“You really need to sleep, don’t you?”
Alex nodded and the tears started to build behind her eyes again.
“Are you expected anywhere?”
She shook her head, didn’t trust herself to speak. Where was the dickhead boyfriend when she needed him?
“Bedroom is there.” He pointed to the open doorway. “Bathroom is there, use whatever you need. I’ll get you a fresh towel and a t-shirt to sleep in.”
Alex looked up. “In your bed?”
“Yeah, I can crash on the couch.” He watched her face crumple. “Don’t start again, baby. You’ll make yourself sick.” Ah, where did that ‘baby’ come from, slipped out, twice now, he hadn’t meant it. It was the word he used when he couldn’t remember a woman’s name, and he’d never forget Alex’s, it was branded on his brain the moment he met her.
He pulled her upright and took her hand, led her to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh towel from the linen press and a blue t-shirt from the pile of clean laundry in a basket on the floor, and shut her inside.
In Dan’s original 1930’s bathroom with its pedestal green basin and tiny multicoloured tiles, Alex started crying again. Everything was wrong about being here, about telling him anything. Dan was being so kind. She’d never even treated him all that nicely, all those mixed signals, all that straight talk about what was and wasn’t acceptable to her. She’d just about told him he wasn’t good enough for her, so she didn’t deserve this. It upset her all over again.
She did deserve every lesson her mother was going to serve up with vitriol on her tongue and retribution in her eyes when she found out what Phil had done. What Alex had been stupid enough to let him do. But thinking about Dan’s kindness, she pulled herself together. It was some awful time in the morning and she’d been crying all over him and he’d just given up his bed for her. She washed her face, borrowed his toothbrush, and put his big blue shirt on over her underwear. She was so tired, if she could maybe just lie down for an hour or two it would be ok, she’d be able to face the world again.
Jeff met her in the kitchen an expectant look on his doggy face and a wary wag in his tail. Dan was nowhere to be seen. She called for him and he came out of the bedroom with a pillow in his hand.
She looked so cute in his shirt, the sleeves hanging down around her elbows, the hem scraping her knees. He’d stuck a t-shirt on too, he should have done that earlier, but she’d been in his arms, crying on his chest the whole time. He gave her a gentle smile and stood back to usher her into the bedroom.
This was a first. A woman in his home, about to be in his bed, one whom he’d neither invited or expected and wasn’t going to fuck.
“Fresh sheets. Sleep as long as you want in the morning. I’m not going anywhere.” He’d planned to hit the surf before work, but he’d give that up in a flash to have breakfast with her. “Call out if you need anything. I’m in the next room.”
Alex stood in the doorway of Dan’s bedroom. The king size slat bed was made with fresh white sheets and a light cotton weave blanket. There was a yellow and blue long board propped against an old wooden wardrobe and a tall boy belonging to the same era as the tiles in the bathroom and the kitchen table. The surfaces and walls were clean and bare except for a stack of books in the corner. The floor was the same honey colour as the hallway and kitchen and he’d lit a tea light under some fragrant oil – lavender – and turned a bedside light on.
The clean t-shirt, the remade bed, the almost clinically tidy room, the lavender, his courtesy and care for her were enough to make Alex tear up again. This from a man she’d labelled a player. So unexpected. So confusing. If she hadn’t suspected he’d care, why had she come here? She turned to watch Dan spread another sheet over the couch in the lounge room. It was at best a two-and-a-half seater. He’d have to sleep curled up like a cashew.
“You can’t sleep there.”
“Sure I can.”
“No, you can’t. I can fit on the couch better than you can.”
He sat and arranged his pillow on the couch arm, it fell off and he looked at her and laughed. “It is going to be interesting.” Then he pointed back to the bedroom and said quite sternly, “Go.”
Alex nodded, choked out a raw thank you, and left him before she started blubbering again. In Dan’s bedroom she pulled back the cotton blanket and turned out the bedside light. This felt odd, being in Dan’s bed. Him outside. Him being such a gentleman. The whimpering at the closed door was just part of the oddness.
