An hour and a half into the game, Becca drops her meagre collection of property cards on the table.

"I suck at this!" she complains. "You two have all the cards. Don't they, Jase?"

"You can share mine," he replies. "We'll play together if that's okay?"

"No problem." Even together, they won't beat me; Nate's my only rival.

The game continues and Becca switches to flirting with Jason, touching his arm and moving progressively closer as she "helps" him with the game. At one point, Nate makes a soft amused sound and we exchange a small, knowing smile at the humour in their will she, won't she behaviour. The atmosphere between Nate and me swaps between serious compet.i.tion to teasing jokes over trips to jail, as we triumphantly take money from each other.

Nate s.n.a.t.c.hes a Community Chest card from my hand before I have a chance to read. "Ha. You won second prize in a beauty contest!" I brace myself for the oncoming sarcasm, but instead, he taps the card against his chin. "Kinda see why. Should've been first prize."

"Smooth!" laughs Jason and hands me the prize money from the bank.

The whisky gla.s.s besides Nate's several empty beer gla.s.ses increases his volume and humour as the game progresses, and I avoid making this worse by not responding to his dig at me. I pa.s.s the dice to Jason.

"A rock star tells her she's beautiful, and she ignores him!" Nate throws his hands up in mock despair, and Becca grins at me.

Oh, G.o.d.

"Thank you, Nate," I mutter.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And I'm a s.e.xy f.u.c.ker too, right?"

"You need me to tell you that? Open the internet, Nate, plenty of girls on there will confirm your statement."

He snorts and drains his gla.s.s. "Whatever. Another?" He gestures at the empty gla.s.ses on the table.

The couple lapse into silence when Nate walks back to the bar. I neaten my pile of money, irritated that Nate has returned to his usual behaviour around me. Jason excuses himself and heads to the bathrooms.

"You and him?" I ask, inclining my head in Jason's direction. "What's happening?"

Becca's cheeks flush. "Nothing."

"Liar! Have you kissed him yet?"

"Once. Years ago."

"I think he wants to kiss you again, and more."

"Do you?"

I laugh. "It's obvious." Becca's pretty in an understated way, pet.i.te and curvy, and Jason frequently stares at these curves when she's unaware. "Maybe he saw your star-struck looks at Nate and decided he'd better lift his game."

Becca shakes her head. "Nate's a nice guy."

I just about choke on my vodka tonic. "Really?"

"Really helpful with Val and George, he dug a path halfway out the front without anybody asking him." She pauses. "And he hasn't hit on me. Jase needn't worry about that."

Which of those statements surprise me the most? "I'm happy to hear he hasn't."

"Nate wouldn't with you here."

"Oh, I'm inclined to say he's more likely to with me here."

Becca sips her drink. "You two are hard to figure out. You've hardly spoken since you arrived; but every time you're together, there's this... thing. I don't know how to explain it. Now you're being nice to each other maybe that'll change things between you too?"

"We've known each other a while; we don't get along very well."

"A love to hate him thing, huh?" She grins. "You know that you can't hate someone pa.s.sionately unless part of you loves them too."

I smile at her internet meme sentiments and don't reply.

Nate returns and pulls the stool closer to me, as he half-drops the refilled whisky gla.s.s onto the table. He indicates Jason's cards. "These two are nearly out of cash. Down to me and you, Riley."

"I'm winning," I tell him.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Nate's eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. "You win, you get the bed."

"Who says I wasn't going to take the bed anyway?"

"I can't sleep on the f.u.c.king sofa again!"

"I'm sure I'll be in bed before you finish your night of drinking; you won't have any choice."

"Try me," he says in a low voice. "Because I'll get in with you."

"You will not!"

"Then it's your choice. I don't care if you're in the bed; I just want a decent sleep. Bed's big enough. I won't touch you. If it offends you, Smiley, sleep somewhere else."

I swallow down the retort he's waiting for and roll the dice, aware of the silent discomfort of the other players at the table.

"I think I'm done now, actually," says Jason. "Becca's bored." She frowns at him. "Want to watch some TV?"

Becca's frown switches to a coy smile. "Sure."

As they walk away, Nate calls, "Make sure you're out of there by eleven. Riley goes to bed early and she'll need the sofa."

Calming breaths.

Deep calming breaths.

