by Blobel, Iris
***
Markus enjoyed the moment with Sarah snuggled up his arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a woman’s legs entwined with his and him not wanting to run as fast as possible.
“Still no regrets?” he whispered after he’d placed a kiss on her forehead.
“Not at all,” she said without looking at him.
He knew the moment of their contentment would be over soon and even though they both had no regrets now, it would slowly creep up later on. At the moment, though, he was too satiated to argue with himself, and he was too overwhelmed by his emotions to reason objectively.
They’d spent the last couple of hours making love and exploring the mysteries of each other’s bodies. And as she lay next to him now with her head resting on his shoulder, he listened to her gentle breathing and felt her hand lightly running over his chest. He thought he’d have her out of his system—how wrong he was. Something inside him, something eerily unfamiliar, told him how different this had been compared to the women he’d been in bed with before. It was scarily different, because he hadn’t been able to get enough of Sarah. The more she had moaned underneath him, the more orgasms she’d had, the more he wanted to please her again.
“Why?” he asked, yet as soon as the question had left his lips he already regretted it.
When her chest moved against him, he knew she heaved a big sigh, not wanting to know or not knowing the answer. “Fatal attraction?”
Markus suppressed back a laugh.
“If it were as simple as giving you an answer, I would’ve spent the last twenty-four hours convincing myself that the answer was wrong.” Sarah wriggled in his arm and met his gaze. “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “Do we have to know why?”
Moving to his side, he thought about it. Did he need to have an answer?
“Now what?” he asked instead.
She shrugged again. “Marky, darlin’, you’re about the best lover I’ve ever had in this bed, but you do suck when it comes to the after.”
He laughed. “I suppose that goes with the territory, considering that my foreplay apparently lacks skills as well.”
Sarah’s hand moved up his chest, and heat pooled in his groin again. Nope, he wasn’t done with her, yet. Not even close.
“We’ve known each other for so many years,” she whispered. “Since primary school.” She laughed. “For Pete’s sake, you saw me naked when I was only eight or nine.”
Markus joined her in her laughter.
She grew serious. “Moving on into a relationship would possibly destroy our friendship. It never works.”
Everything inside him agreed with her, although there was an urge to disagree, but he didn’t want to ruin the mood, or at least the bit of good mood they were in. He simply agreed with a nod.
“How about some lunch? I’ll treat you to a nice lunch at the Waterfront Bistro.”
She stretched, and Markus had another long look at her body.
Nope, not done with her at all. Rubbing his face with his hand, he reminded himself this was and had to be a one off. That was all she was in for.
“I’d love to,” she finally said, as she grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around her body before disappearing into the bathroom.
Cursing, he threw back the duvet and slid his legs into his pants. There was no point lying to himself when he knew that sleeping with Sarah had been a mistake. Instead of moving on, he wanted her again, more than ever before. Once her mouth had touched his, common sense had gone right out of the window and stopped his brain. It’d been wrong for so many reasons, but mainly because he’d taken advantage of her emotional situation. It was as plain and simple as that. Of course, he had wanted her. All he’d remembered was her standing in that dress in front of him the day earlier. But she’d been hurt by Timmy. Markus had tried to warn her a few times that something seemed iffy about him, but she’d seen what she wanted to see and nothing else. He knew damn well Sarah had wanted to soothe her wounded pride. It hadn’t been him she’d wanted, but his body.
Still, all Markus was able to think of was how great the sex with Sarah had been.
***
When Sarah looked into the mirror, she was startled by the reflection. Instead of seeing a happy and contented woman, she stared at a face revealing a hint of self-doubt as well as a touch of regret. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, and she stepped over to the shower to turn on the spray.
As she splashed some water into her face, she heard a knock at the door. Her entire body was on alert and ready for more.
“Sarah, something’s come up. I’ll catch up with you during the week,” she heard Mark saying.
Turning off the water, she strained her ears to hear whether she might have misunderstood him—but she hadn’t. There was the distinct sound of the front door shutting. Leaning her head against the cold tiles, she tried to figure out her emotions.
That was it? Catch up during the week? What the hell had happened the last five minutes?
Not wanting to wash off his kisses with soap, she stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel. Again, she listened for any noises, but the house was quiet. Markus had left.
Yes, she’d wanted to sleep with him, and yes, she had enjoyed every single second.
Now what, he’d asked, but she’d played down the situation, too scared to tell him the truth, to tell him that she wanted more. It had obviously been just a one-time thing for him. Not that she’d blame him. She’d made it clear, that’d been all she was interested too.
What a lie!
Looking back over the last few months, they’d both been flirting with each other more than usual, and had spent more time together than before.
Did they ruin a wonderful friendship? Would things be awkward now?
Sarah dressed and headed out. She needed to talk to someone and she needed a shoulder to cry on.
Half an hour later, she stood in front of Oliver’s house. It took him a while to come to the front door, but when he saw her crying, he didn’t hesitate and took her into his arms straight away.
“Timmy?” he whispered.
Shaking her head against his chest, she let out a long sob.
“Come on in, sweetcakes.”
