Free All Bets Are On by Charlotte Phillips

would never lead to sex.
    The car turned into her road. She steeled herself mentally. She would experience this as a physical reaction only. No room for thought or emotion. This was all about coming up with a set of objective rules. Certainly not subjective, because she wasn’t personally interested in him. She refused to acknowledge the tiny voice, deep down, telling her that part of her nerves had nothing to do with her project but simply came from the thought of what his mouth might feel like against hers after three kiss-free years.
    As the car came to a standstill she curbed the sudden overwhelming desire to lick her lips, aware of his eyes on her as she turned to look at him.
    The road was quiet. Lined with cars but no one around. Late afternoon. The shadows were long now, the sun dipping away behind the houses. He probably thought if he played this right they could spend the evening in bed and he wouldn’t need to stay over. Genius. Her heart was pounding away and her stomach was doing cartwheels. And then she became gradually aware of the ongoing quiet burr of the engine. He hadn’t turned it off, had just left it to tick over quietly.
    He wasn’t planning on leaving the car.
    Which could only mean one thing: a kiss was on the cards. Right here, right now, in the car before he got out.
    ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘For driving me home.’
    Anticipation had made her mouth dry so she felt as if she were speaking through a mouthful of dust.
    ‘You’re welcome,’ he said, putting the car in gear.
    For the first time her sweeping certainty slipped a notch. Might he actually be keen to get away?
    As soon as the thought was out there it crystallised, and, no matter how hard she tried to squash the reaction, her mind insisted on immediately listing all the reasons why a sharp exit might actually appeal to him right now. Her meltdown in the middle of the boating lake, for example, behaviour he saw as ‘strung out’—what a hideous term that was. She’d followed up his hot statement of intentions by tipping them into the freezing lake. Had he now decided she just wasn’t worth the grief?
    The reality of the situation kicked her firmly in the teeth with a whack of insecurity.
    Harry, with his pick of London’s women, who wasn’t above having a one-night stand just because he could, didn’t find her attractive enough even to go in for a first kiss. The anticipatory galloping of her heart slowed to a dragging-its-heels pace and the burn of embarrassment rose in her cheeks. If she wasn’t alluring enough to snare someone like him, bearing in mind he already knew she didn’t want anything serious, then it was no wonder she’d been an epic failure at keeping a man’s interest and respect in the past. Hot on the heels of this thought came a boiling flush of anger at herself because she really shouldn’t care whether he found her alluring or not.
    ‘Goodbye, then,’ she said, getting it in quickly before he could, taking control.
    He gave her a chummy smile.
    ‘’Bye.’
    She opened the car door, dimly aware of the uncomfortable way her jeans clung damply to her legs and the squish of her waterlogged shoes. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t made a move.
    * * *
    Alice climbed out and shut the door behind her. She paused to glance at him as she rounded the bonnet of the car and he gave her another friendly smile and a nod. He really was just going to drive away, then. No mention of a follow-up date. Nothing.
    ‘Did you forget something?’ The window glided smoothly down. He looked at her, eyebrows raised.
    She realised she was standing in front of the car, staring at him through the windscreen and blocking his ability to go anywhere, and she pulled herself quickly together and walked onto the pavement, disbelief still coursing through her.
    Her heart was thumping and a blush rose hotly in her cheeks. She should have walked smartly to the front door without looking back. Big mistake.
    ‘No,’ she