at bay as I try to grin for Klara's photos. Perhaps most impressively, I manage to keep my balance as we pose on the edge of the lake.
Most shocking is that I'm not the one who falls in with a splash and a yell.
One minute, Arjun's standing next to me, leaning forward to get in the frame of the shot, and the next, he gasping and splashing as he rights himself and scrambles out of the green water. I'm paralysed in shock, my mouth wide open; Klara is wheezing with laughter; Kristin has her hand around Arjun's wrist and she's hauling him out.
"What the fuck just happened?" I cry out when I get my words back.
"I lost my balance," Arjun says. He's completely sodden from head to toe, his clothes waterlogged and his hair dripping down his face. At least he left his bag on the bank for the photo, else his phone and everything else would be totally ruined. "I think maybe we've spent too much time together."
"Are you ok?"
"Fine and dandy. No sprained ankle or head wound," he says, wringing out his t-shirt. I take his glasses and clean them on my top, wiping off the murky smears until they're as clean as I can get them. "A bit soggy, though."
"That's an understatement."
Behind us, the water is rippling and the ducks have scattered, and several pockets of tourists are staring at us, but they glance away when I glare at them.
"We might need to head back to the hotel," Arjun says, peeling off his top to properly wring it out. Now, I imagine, everyone's staring for an entirely different reason: beneath his wet clothes, he's hiding one hell of a physique.
"If you wanted to get rid of us," Klara says, "there were easier ways to go about that."
Kristin, the pragmatist, whips out her phone. "There's a bus stop a few minutes away that'll take us right near the hotel. We can all head back and once you're cleaned up, we could grab some food and take it to the other side of the bridge?"
"Sounds good," Arjun says, "but I'm not sure I'll be allowed on a bus looking like I just swam here from Alcatraz."
"Oh! I have a t-shirt!" I blurt out when I suddenly remember, and I rifle through my bag to find a crumpled but clean top right at the bottom. "It might be a bit tight but..."
I will definitely not be complaining.
"Cheers. It's something." He tugs it on and fuck, it really is tight. The sopping one he took off is a medium; I just handed him an extra small. It's almost pornographically tight, and weirdly sexy. I can see his nipples through the stretched white fabric, and every outline of every tight muscle.
Klara nudges me. "Stop eye-fucking in public."
"Klara." I nudge her back, harder. She grabs onto me to stop from toppling into the lake; miraculously, neither of us fall.
"I have spare shorts," Kristin says. "They might be a bit small, and they are a bit girly, but they'll stretch, and they're dry."
She hands him a pair of hot pink cotton shorts, a lot shorter than what he's used to, and he shamelessly switches into them as we shield him from the pervy tourists who must think we're performing some kind of ritual.
I can't put my finger on why, but there's something incredibly hot about Arjun in tiny pink shorts stretched to their max, fuchsia cotton clinging to his damp thighs and leaving very little to the imagination. Not that I need to imagine when I know exactly what I'll find underneath.
"How do I look?" He strikes a pose, a hand on his hip and the other held up, one foot on tiptoes.
"You're pulling it off," I say.
He winks. "Not yet."
Kristin eyes us. "I love your confidence," she says, "and I'm very happy for you two, that you found each other, but please keep it in your pants. It's bad enough spending so much time with Klara."
"Hey! I'm not that bad."
Her sister gives her a damning look. "You're worse than a dog in heat."
"Ok, ok, let's not get bitchy," Arjun says, grinning at his pun. His amusement at his own jokes is a lot funnier than the actual jokes. "Thank you for the shorts and the t-shirt, but I'll be able to breathe better and not worry about being done for indecent exposure once I've changed into my own clothes, so let's go and find that bus."
*
The girls wait down in the lobby while Arjun and I head up to our room. We're alone in the lift and once we ping past the tenth floor, eleven to go, I glance at him and bite my bottom lip.
"You sure you want to change?"
His expression is a cross between surprise and concern and he looks down at himself. "You like this?"
"Yeah. You look good in pink."
"Mmm, I think I agree," he says, "but girls' shorts don't have much give." He tries to pull them down a bit, tugging at the narrow gusset. "I'm at high risk of revealing more than I want to."
"Looking pretty good to me."
"I look like a hot dog stuffed through a button hole," he says. "I'm not sure how compatible we are when it comes to clothes-sharing – I'm pretty sure I've already stretched out your top."
"The skin tight look suits you."
"Don't get yourself too hot and bothered," he warns. "The girls are waiting for us, and they know how long this lift takes." He wags a finger at me. "I'm gonna have the world's quickest shower and I'm gonna change, and we're heading straight back downstairs – I want to see the other side of the bridge."
We get to our room. I slump on my bed – our bed, even though there are two – while he washes, and I make idle conversation while he changes into something a little less form-fitting, yet still incredibly sexy. It's the return of the loose linen shirt and the tight beige shorts, the shirt half-untucked in a way I reckon is part fashion and partly an attempt to hide the bulge in his pants.
"Get your mind out of the gutter," he says as he rubs his hair with a hand towel. "Whatever you're thinking, save it for later."
"I was thinking that you look like you belong in an Italian orangery in the nineties."
"Oh."
"And that I wanna rip your shirt off."
"Oh..."
He pulls me off the bed and spins me around, and he laughs when he catches me by my waist and slips his hand into my back pocket. "Come on, you. Let's find the girls and go."
"Off on a trip to Sausalito," I finish. He purses his kissable lips and squeezes my arse.
"I see my favourite poet is back." We leave our room and get back in the lift, alone again, and Arjun tilts his head to kiss my jaw. "I'll give you something to rhyme about."
I don't know what he means by that, but I definitely want to find out.
*
i hope you enjoy this! apologies for it being a little late; i'm a bit behind with writing! below you can find a whole bunch of photos from the trip (and some more recent ones of san francisco) and if you scroll far enough, you may spy a little teaser for my next book ... ;)
and now for a little teaser
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