If I spend any more time visiting the store where Meg works, they’re going to try and sign me up for a loyalty card or something. But I can’t stay away when I know it might be my only opportunity to see her for over a week.
I persuaded her to tell me when she takes her lunch break the other day and managed a snatched half hour in the store’s restaurant, tucked away in the corner so we had some privacy, although I could tell she felt nervous about being seen by too many of her colleagues. And she only allowed me the barest peck of her lips, it hardly counted as a proper kiss, as we said goodbye at the lifts on her floor. The blush on her face as she hurried away was adorable though.
I can understand her caution, this is all so new between us, and there are probably policies about employee behaviour that we’d be contravening if I backed her into one of the changing rooms and kissed her like I really wanted to.
I’m hoping today, away from her workplace, she’ll feel freer to be the confident, sassy, sexy Meg I remember from the night of the concert. I smile to myself in anticipation of spending as much of the day as possible with her. A smile which earns me a judgemental frown from the elderly woman sitting opposite me on the tube. Apparently smiling on the London Underground is still not the...