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someone she would approve of. Besides, I don’t know what to make of him myself. My lips are still throbbing from the kiss, making me feel things low down in my body that I definitely don’t want to discuss with her.
    ‘Your dad phoned.’
    I frown. He knew I was at Rianne’s, he had dropped me there, so he must have phoned hoping to talk to Mum. I eye her suspiciously. She looks flushed, happy, though that could be because her work’s going well.
    ‘I’m going to bed,’ I say, all of a sudden wanting to be alone. She just nods, looking distracted. Normally she would want to know all about my day, or question why Iwas going to bed so early.
    ‘Night, baby.’
    On impulse I give her a quick hug before going up to my room, and she ruffles my hair affectionately. I get upstairs and throw myself down on the bed, pushing thoughts of Mum and Dad to one side. I want to think about Joe. About the way his mouth felt on mine and that gorgeous body pressed against me…but then he had stepped away. Was I too full on? I think about the way I threw my arms around him and kissed him back, and blush. As if I do that with boys all the time, which is probably what he thinks now. I think of him telling Dean, of them discussing me in the way guys do, and it makes me cringe. I think about the way Adam and his friends had talked about Dannii. Joe seems more mature than that, but how would I know?
    Remembering Adam and the way the other boy had grabbed me makes me feel icky. I’m lucky Joe came along when he did. Overwhelmed by the day’s events I feel myself dropping off, a swirl of images in my mind. Rianne feeding the baby, my dad, Adam’s sneering face and finally, Joe’s mouth coming closer to mine, until they all blur into one and I fall asleep without even taking my coat off.

Chapter Three
    The next morning, I’m at work. Poppy’s is the only diner I know that opens on a Sunday, serving up roast dinners alongside its usual fare of breakfasts and burgers. It gets surprisingly busy. There’s a couple of families in today as well as the usual people. I think the Sunday dinner thing is catching on.
    I quite like working here, even though when I do the early mornings in the school holidays it gets hectic and I’ve been known to drop things or mix the orders up. But I love the friendly atmosphere and the banter with the customers. Today though I’m distracted, unable to stop my thoughts constantly turning back to last night and to Joe, and that kiss. My cheeks go hot and my tummy all fluttery every time I remember the way he leaned down and kissed me, and I’ve built the whole thing up to a big romantic scene in my mind that wouldn’t be out of place in one of my novels. In romance stories though, the hero doesn’t tend to abruptly pull away and walk home. I don’t know what to make of it. He must like me, or why kiss me? But then, why apologise? I’ve been tormenting myself with it all morning.
    ‘Damn.’ I realise I’m burning the bacon and quickly get it onto the plate. If I arrange the beans carefully the customer won’t notice the burnt bit, hopefully. I finish the rest of the breakfast, butter the toast and take it out to the old lady in the corner, who comes in every Sunday at lunchtime and orders an all-day breakfast. She smiles at me as I lay the plate in front of her and I feel bad about the bacon.
    I’m behind the counter making a coffee when a voice makes me look up, startled.
    ‘Ash.’
    ‘Joe!’ I nearly spill sugar all over myself. He grins at me as I wipe it off. ‘What are you doing in here?’
    ‘Came in for a burger.’
    Oh. I try not to look disappointed, and I’m about to put on my best waitress voice and ask him what he would like to drink, and if he wants normal fries or curly ones, when he laughs.
    ‘I’m joking, Ash. I came in to see you. Dean said you’d be here.’
    I push the coffee over to the woman waiting for it and take the money without speaking. My heart is pounding. Get a