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2 - I Know I'm Not The Only One

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all."

"Are you sure? It's rather personal."

He thought about it for a minute then looked at me. "As long as you don't mind if I decline to answer."

"Deal." I sat my teacup in the saucer as I plucked up the courage to ask him something I had been wondering about for years. "How did you get that little scar just below your lip?"

"That's your personal question?"

"Well, yes. I'm sorry, it's just I've always imagined something along the lines of you fell off your bike when you were a little boy... You don't have to answer."

He reached across the table and put his hand over mine and of course the tingling arm was back again, only this time it could in fact be a heart attack as it was the left arm.

"Cara, it's fine. I don't mind, I just wasn't expecting...well, I thought you would ask something different. I'm happy to tell you how I got it." A smile lit his face again – it's no wonder he has all those smile/laughter lines, they were really getting a good workout tonight. "In actual fact, you are dead on the money, I did fall off my bike. When I was six. I was showing off to some friends of my parents and didn't see a rock on the path and – well, went arse over tit, basically."

That made me giggle and then he giggled too and we both sat there giggling like teenage girls. Is that sexist? Do teenage boys giggle too? As I'm a girl, I can only speak from my own personal experience so I'm not entirely sure what teenage boys get up to. Well, apart from...you know...masturbating, which apparently they do quite a lot of, if my brother and his friends are to be believed. Now I'm rambling again – see, nerves.

"So tell me about yourself."

"Hmm, I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"You've already said you find me fascinating. If I share too much – which I will do, because I'm nervous and when nervous seem to lack a filter – you will find I'm a little on the kooky side. Well, that's putting it mildly, my friends tell me. They say much worse. Which is fine, because, you know, they're my friends. Anyway, you'll suffer through it for a while because you are a polite person and, of course, a brilliant actor, so you can pretend to be interested when you're not. Then eventually you'll make a sweet but patently obvious excuse to leave, kiss me goodbye on the cheek and walk out of here never to return."

His lips twitched a little but he kept a straight face when he asked, "What if I like kooky? What if I am looking for some kooky in my life?"

That floored me. I looked into his eyes, which – in hindsight – was a dangerous thing to do because hell's bells, those are some amazing peepers. I was trying to remember the name of the condition he has that makes his eyes different combinations of colours but gave it up (science has never been my strong point) and settled for being completely mesmerised by blue, green and gold. I opened my mouth to say something self-deprecatory but what actually came out was, "Then you've come to the right place."

And I winked at him.

I didn't know ahead of time I was going to do it, it just sort of happened and no-one was more astounded than me to realise I was flirting with him. Me. And he, if his reaction were to be believed and it wasn't just the polite acting I'd been talking about a second ago, was...enjoying it. The flirtation I mean. Yeah, okay, you got it, I didn't need to labour the point – sorry, nervous reaction. Umm, I'll stop now, okay?

His eyes twinkled at me and his whole face just looked...happy. I can't think of any other way to describe it and for me to be short of words is, well, you know, unusual.

I took a deep breath and plunged on while I was on a roll. "How about I tell you one thing about me and you tell me one thing about you? Something that isn't common knowledge already I mean, not a factoid I can get off the Internet." I hastened to add, "But nothing I can sell to the tabloids and make enough money to buy my own Gulfstream, obviously."

I was kind of getting to really like the way I could cause his mouth to quirk up at the sides in a delicious little half smile. Yum.

"I've already shared one with you," he said, raising an eyebrow. "It's your turn."

I frowned and he put his index finger to the little scar under his lip.

"Ah, that doesn't count," I told him. "We weren't playing the game then."

His response was to move thumb and finger along his lips in mimic of a zip. He even mimed throwing away the key then had the cheek to grin when I gave an exasperated sigh.

"Okay. Give me a minute..." What am I going to tell him? Out of all the thousands of thoughts jumbling around in my head I had to pick just one to share and it had to be a good one. Oh God, the pressure!

"My first sexual encounter was on the back of a horse."

He spat the last sip of his coffee all over the table in front of us and I grinned widely as I went to get a serviette from the bar to mop it up with. When I came back he helped me wipe.

"God, Cara!"

"Too much? I told you I don't have a filter. Seriously, I've got to learn to just shut my -" His fingers were on my lips, stopping me before I could get into full-steam-ahead crazy.

"Not too much, just...surprising."

I suddenly noticed how closely we were standing, how good he smelled and how nice his fingers felt against my skin. The urge to open my lips and draw them into my mouth was almost overwhelming  and I struggled against it, wondering where the hell this intense lust had sprung from and realising it must show on my face when I saw his pupils dilate and heard him take a little breath. My unreliable knees were weakening again and moisture began pooling in a place it had no right to do while I was standing in a public area with a world famous actor.

"Ben," I breathed against his fingers. God, what I wanted to do to those fingers. What I wanted those fingers to do to me. I saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed and knew my eyes had to be getting as dark as his were. Did I mention how hot it had gotten in here?

"Five minutes, ladies and gentlemen!" Bob's call broke the spell and we broke apart. His hand dropped back to his side and I picked up the soggy serviettes, holding them for a minute or two before putting them back down on the table. Bob would deal with those. I looked around the room for what seemed like the first time in hours and saw a couple looking our way, the girl reaching for her phone. Without thinking I grabbed my bag and Benedict's hand and tugged him towards the exit.

"Come on," I urged.

I dragged him out the door after calling goodnight to Bob and began heading to a café nearby that was open till three in the morning. Jake and I and the band often went there after a gig; their sweet potato wedges with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce were amazing. My mouth was watering just thinking about them so it wasn't until I felt his fingers curling around mine that I realised I was still holding Benedict's hand. If felt nice; I'm not going to lie.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Oh!" I stopped walking and looked at him. "I don't eat before a gig so I'm starving." With perfect timing my stomach gurgled and he gave a small grin. I ran my other hand through my hair. "Have you had dinner?" He nodded. "Oh, so...sorry, I pulled you out of there because someone was about to take a photo which I assumed you wouldn't want, but um...well, I'm sure you have better things to do than watch me eat, so..." I tried to disentangle my fingers from his but he wouldn't let me.

"I'm happy to watch you eat," he smiled, "Besides, I have some questions about the whole sex on a horse scenario."

I smiled back, said okay, and started walking again.

"Cara?"

"Yes?"

"The answers won't scar me for life will they?"

I laughed. "I make no promises Mr Cumberbatch!"