by Paige Toon
‘I’m sorry for asking you difficult questions when you’re drunk,’ he says into my hair.
Yeah. Bastard.
‘But I know I’ll get an honest answer out of you.’
On the plus side, my desire to have sex with him has flown right out of the window. No morning-after regrets for me. I slowly break away from him.
‘Guess I’d better go.’
‘Stay,’ he says, his hand on my arm.
I give him a perplexed look. He’s got to be kidding, right? After all of that?
‘Sleep with me,’ he says casually.
I shake my head.
‘Just... sleep,’ he says more firmly.
Yes. I do want to be held by him, more than I want my PJs or my toothbrush, I realise. And it does feel like a choice. He takes my hesitation as a yes and holds my hand, leading me to the bed. He pulls back the covers and kicks off his shoes. I wobble slightly as I do the same, which he seems to find entertaining. And then he pulls his T-shirt over his head and my mouth falls open. Obscene. He throws the T-shirt at me and I catch it in a daze. He jerks his head towards the bathroom and then at the garment in my hands. ‘PJs,’ he says with amusement.
Mmm. Yes, I’d be quite happy to wear this to bed. I go into the bathroom and strip off everything apart from my knickers. I pull his T-shirt over my head and feel the cosiness of it engulf me. Still warm. Always warm. Then I return to the bedroom. He’s switched off the lights and I can barely make out the shape of his body as I slide under the duvet. His arms snake around me and I snuggle into his chest. He kisses the top of my head.
‘Night-night, Bronnie,’ he says in a deep, sleepy voice.
‘Night,’ I murmur.
I lie there for a long time, listening to his breathing slow down and become long and steady. But I can’t fall asleep to save my life. His skin is soft under my palm. I slide my fingertips across his chest and down to the hardness of his ribcage. I run my fingers along the length of his bottom rib. He catches my hand. Oh dear, I’ve woken him up.
His breath is hot against the top of my head. It’s less slow and steady and more short and sharp. His fingers ensnare my wrist, but I flatten my palm and place my hand against his stomach. He makes a strangled-sounding noise at the back of his throat.
I tilt my face up and kiss the place where I think the sound came from, and then I run my tongue across his skin. That’s it for him. He crushes his lips against mine and as I straddle him, he slides his T-shirt up and over my head in one smooth movement. A shiver goes down my spine, partly because of the cold, but mostly because I’m suddenly so turned on I can barely contain myself. Only his boxers and my knickers separate us from each other, but I can feel him, and I want him. So much. He puts his hands roughly on my hips and pulls me hard against him and I gasp into his mouth.
‘Fuck,’ he curses. ‘Jeans.’ He smacks my bum and pushes me off him. Jeans? Oh, condom. I feel dizzy as he gets off the bed and retrieves his wallet from his jeans, snapping it open. He finds what he’s looking for and returns to the bed. Moments later, he flips me onto my back and hovers above me, but he hesitates. I slide my hands down his broad, muscular back, willing him to take me. Isn’t this what he wanted? He bends to touch his lips to mine and his ensuing kiss is so sweet and so full of love and longing that it makes me feel strangely emotional. He keeps his lips on mine as he pushes into me, and the raw sensation damn near takes my breath away. And then we begin to move together as one.
I fall asleep in his arms afterwards with my head on his chest and I wake up with his arms around me, his body spooning me from behind. My head is throbbing, but as I lie there, slowly coming to, I realise I don’t have any regrets. Last night was amazing. Breathtaking. His right hand is cupping my breast and his arm is heavy as I try to extract myself. He murmurs as I slip out of bed and go into the bathroom. My mouth tastes disgusting. Urgh. I rinse it out with water and borrow some of his toothpaste, but it’s not enough. Finally I grab his toothbrush and think to hell with it. I brush my teeth. He doesn’t need to know. I look around for a robe, but there isn’t one. Bath towel? No, I’ll look ridiculous and he’s still asleep anyway.
Oh. No, he’s not. I run back to the bed and climb under the covers and smile at him as his arms encircle me again.
‘I thought you’d gone,’ he murmurs with a sleepy grin.