Oliver gently pushed her inside the house towards the kitchen.
“Family?” he asked.
Another sob, before she met his gaze. “Nope.”
“Saz, I need a bit of help here unless you only want to have a little cry. If that’s the case, let’s move into the lounge room, so I can watch the news while you do so.”
Wiping her face with the back of her hand, she blew out the breath she’d been holding. “I slept with Marky.”
There was a moment of silence, before he raised his eyebrows and replied, “About time!”
Shocked, confused, and a tiny bit amused, she leaned back to meet his gaze. “Beg yours?”
“You heard.”
Mouth wide open, Sarah stared at Oliver. Yes, she heard what he’d said. The exact words were, About time. About time what?
Hands on hips, she said, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Oliver took her hand and gently pulled her along the hall and into the lounge room. She looked around the lounge room and smiled. It was all decorated in natural colours with the furniture and walls in warm shades of brown and the carpet a beautiful cream. It’d always been the way she wanted her place to look. Fortunately, she’d found her own style in the new house.
“Have a seat. I’ll grab us a drink. Coke? Beer? Tea?”
Nodding, she slumped into the lounge seat.
He laughed. “All three?”
Amused by his teasing, she replied, “I think I can do with a light beer.” Then she studied him for a moment. His face. His expression. The constant smile plastered on his face. “Didn’t you leave with one very special person last night?” she asked.
Still laughing, he nodded. “Yup.”
About to ask for more details about Oliver’s
love life, she remembered the reason why she was here. “About time, what?”
“That you two got together, sweetcakes.”
“I honestly don’t understand.”
Oliver snorted. “For Pete’s sake, Saz. You two have been tiptoeing and dancing around each other for months now. It was simply a matter of time when you two would do the deed.”
Sarah took the drink and sipped on the bottle before she said, “Please, don’t make it sound so dirty.”
Sitting next to her, Oliver placed his arm around her and gently pulled her closer. “Seriously, what’s bothering you? Was he a disappointment? Or—”
Sarah nearly spilled the drink. “Oh, for goodness sake. He…he…I mean.” She sighed. “He’s my friend. My best friend.”
Moving his hand to his chest, he said, “Ouch. That went straight to the heart. I thought I was your BFF.”
“You’re the love of my life,” she replied with as much tease in her voice as she could muster.
Oliver gently pulled close again and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Lemme tell you, sweet pea, you’d never have doubts if you’d sleep with me.”
Sarah laughed. “You’re such an overindulged Casanova. I mean, honestly.”
Then she turned and met his gaze. “The thing is, all was good, until I went to the bathroom, and he left. We agreed to go for lunch together, but all of a sudden something had come up.”
“And?”
She stared at him like he came from a different planet. “And who invites someone to lunch and then leaves with their tail between their legs?”
“Something might’ve come up. Did you ask?”
Shaking her head slightly, she whispered, “No.”
“See.”
“You’re not helping, Oliver.”
His soft laugh annoyed her, but at the same time assured her that she might’ve read too much into it.
She took a sip of her drink before she asked, “The thing is, though, what if we’re not compatible as lovers?”
Shaking his head, he lifted his can and took another sip. “Rubbish.”
But it wasn’t rubbish for Sarah. It was an issue, which was important to her. She’d enjoyed the sex with Markus, more than she actually wanted to admit, but next to Oliver and Tyson, he was her best friend, and one she had fallen back on many times. The idea of throwing away a great friendship of over twenty years for a relationship scared her. Leaning into Oliver’s arm, she let out a long breath. He’d been right by saying that she’d been tiptoeing around Markus for the last couple of months. In hindsight, she wondered whether Timmy had only been a distraction.
Oliver hauled her back from her thoughts. “I reckon your relation with Markus could bloom into something really nice.”
“Bloom?”
“You know, as in grow, blossom—”
“I know what you mean.” She interrupted him. “It’s not your usual choice of words.”
He shrugged nonchalantly.
The phone rang, and Sarah moved away, yet Oliver didn’t move. The answering machine switched on, and they listened to Markus’ voice.
Mate, I need to catch up. I fucked up with Saz this morning. Give me a call.
“Since when have I become Dr. Phil?” Oliver asked through gritted teeth as he stood.
Sarah stood as well and followed him into the hall.
“Fucked up? What do you think he meant with fucked up?”
Following him closer than his own shadow, she bumped into his back when he stopped abruptly next to the chest of drawer with the phone on it. He stared at her.
With a shrug, she said, “I agree, it might have been a mistake, but fucked up is a bit over the top. Right?”
She’d been close to tears when she heard Markus’ words. Sleeping with him might not have been a good idea. She admitted that, even if it hadn’t felt like it at the time. Of course, a future for them was uncertain, because no matter how good it’d been, there was too much history between them, and the novelty would wear off very quickly.
But to call it a fuck up?
“Look, sweet pea, it’s man talk,” he said as he deleted the phone message. “You’re putting way too much into the words.”
“Who says I put too much into it? I simply state that fuck up is exaggerated.”
The phone rang again, and Oliver was about to answer.
“If it’s him, tell him to go to hell.”