“Jeff, come away. Sorry Alex,” said Dan, outside the door. “He wants to come in with you.”
She sat up and turned the bedside light back on. “He can come in, Dan.”
“Are you sure?” Dan cracked the door open, but held Jeff by the collar. “He usually sleeps under the bed.”
“Yes, it’s fine.” She couldn’t put the man and his dog out of their beds.
The door swung wider and the brown dog trotted in, a happy waggle to his backside. He went straight under the bed and they heard the thump as he hit the floor.
Dan had his head poked around the doorway to make sure Jeff didn’t do something stupid like jump on the bed. He met Alex’s eyes. “Sleep well.” He went to pull the door closed. She looked so lonely in his big bed, he wanted to climb in beside her and hold her, but that was such a stupendously dumb idea.
“Don’t go, Dan.”
Her broken request was a stinging whip crack to his restraint. “Ah, yeah, I should. You need to sleep.”
“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out there.”
“I can’t be in here with you.”
“It’s a big bed. You held me when I cried. You gave me lavender. I trust you.”
“Ah,” he hesitated. What to say, what to do? The couch wasn’t going to work, but neither was being in bed with Alex. But she said she trusted him. And she could. He was not going to mess with this woman. She was his teacher, his partner, and – maybe if he was lucky – his friend. Yeah, he could do this. He could go to bed with a beautiful, sad woman and not do anything with her except sleep. Wondering what Fluke would say about that almost made him laugh.
“Ok, if you’re sure. Half a night on that couch might have ended my career as your partner anyway.” He disappeared to fetch his pillow, giving her enough time to change her mind.
When he came into the room proper, Alex met his gaze easily and flicked back the covers so he saw an expanse of slender thigh before he climbed in beside her. This was a test and, fuck it, he was going to pass. From under the bed Jeff gave a whine of contentment.
So not to tempt fate and a big fat epic fail, he turned on his side facing away from Alex and snuggled down on his pillow. “Night, Alex. Try and sleep, baby.” Shit, there was that word again, but he meant it kindly. He rushed on to say, “It’ll seem a whole lot better in the morning,” hoping she’d focus on the last part of the sentence, not the slimy endearment.
She said, “Thank you, Dan,” and her voice was a cut up whisper that made him clench his teeth to hear it. Yeah, he could do this. She was hurt and lost and confused and if he wanted her as a friend, then this is what being her friend meant.
It was hours later when he woke. Light was beginning to seep into the room through the venetian blinds. Alex was sitting on the edge of the bed away from him, head down, her long swoosh of hair lose and fanning over her back. She wasn’t crying, but she was awake and obviously distressed. He scooted across and swung around to sit beside her, blinking at the neon time, five-sixteen, way too early. “Can’t sleep?”
“I’m sorry. I should go, leave you in peace.”
“Have you slept at all?”
“No. I just keep thinking about how stupid I am. How I deserve it.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
There was a long pause and a deep sigh. “I’ve left Phil. He was two-timing me.”
“He has another girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“A current, alive an
d kicking girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Shit!”
“How did you find out?”
“It occurred to me to ask and he didn’t lie.”
“Shit!”
Alex exhaled deep and some of the tension left her body, and when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, she didn’t resist. She came willingly, laying her head on his shoulder. He said, “Bastard,” and there was venom rumbling in his voice that made her flinch, made him check himself. He stroked her arm. “How long were you together?”
“Two years.” Her voice broke and the tears started again. “I’m such a dummy. He spent a lot of time travelling. He used to cancel things at short notice, often worked late and at odd hours over the weekend. I trusted him. I never thought to question him. I just never thought.”
“Alex, don’t cry. That bastard isn’t worth your tears. Get mad, girl. That’s what Scott would say, right? Get mad, don’t stay hurt. Don’t let this get to you.”