I shake my head and kiss him.
‘Mmm, minty,’ he says in a deep, warm voice. ‘Wait, did you use my toothbrush?’
I can’t help but giggle.
‘Sneaky,’ he mutters, but he’s grinning when he kisses me and our teeth knock together. He pulls me against him and I murmur with pleasure at all of our bare skin contact. I slide up his body to reach his lips and feel him fully wake up.
‘Can’t,’ he murmurs against my mouth.
I pull away and look at him.
‘I only had one condom,’ he explains. I may be on the Pill, but we’re still practising safe sex. ‘But we can do other stuff,’ he tells me with a suggestive look before my disappointment can sink in.
We do ‘other stuff for most of the next hour.
Finally we realise we should probably show our faces and work out what Rachel and Maria are planning to do today. Rachel wanted to go and see her parents, seeing as she’s nearby, and Maria had been talking about getting started on her Christmas shopping. By some miracle, I manage to make it back to my room without being seen. I have a quick shower and get dressed in jeans and a jumper before going downstairs to the dining room. Lachie, Maria and Rachel are already sitting at a table together. The sexy look on his face as I approach them makes my face heat up again. How embarrassing. Rachel purses her lips and my colour deepens – I’m sure she’s guessed. And by the end of breakfast, Maria knows, too. Might have something to do with Lachie grabbing me at one point and kissing me smack on my lips.
I find the whole thing slightly mortifying, but Lachie just seems amused.
We make a plan to meet up at the B&B for a three o’clock departure and then go our separate ways – although Lachie stays with me. We spend the morning wandering around the pretty spa town, looking at the architecture and going for lunch in a gorgeous pub. He’s even more tactile with me than usual and it’s lovely. I like him. A lot. And the fact that he’s leaving next week has not failed to escape my notice.
We sit cuddled together the whole way back to London. Rachel is planning to drop me off first, but as we approach my street, Lachie turns to me.
‘Come back to mine?’
‘I have work tomorrow,’ I tell him regretfully.
‘Grab what you need?’
‘I’m happy to wait,’ Rachel says with a look of amusement.
‘I’ll be really quick!’ I promise.
I unlock the door of my apartment to see Bridget sitting on the sofa, reading a book.
‘Hey, how did it go?’ she asks casually.
Er, I have a lot of explaining to do. And I don’t have time for that with Rachel pulled up on a busy road downstairs.
‘Really well,’ I say. ‘Um... I’m going to stay at Lachie’s house tonight,’ I blurt out.
‘What?’
‘I...’ Argh! ‘We slept together.’
‘You did what?’
‘We...’ I wave my hands about. ‘You know!’
‘You screwed him?’ she asks incredulously.
‘Well, if you want to put it that way,’ I reply, escaping into my bedroom. She’s hot on my heels.
‘Oh my God!’ she squawks. ‘How did that happen?’
‘Rachel’s downstairs,’ I say apologetically as I flap about trying to decide on an outfit to wear to work tomorrow.
‘Tell me quickly,’ Bridget demands, snatching a woollen shift dress right out of my hand and slamming it onto the bed. She goes to my drawer and pulls out a matching pair of tights while I fill her in, emptying my overnight bag onto the bed and repacking it with toiletries and fresh clothes.
‘Do not make any plans for tomor
row night,’ she says sternly while pointing at me. ‘I want a proper lowdown.’ Then she grins and gives me a hug and sends me on my way.
‘Sorry,’ I apologise as I climb into the car. ‘Bridget wanted to talk to me.’
‘Did she now?’ Lachie murmurs and I smirk at him.
We arrive at Lachie’s flat to discover that his flatmate Dan has company. Dan and another guy are sitting on the floor in front of the TV playing the PlayStation, while two more guys sit on the sofa drinking beer.
‘Hey,’ Lachie says when we walk in, me a little on edge. I wasn’t expecting to have to face anyone.
He’s greeted with enthusiasm by his mates, which swiftly transforms into surprise when they see me. The two guys playing on the PlayStation pause their game.
