Page 25 of The Next Chapter

I grab my suncream and step out of the cottage at the same time that Noah leaves his.

He’s changed too and now he’s wearing shorts with a light blue loose-fitting sports T-shirt.

Full coverage would have been better, for obvious reasons.

But I don’t want him to die of heat stroke.

That would be unfortunate. I’ll just have to keep my ogling to a minimum. It’s hard to run and ogle as it is.

I start absolutely dousing myself in suncream.

‘Are you happy to set the pace?’ Noah asks while I’m mid-dousing.

I nod.

‘That’s a lot of suncream,’ he comments.

‘I’ve been in the shade all morning and you can never be too careful when it comes to skin cancer,’ I reply. ‘Want some?’

‘Okay thanks.’ The edges of our fingers brush as I hand over the bottle.

I don’t look up in case I give myself away, but I catch him stealing glances at me while he puts a few splodges of the factor fifty cream here and there.

Possibly because I am very much enamoured with him applying the cream.

What can I say? I find his dedication to protecting his skin from the sun’s UV rays very sexy. Very sexy indeed.

I do a few more covert stretches, mainly to distract myself. Noah seems good to go, straight off the bat.

I set off, heading down towards the loch, taking it steady. I might not be able to scale mountains with any sort of finesse, but I can do this. I usually do this, three times a week.

The path starts out fine. A little narrow maybe, and it’s not a nice bit of tarmac like I’m used to, but it’s decent enough for a fun run.

‘I think head left and go round that way,’ Noah says from behind me.

I can hear his footsteps thump thump thump onto the ground.

There are a few people down by the edge of the water, on its pebbly shore.

I see Lola there, talking to a man I vaguely recognize.

I raise my hand at them as we turn to run with our backs to them.

Underfoot, the path changes. It’s now a thin strip of depressed grass that I stick to like glue, falling into a rhythm as I hear Noah behind me, breathing steady.

I’m tempted to accept that running here in Skye, where I’m not dodging trams or careering around bikes, I can relax into it.

It’s beautiful. I think Noah’s idea for the race would be a good one. Lola could charge an entrance fee. She could offer drinks after. If she did need money towards the hotel repairs, this could be a start. I mean, I would come, if I didn’t live a million miles away.

I focus on the sound of our feet hitting the ground. I’m slow, I’ve accepted I’m slow. So, I can just be. Concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, albeit at a steady pace, and just get out of my head for a while.

Of course, this doesn’t happen. Instead, I’m zeroing in on my slowness. So slow. Noah must have expected me to be crap, surely. I wonder what he’s thinking right now and whether it’s about how slow I’m being.

I focus on his breathing in the hope that it’ll give something away.

It doesn’t.

Come on, head, be quiet.

We round the top of the loch. Looking behind me, I can see the hotel in the distance. It’s still so weird to think that’s where Lola lives. Like, that’s her home. I couldn’t have got it more wrong.

The run-down hotel by the loch and the handmade clothes I hadn’t factored at all.

I have to say, the real Lola is far less terrifying than the Lola in all those magazine articles.

The Lola in the orange minidress. It’s hard to be angry at someone who stitches daisies into their own dungarees.

But without the anger I feel lost, unsettled.

Far from being quiet, my head is a cacophony of noise.

Soon, mercifully, the heat starts to make it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

There’s a rustle behind me and I turn around to look and whoa, big mistake.

Noah has taken his T-shirt off and he’s running holding it in one hand.

I whip my head forward so fast my neck clicks.

That’s going to hurt later. That’s what no one tells you about being thirty.

One sudden movement and you’ve got yourself a deep tissue injury.

Still, at least the pain in my neck distracts me from the thought of Noah running behind me, with his T-shirt off.

Not that he’s super stacked or anything, he’s just so tight.

With my legs, there are certain parts that are absolutely superfluous to requirements.

My legs would work fine without that lump or bump.

But the way his muscles all slot together like a jigsaw.

Well, there are no lumps or bumps, put it that way.

And now I know that the tattoo that I’ve seen peeking out under his T-shirt sleeve curves around his shoulder and down past his collarbone and what the hell, I’ve never had a thing for tattoos before. Colin was resolutely anti-tattoo and I mostly agreed with his sentiments.

But I’m a big fan of them now. A super-fan, you could say.

I only got a split-second glimpse, but I definitely saw a compass.