I shift to the seat Becca was in, away from Nate. He pouts at me.

"Why do that?" I snap.

"What?"

"Make a big deal out of everything in front of people. They could see you were being a jerk too. I bet Jason would give the bed up for Becca."

"I bet Jason's planning how to get her naked."

"Well, they were uncomfortable with your behaviour."

"Whatever."

Nate rolls the dice and moves his piece, and we retreat behind our walls again. I'd leave if I didn't want to prove a point here. He lands on my Old Kent Road s.p.a.ce, covered in hotels, and I smugly tell him how much he owes me. Nate pushes the money across the table and I gulp down my drink, suddenly enjoying the game more with everybody else away. Especially as I'm winning.

The problem with Monopoly and two skilled players is the time taken. The problem with the time taken is the alcohol imbued. I'm not drunk, but my sharp edges are definitely smoothed and my frown has lessened. We banter back and forth as our success in the game moves up and down.

In the s...o...b..und pub, playing a board game, we're at the edge of our reality and we're suddenly speaking to each other like normal people.

"Hmm." Nate drops his cards on the table and stares at the board.

"Give up?" I ask.

"Shush, I'm thinking."

I eye Nate's pile of money and mortgaged cards, then pick up mine to count.

"Riley."

"Mmm."

"I'm sorry."

I lose count of my money with my surprise at his words. "What do you mean? I'm pretty sure I'm winning."

"No. About being here." I look up. Nate frowns into his gla.s.s, swirling the amber-coloured contents. "And about the accident. Must've freaked you out."

Wow, Nate must be drunker than he looks. "Thank you for the apology. Accepted."

He laughs softly and looks up at me with intense eyes. "Formal. Always formal."

"Around my clients, yes."

"Clients." He knocks back the whisky again. "Are you like this with all your clients?"

"Stuck in a pub on the Yorkshire Moors playing board games? No."

"Sometimes business and pleasure are hard to keep apart, huh?"

"Are you referring to now or another time, Nate?"

"Both."

I bite the edge of my lip, but it doesn't prevent the next words, pushed out by my lessened inhibitions. "Are you going to apologise for that time too? About Paris and how you behaved afterwards?"

"Me apologise? You screwed with my head."

"Screwed with your head? What the h.e.l.l?"

"The night I came to Hard Rock because I wanted to see you."

"Oh? When we had the chat in the bathrooms?" I make inverted commas with my fingers around chat. "That was a nice try."

"You were interested."

"Oh yeah, really interested until the dirty, disrespectful talk started and reminded me I was about to get used."

"See, that's the other thing. I don't remember much about the situation either. Why did you react like that even though we'd spent time together before? It wasn't like it was another quick f.u.c.k. I respected you."

"Seriously, Nate? You were sleeping with other girls almost daily. I came to my senses. I didn't want to be on your list. That's why I stopped."

"No, how you reacted afterwards. The next day. You wouldn't talk to me. For a week." His frown deepens.

"Might be something to do with the fact I saw a groupie with her mouth around your d.i.c.k an hour later! Remember?"

Nate stares. Blinks. "No. What the h.e.l.l? Where?"

"Outside. Cla.s.sy. Saw you when I was leaving. You seriously expected me to respect and like you after you failed with me and f.u.c.ked another girl instead? I had nothing to say to you."

"s.h.i.t." Nate drags a hand through his hair. "I don't remember that girl. I was wasted that night. Honestly."

My mouth thins. "Wow, this gets better," I say sarcastically. "I knew you weren't listening to me when I told you about her when we spoke a few days later!"

"Spoke? Are you kidding? You yelled at me, Riley. All I heard was 'blah blah groupies, you're a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, leave me alone, b.i.t.c.h, b.i.t.c.h'. I kinda switched off when you were shouting at me. I thought you meant the chick I was with a couple of days later."

"No, Nate. The same night. I guess your pride took a dent and you needed your ego and d.i.c.k rubbing."

I keep my low, matter of fact tone but at the time I saw him, I almost threw up. In that moment, Nate proved my point that I meant nothing. The problem was, he already had a grip on my heart I denied.

"Man, that's f.u.c.ked up. Sorry, Riley."

I blink at him. "A bit late, but thanks."

Nate rubs an eyebrow but doesn't look at me.

"Yeah."