Dan ducked his head down to see her face. Her expression told him this was too soon for a pep talk. “Ah, Alex,” he bit his tongue to stop another ‘baby’ slipping out, then pulled her back into the bed proper and lay back, patting his chest, offering her a hug that she willingly took up, laying herself by his side and resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and rocked her gently.
Eventually she relaxed in his arms, her breathing steadied, and her eyes drifted downwards, but Dan’s thoughts were a chaotic jumble, one minute focused on finding Phil and making him pay for what he’d done to Alex, the next lost in the mystery of having her in his bed, being able to hold her, breathe the sultry spicy perfume of her warm skin and pretend she’d run to him instead of away from Phil.
When Dan woke again, he was alone, the clock glowed seven, and the space beside him was still warm. He could hear clattering in the kitchen and, given Jeff had yet to show any talents with a fry pan, he figured he was getting a home-cooked breakfast this morning, courtesy of his surprise overnight guest. He got out of bed with a joy he knew he’d need to temper.
“Morning,” he said from the bedroom doorway, still in what he’d worn to bed. He knew he looked rumpled, his hair a scribbled mess, stubble decorating his face, but she turned and smiled at him all the same.
“Morning yourself. How do you like your eggs?”
“Anyway you want to serve them. I’m just happy I had some.”
“You had bacon too.”
“There is a God.”
“Tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, but I’ll do it.”
“No, please let me. It’s the least I can do to make up for last night.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Alex shook her head and filled the kettle. She knew that staying to make Dan breakfast had been the right thing to do despite her embarrassment. She was glad she’d dressed properly too. It was time to get over the tears and tantrums and the wholly uncomfortable fact she’d shown up here in such a state, slept in Dan’s bed, and, worse, lay in his arms, enraptured by his steady heart beat and fantasised about what it would be like to make love with him.
“I want to know if there’s anything I can do to help,” he said, his voice morning husky.
“You’ve done enough, Dan, truly. I wasn’t in my right mind last night. I don’t really understand why I came here. It was unfair to you. We haven’t even known each other that long and we agreed on the ground rules and then I come barging in here in the middle of the night crying everywhere.”
“Alex, it’s fine. A bit of a surprise, sure, but hey, I got to have a sexy girl in my bed and a cooked breakfast.”
Alex turned away, but not before Dan saw the look in her eyes, resignation and disappointment. The sexy girl line was just what she’d be worried about this morning, that he’d make last night into something crass. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”
“It’s ok.”
“It’s not. I haven’t had much practice at this being supportive with a girl friend thing before.”
“What?”
“I don’t mean girlfriend, I mean girl and friend, two separate words.” He came around the table and stood beside her at the sink. “You are a friend, right? And all you needed last night was for me to be a friend, right?”
She nodded.
“What I’m saying is you kinda had me on my toes there. Not skilled with crying friends.”
Alex turned fully to him. “Am I supposed to believe you’ve never had a crying girl on your hands before?”
“Crying girls, as in I caused them to cry – yeah, been there plenty of times.” He dropped his head, suddenly heavy with the memories of women with mascara stains on their faces, Katie among them. “But this was different for me, so I hope I did ok?”
She said softly, “You were amazing,” and he almost missed it over the sizzle of the bacon and the whistle of the kettle. She was so withdrawn now, cool and professional Alex, the change making him nervous in his own kitchen.
Alex served up hot buttery toast, scrambled eggs, and crispy bacon, and, with the food and coffee, they both started to feel a little more awake, a little more human. But Alex wasn’t saying much and Dan could see that she wanted to cut and run. He didn’t blame her.
At the front door, being quiet with each other blossomed into full blown awkwardness, the two of them trying not to touch in the narrow hallway, with Jeff tangling between their legs. Dan opened the door and stood back to let Alex through, Jeff choosing the moment to throw himself bodily across the doorstep.
“Out!” he snapped, making both Jeff and Alex start. Jeff retreated to the landing and Dan said, “Sorry.” He didn’t want Alex to go, but knew she would. She shouldered her bag and moved past him.