Thinking about Noah shirtless and all tattoo-y is not doing anything to help me regulate my body temperature. I’d tied my hair out of the way back at the cottage, but the bits that have escaped have welded themselves to my neck and forehead.

I push on, my only hope now to get back to the cottage and take a cold shower.

Noah’s breathing picks up.

A very cold shower.

‘Lily,’ he calls, and I come to a stop. I have to rest my hands on my knees and take a few deep breaths as I reconcile the fact that I’ve broken into a sprint trying to outrun Noah and his six pack.

We’re on the other bank of the river now, opposite the hotel. This is the side covered in forest and to the left of us, the mountains bank steeply uphill, dense with evergreen trees.

‘Everything okay?’ I ask once I’ve caught my breath and had a drink. I keep my eyes trained on Noah’s face.

He nods and wipes his forearm over his head. I have a strange and possibly slightly perverse urge to lick him.

‘Wow, you’re fast.’

I don’t mention that I was trying to outrun his abs.

‘That infinity pool that Lola mentioned is just up here.’ He points towards the trees and a small opening through them.

‘I might include it on the hidden gems list. I thought it would help bring business to the hotel. Do you want to see it? You don’t have to go in,’ he tacks on the end, no doubt noticing that my eyes have gone wide with fear.

There’s a number of things I could fixate on here. Like my fear of open water. Or the fact that Noah paid me a compliment. But I’m still stuck on the fact that Noah wants to show me something. Me.

‘Well, we are meant to be circumnavigating this run,’ I say, when really, I’ve spent the whole time thinking about Noah running behind me.

‘I know, just a little detour, then we can get back to checking the route.’

I’m still not sure that I exactly trust myself.

‘How far is it?’ I ask, remembering my last trip uphill with Noah.

He peers into the trees. ‘Not far. It’s pretty steep, but after about ten minutes it levels out. We need to follow the water. I think you’ll like it.’

Looking closer, I can see that there’s a trickle of water coming through the gap in the trees. It cuts across in front of us and then disappears into the loch, too small to even be a stream.

‘Okay, why not?’ I tell him, earning myself a smile. ‘I am always up for an off-the-cuff adventure.’ (Lies just come so naturally to me these days.)

Noah does a soft little laugh. God damn it, he’s onto me.

‘Come on then, adventure awaits.’

He takes off through the gap and this time I let him lead. With no one around to catch or judge me, I take in his broad back. The way his muscles work together as he climbs, like a game of sexy Tetris.

It’s possible that operating at a higher altitude than what I’m used to is scrambling my brain’s ability to get a read on people.

Or maybe like Lola, Noah is just a bit of an enigma.

I think he’s quite shy, he goes red a lot (which for the record, I’m a huge fan of).

But then at other times he’s more confident.

Like the way he’s taken charge here. What my brain isn’t failing at, is coming up with other scenarios in which Noah could take charge.

It’s readily supplying those, no problem.

‘Just a bit further,’ he calls as we climb. My leg muscles are protesting now and I’m back to using my hands too. I wonder if every trip out with Noah is going to end with me crawling around on the floor.

‘It’s here.’

Noah suddenly stands up and I move to join him, pushing through a final thicket of branches that have knitted together between two trees.

The view steals my breath.

The tarn is about half the size of a regular swimming pool and sort of an oval shape.

The water is clear blue. At one side, a smooth rock juts out of the mountainside, a small stream of water trickling over the edge of it.

Noah’s right, it’s exactly like an infinity pool and looking out over the craggy mountains.

It’s absolutely stunning. Behind us, we’re pretty much surrounded by trees.

‘Lola doesn’t want me telling people about this place,’ Noah says from behind me, causing goose bumps to run down my arms.

‘I can see why.’ I look around. It’s so beautiful, a hidden oasis among the trees, I have to wrestle against a ridiculous urge to cry. On Skye, I’m an emotional wreck.

‘Cool, right?’ Noah asks.

‘Very cool.’ I sniff and smile at the same time. If Noah realizes that I’m having a moment, he doesn’t let on. ‘I think I might put my feet in.’ I just need a second of space so I’m already kicking off my shoes, pulling off my socks. The ground is mossy underfoot.

‘You could go all the way in? You know, since you’re always up for an off-the-cuff adventure?’ Noah asks, still from behind me. I think he’s taking the piss.

I twist around to see him smiling.

He’s definitely taking the piss.