Lachie rests his hands on his upright guitar case. ‘Guys, this is Bronte,’ he says, using my actual name for a change.
‘Hi,’ I respond to their cheerful hellos and put my bag down. A couple of pairs of eyes follow the progression of my bag and then look with puzzlement back at my face.
‘Catch you in a bit,’ Lachie says casually, not explaining my reason for being here. He indicates the door to the small hallway so I pick up my bag again and follow him, awkwardly. He opens the first door on our left and I walk through to his bedroom. It’s small – there’s barely enough room for his double bed – and he has one chest of drawers but no wardrobe. The drawers are half open, with clothes spilling out. I can see the straps of an enormous backpack peeking out from underneath the crumpled cream-coloured duvet resting on top of the bed – it’s a sudden, painful reminder that he’s going home soon. He puts his things down and turns to face me.
‘Sorry it’s a bit of a tip,’ he says, looking a tad sheepish.
I don’t care about the state of his room. A lump has formed in my throat. ‘I can’t believe you’re leaving next week.’
‘I did tell you,’ he says with a small smile as he places his hands on my waist. ‘But I’m going to Europe, first. I’m back here for a few days in December before I fly home.’
My heart lifts a little. ‘Did you know I’m going home for Christmas now?’
‘No.’ His eyes light up. ‘Are you? Will you be in South Australia?’
‘Yes. Just for a couple of weeks, then I’m back over here again.’
‘Oh. Then you’re back to Sydney in March?’
I shake my head. Didn’t I tell him? ‘No, I got a promotion. I’m coming back here.’
His face falls, but his grip on my waist tightens. ‘You’re coming back to the UK?’
‘Yes.’
‘I thought you were going back to Sydney.’
‘No. I was, but not any more. I thought I’d told you.’
‘No.’ He shakes his head, looking anything but happy for me. ‘You didn’t.’
I realise with a jolt that I’m getting him confused with Alex. It was Alex I told.
Lachie goes to sit on the bed. His mood has taken a dive. He smooths his palm across his crumpled duvet cover. ‘I was sort of thinking about coming to Sydney,’ he says quietly.
‘Were you?’ I can’t hide my surprise.
‘Well, I didn’t think you’d be moving to Perth any time soon.’ He glances at me with a wry look on his face. ‘I know where that suggestion got your last boyfriend.’
He’s my boyfriend now? I’m not sure how I feel about that. But he’s leaving next week and I’m staying. There’s nothing long-term about us. I go back to feeling sad.
‘Guess we’ll just have to make the most of the time we have, then,’ I say as I put my hand on his shoulder. He kisses me gently, twisting his body so that the weight of him presses me back onto the bed. I’m vaguely aware of gunfire and the grunting shouts of soldiers coming from the PlayStation in the living room as his kisses begin to get hot and heavy. I can’t help smiling.
‘What?’ He pulls away and stares down at me. His eyes are burning into mine and it’s such a hot look that it almost whisks my doubts away.
‘Do you think we should go and chat to your mates for a bit?’
He groans and kisses me one more time before climbing off me, holding his hand down to me.
I like his friends. They’re all Australian with the exception of one, and they’re all young guys in their early twenties. I feel a little old in comparison. We order in pizza, drink a couple of bottles of beer and are sociable until about nine thirty, when Lachie tells them that he’s ‘tired’. From the looks on their faces, they don’t buy it, but I don’t care any more. His thumb stroking my waist has been severely distracting all evening.
I’m jittery by the time we reach his bedroom. He kisses me slowly, gently, and undresses me without saying a word. He pulls his T-shirt over his head and I kiss his neck and run my hands over his perfectly cut torso and down to the waistband of his well-worn jeans. His breath hitches as I work on his buttons, his heavy breathing causing the muscles on his chest to ripple. Once naked, we climb into the cold bed and let our bodies heat each other up. Our kisses become more passionate, but I’m still too aware of his mates on the other side of the thin walls. He makes a guttural sound when I slide my hand down across his stomach and I smile against his ear and tell him to ‘Shh.’