“Saz—”
Holding up her hand, she said, “I don’t care.”
The caller wasn’t Markus, and to give Oliver some privacy, she quickly placed a kiss on his cheek and left.
Emotions inside were on a roller coaster ride. Feeling the grief of having lost a wonderful friendship over some sex, as well as the anger of Markus’ perception towards their morning together, nearly brought her to her knees.
It hadn’t been right, but it still had been very good and memorable. Sex with him had been the best in her life. There was no denying it.
With a sigh, she opened her car and slid behind the wheel.
Cranking up the music in the car, Sarah’s mind drifted back to Markus’ words that he’d left on Oliver’s answering machine. As she sang along with the music at the top of her voice, she drove the familiar streets to his house. The car practically knew the way on its own, she’d driven it that often. And all the while, the words fucked up kept going around and around in her head. Determined to tell him how she felt about their morning together, she thought of how much she had enjoyed it, as well as how much she’d wanted it for a long time. Subconsciously, that was. Now so many things made sense to her. The tiptoeing was her finding out how he felt. She was sure of it. Yet, every time the tiptoeing turned into steps, she’d worried about crossing the line from friendship to relationship. That was something she’d been scared of. Turning into Markus’ street, she slowed down as she came closer to his house.
Markus had bought the house with the money from his first contract a few years back. It was modest then, and in comparison to what he was worth, it still was. But to her, it had charm and character. It’d been built by one of those dreamers, who wanted a bush cottage near the big city. The house was built from a mix of stacked stones, timber, and metal roofing. The garden around lacked a bit of attention, although she knew a gardener came by once in a while to give it a trim. Mainly at that point when Markus wasn’t able to see his shoes while walking across the backyard.
He’d added some serious improvement inside as well. The house had four rooms, two of them with a double-showered en suite. Sarah always thought that staying at Markus’ overnight was like staying a first class hotel. The other two rooms were his study and gym, and always in a mess. Her favourite was the rustic kitchen with all the modern conveniences. The wood combined with the modern looked sensational. The icing on the cake, though, was the spa in the back, which was surrounded by a glass roof and windows. Sarah loved it and often sneaked in while Markus was away. Afterwards, she’d sit in front of the open log fire with a nice glass of wine, watching a cheesy romance movie.
Sighing, she turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. It was time to face the truth.
***
When Markus finally got back to his house, he was about to put his car into reverse gear and hide.
No other than Melanie Simpson stood in front of his door.
And as it seemed from the distant, she was impatient as well, checking the time every couple of seconds. He was about to put the gear into reverse when his phone buzzed. It was her. Really impatient as it turned out. Shaking his head, he parked the car in the driveway, let out a deep sigh, and got out of the car. He didn’t want to talk to Mel. Especially not after the morning he’d had.
Melanie Simpson was the assistant to his manager. Pretty little thing. Nice as well and always eager to deliver messages in person instead of calling him on the phone like Mike, his manager, did. Of course, he knew she had a crush on him, and she made it known at every occasion possible. Markus enjo
yed the little flirt when they were in the office, but was always aware of what he said or did when she stopped by.
He turned and walked right into her.
“Hi, Markus,” she said with eyes looking like his neighbour’s puppy.
“Melanie.”
“We need to talk.”
Markus shook his head. “Nope. We don’t.”
He had no idea why she was here, nor was he really interested in the reason. All he knew was that he’d had the best sex that morning and still hadn’t figured out why it felt so wrong, but so right at the same time. And he was pissed off that Oliver wouldn’t return his calls. No, he wasn’t in the mood at all to talk to Melanie, whatever it was she had to tell him.
“Yes, we do,” she insisted.
“Melanie. I had a shitty morning. If it’s that important, I’ll give Mike a call later on.”
She leaned closer, tapping her finger on his chest. “Look, darlin’, I did too, and I’m still here to deliver the news. So suck it up and listen.”
Taken aback, his instant reaction was to step away, but the car was behind him. So he took her hand and moved it back to her side.
“Markus,” she cooed this time.
“Mel, whatever it is, it has to wait. I do not want to talk. End of story.”
Not taking the hint, she arched one of her finely shaped eyebrows. Ignoring her stare, he slid past her, and walked towards the front door.
“Sports TV in Sydney is interested in you.”
That stopped him in his tracks, and he turned around slowly.
“Sports TV wants you,” she repeated.
Everything inside him stilled. For a moment he wasn’t able to think.
Television.
“They want you as a commentator for the Asian Soccer Cup and possibly the next world cup. Contract initially for two years.”
“Holy fucking shit,” he whispered as he rubbed both his hands over his face. It was close to an opportunity of a lifetime. When he’d come back from England over twelve months earlier, he’d known it was a career suicide not to accept an offer to play straight away, but he’d been worn out, tired, and needed to reassess what he wanted to do. Mike had given him hell, telling him he was in the prime of his life being only in his late twenties, but he’d ignored him, sat back, and lived life for once instead of following a schedule, diet, and training. Then he’d got lost in his thoughts over the last twelve months and was out of the game. No one was interested in a goalie who took a break for a year.