“Alex.” She turned back. “A friend would give you a hug right about now, if you’d let him?’’ He opened his arms just like he’d done in the hallway only a few hours ago. She hesitated, then walked into his arms and he folded her into a hug while she rested her forehead on his chest. As she lifted her eyes to look at him, he placed a soft kiss on her cheek, like the one she’d first given him. “Take it easy, Alex.”
She nodded and he released her. She stepped around Jeff and was gone, leaving Dan confused, concerned, and bloody grateful his farewell had included her proper name and not his habitual see-a-girl-off-in-the-hallway failsafe.
“There’s this bloke at work, he’s got this mate who’s a girl, and he’s got a steady girlfriend. And last night, the friend who’s a girl, not the girlfriend, has a sleep over. You with me? Anyway this guy wants us to believe it’s all innocent and nothing happened. It’s completely suss, if you ask me,” said Ant, downing his beer.
“It’s not suss,” said Fluke. “I’ve slept with a girl without fucking her.”
“Why!” said Ant, nearly swallowing the bottle.
“God, Ant. It’s not so far-fetched.”
“Not for you.”
“Sandy, she was my best friend at teacher’s college. We were flatmates, but there was no attraction. She had a boyfriend. She’s married to him now. We were just really good mates.”
“So what? You’d get in her bed?”
“She’d get in mine. We’d lay there and talk. It was great. Sometimes we’d just fall asleep. There was nothing too it.”
Ant was shaking his head in complete disbelief. “Only you, Fluke.”
Dan said, “And me,” and immediately wished he’d kept it to himself, but it was so fresh and raw and he was keyed up about seeing Alex in the next hour for their regular lesson.
“You wouldn’t have the rank stupidity or the self-control to have a girl in your bed and not molest the fuck out of her,” Ant scoffed.
“Well, I must, because I have,” he said, knowing he had to tough it out.
“You!” Ant exploded.
“Yep and she was beautiful too, and I... we just went to sleep.”
“What else were you goin
g to say then?” asked Mitch.
Dan slow blinked. “I was going to say I held her and she went to sleep on my chest and it was nice, but you bastards would just think that was more lies.” He was remembering how nice it had felt, to lay with Alex and feel her relax and watch her fall asleep. If she hadn’t been so upset, it would’ve been kind of magical.
“Who was the chick?” Ant fired across the table.
“Never mind.”
“Nah, you’ve gotta tell us now,” Ant said, getting right up in his face. “Do we know her? Ah, just looking at you I know we do. Who was it?”
“Not was – Is. And that’s the thing, Ant. She’s a friend, so it wouldn’t be right for me to brag about it, now would it?”
“A friend?” said Fluke. “Like a girl who’s a friend? When did this happen?”
“When you lot weren’t watching. Thank God.”
35. History of a Kiss
She wanted to go back to bed, shout at her mother, skip her morning lecture, and pound something, anything, so hard it smashed to bits. But she only had to do one thing instead: think about Dan.
Sylvia predictably raged. Alex had heard it all before. Men were not to be trusted. It was their nature to be self-serving opportunists. Romance was a construct designed to make women weak and dependent. Love was invented by poets, lust was just hormones. She had to admit in the light of the Phil affair, it all sounded reasonable.
Gran predictably made tea. She brought out the good cups and saucers and Alex wasn’t sure if that was meant to be cheering or her subtle way of celebrating the demise of Phil. She liked to think it was the latter.
She thought of Phil and felt nothing. At first she figured it must be numbness, the shock of absence. Any minute now the awfulness would flood in and leave her reeling like she had been in the early morning, half out of her brain with distress. But by her second cup of tea, she knew that wasn’t right. She wasn’t numb, she was angry with herself for being so taken in by him. In so many ways he’d shown he didn’t care, wasn’t really interested, and she’d chosen to ignore his signals. Did she think she could change him, make him more responsive? Yes, that’s exactly what she’d thought. She was thick with the stupidity of that choice, swollen with the comprehension she’d let a man be so important to her she’d compromised her own desires.
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