He kisses me hungrily, his hands suddenly getting very busy, and I’m almost losing my mind by the time he takes me. The awareness it takes for me to keep quiet makes the whole experience feel incredibly intense and almost unbearably erotic. His lips are on my mouth when we finally find release and I gasp against him, trying not to cry out. Then he collapses on top of me, hot and heavy, while I try to catch my breath. He’s crushing me, but when he tries to move, I hold him still. I like the weight of him.
We make love two more times before finally succumbing to sleep, and in the morning he gets up to make me breakfast before I go to work. The flat is silent – Dan must still be in bed, which is good because I’m not sure we were that quiet the last time.
‘What are you doing tonight?’ Lachie asks between mouthfuls of toast.
‘Bridget wants me home,’ I tell him with a smile. ‘What about you?’
‘I’ve got a shift at the pub.’
‘Do you want to come to mine afterwards?’
He looks pleased. ‘Sure.’
He kisses me goodbye at his doorway, and would have followed me downstairs in his T-shirt and boxers if I hadn’t stopped him with a giggle.
‘See you later,’ I tell him.
I smile the whole way into work. On the walk to Camden Town Tube station, on the steps down into the depths of the Underground, and throughout the entire jam-packed journey. I’m still smiling as I walk into the office, and then I see Alex sitting at his desk and the smile drops from my face.
Chapter 28
He looks up as my footsteps falter. ‘Hey,’ he says.
‘Hi.’ I put my head down and hurry past him to my desk. There are too many of our colleagues nearby for me to do anything else, but my heart is racing as I sit down.
I can’t concentrate at all. I force myself to move things around on my desk to make it look like I’m working, and I even manage to smile at Helen and Sarah as they arrive, but mostly I keep my head down. I’m sitting in Nicky’s seat now, by the window, and if I look over my computer I can see Alex’s perfect profile. I mean, Alex’s profile perfectly. But oh... I risk a glance at him and his profile is perfect. His strong jawline, his straight nose, the way his hair sometimes falls down across his forehead before he thinks to push it away, which he just has.
I bite my lip until I draw blood. The taste of it on my tongue takes me a little by surprise, but it serves me right. I am not going there again. I steel myself to be professional and eventually my racing heart settles to a normal pace and I start to feel okay again. It helps when I think of Lachie. I take a deep, slow breath and remember him smiling at me while taking a bite of his toast this morning. I close my eyes briefly and then open them again and get on with my work.
By the time ten
thirty rolls around, I’m desperate for a tea. Sarah has taken to bringing in coffee from the café across the street and Helen usually has one too, so I’m on my own when it comes to tea these days. Eventually I succumb to my thirst and walk past Alex with my head held high.
A moment later, he joins me in the kitchen. I almost swear at him. Why doesn’t he just leave me alone?
‘I didn’t know you were coming back to the office this week.’ I manage, with an astounding amount of effort, to keep my voice sounding neutral. ‘Are you back permanently?’
‘Yeah.’
I don’t look at him as I set about making tea.
‘Hey,’ he says gently, touching his hand to my arm. I snatch it away.
‘Just. Don’t,’ I say through gritted teeth.
He looks anguished. I was hoping to never have to lay eyes on him again. Just then, Russ comes into the kitchen. I hear Alex’s sigh as I hurry up with my task and leave them to it.
Alex sends me an email shortly after I return to my desk.
Can we have lunch?
I stare at my screen in disbelief and then look over the top of my computer, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. I angrily tap out a reply.
Are you for real?
I watch his jaw twitch as he reads my response, then I see him sigh and start to reply. After a while, I realise he might not be replying to me because he’s taking for ever. I’m about to get on with my work as I suspect he has done, but then an email from him pings in.
I’m sorry. I know I’ve screwed up. I just want to apologise. It might seem like a pretty crazy concept right now, but I was hoping we could be friends. I still care about you.
My breath catches as I read that last sentence. I’m too stunned to reply. Another message pings in.
I don’t mean it like that. Please can we have lunch?
I angrily reply.
No. I don’t want to have lunch with you. It’s bad enough that I have to see your stupid face from here. In fact, I’m thinking about moving back to my old desk.