Two days later, and I'd lost count of how many times I'd gotten myself off in Mike's hoodie. I should have washed it. I meant to wash it. But every time I picked it up to take it to the machine, I'd catch his scent and end up back in bed instead. Now it was Friday evening, and I was walking to the climbing centre wearing the hoodie under my jacket. It was freezing, proper cold, and I needed the extra layer. Besides, Mike...

I'd walked to the climbing centre because it was only twenty minutes from my flat and I'd needed the fresh air. February evening, cold enough to make my breath fog, but the walk would warm me up. Vic was already there when I arrived, chatting with a guy by the chalk bags. Brown hair, wiry build, a bit gawky, but there were definitely some muscles there. "Ally, this is Mike," Vic said. "Climbs here most Wednesdays." "Alrig...