He grimaces, as if it’s painful for him to blink. Jeez, I’m so selfish. Stop thinking with what’s between your legs Liz. Your sex god is in pain.
I get up from the stool and feel his head with the back of my hand to see how warm he is. He has no temperature. He’s as cool as always.
“Stop fretting.” He holds my wrist. “I’m absolutely fine. I’m used to these now.” He returns to the sizzling pan. “So, scrambled eggs and bacon good for you?”
“Yes... that’s fine.” Shit, stop sniggering Liz.
He tips the crispy bacon and eggs onto a rectangular plate, staring with a low brow. “You find the sight of me cooking amusing?”
No, not amusing. More unexpected and wonderful. Suck it all in Liz, this is about as good as it gets.
“So...” I pick up a rasher and nibble. “You sleep well?”
He leans over again and my eyes drink in his body. He’s filling me up. He’s the substance of my view and is much better than the food before me. If we’re going to have a mature tête-a-tête, get to know each other, I need to stop my eyes scanning every inch of his skin.
“I rest. Never sleep,” he says. “Besides, I was quite distracted by the strange sounds you were making.”
Oh god, I wasn’t snoring like a hog next to him was I? I narrow my eyes as a blush rushes over my cheeks.
“It wasn’t bad, Elizabeth.” He snickers. “It was just the odd charming squeak and moan. It was very sweet.”
Sweet is not the way I’d describe sleeping noises. I myself hate any noise while trying to get some shut-eye. It has to be still, dark, and silent. So to hear that I’m a night time squeaker, is mortifying.
“Sorry for keeping you up,” I shame.
“Stop it. I told you I don’t need sleep,” he says, dropping the burnt crusted pan into the sink.
I notice the small portion on my plate and the mess he’s made in the kitchen. He’s had everything out of the cupboards. There’s even a bag of rice and a packet of herbs that has been spilt across the hobs. Eggshells, a dozen at least left on the worktop. And a pool of milk next to the kettle.
I finish the rasher of bacon and take my plate to the waste disposal unit. “What are your plans for Thursday?”
“Thursday?”
“Christmas. Have you forgot?”
I suppose it also seems irrelevant to me now. Who needs Christmas anyhow? I have Adrien Knight, and he’s a lifetime of Christmases to me, all rolled into one.
“I don’t really do Christmas.” His entire mood has suddenly become miserable.
“Okay.” I sigh, cautious of his sudden gloom. “What about your family; do you not see them over the festive period?”
Even the bah-humbugs of this world can’t escape it. The dreaded family visit. The once a year occurrence, where no one has a thing to say until they are all tanked up on wine. And with that, all grievances come to the surface.
“My real parents died a long time ago,” he mumbles so I have to stretch my ears to listen. “My adoptive parents have also passed away.”
Oh crap. Foot in it Liz. I should keep my big trap shut. If he wanted to discuss his family, he would have brought it up himself.
“Sorry,” I cringe.
“It’s fine. I’m over it.” He pauses for too long, as though grief has swallowed him up. “It’s something I never really speak of.”
The sound of tense nothingness has taken hold. I would open my mouth, if it wasn’t for the fear of my foot getting well and truly stuck between my teeth again. I hum out awkwardly with my eyes aimed on the garden.
“Will you be partaking in the usual festivities?” he asks as though he’s managed to shake off the dark feeling, sitting down on one of the stools across from me.
Oh god Liz. You should have choked on that bacon. My Christmases are well, let’s just say, loud, garish, and unavoidable.
“Hmm... the usual.”
“Your parents?” He stares, waiting for the full shameful programme I have to endure. “I get the feeling you want me to be quiet on this subject, but I won’t.” He sniggers, still waiting.
A light growl escapes from my mouth. I have to tell him. I’m shit at lying, so I can’t just make something up.
“Okay, my mum, her name is Ruby. She has the whole house looking like a Santa’s grotto, and has me wearing some stupid reindeer jumper. Her and my step dad, Geoff, love Christmas.”
“Step Dad?” he enquires.
“Yep. Mum has married a grand total of three times. Poor Geoff has hung on in there for the record.”
“What happened to your real dad?”
Why is he probing me on this topic I’d rather not discuss? I guess he did just confide in me about his parents. I have to. God, I have to tell him now don’t I?
“Well,” my tone stretches. “My dad cheated, so Mum kicked him out. Then she went on some woman empowerment course, quit her job as a school secretary, and opened a sex toy shop exclusively for women in the town centre of Richmond. So I’d like this subject to end now... please.” There, it’s all out, and fast. Done and dusted now.
His eyes have expanded to full range, and his grin is one of, ‘who’d have thought it, Liz’s Mum owns a sex shop.’
He doesn’t know the half of it. I will spend most of the day with her offering me tips on how to hook a man. How to sexually satisfy him and myself. And how to empower my body and mind, using a frigging battery operated adult toy. She got me one last year. A brand new purple rampant rabbit. I opened the damn thing in front of the whole family. Needless to say it was immediately handed back to her. And she was told then, if she ever does anything like that again, it would be the last Christmas I ever spend with her. She agreed and told me I needed to relax. Even tried to give me the rabbit back.
I turn on the tap and begin to swill the plate, with the dread of that upcoming day looming over me.
Adrien arches across to me and turns off the faucet. “That can wait. The caretaker will deal with it when we’ve gone.”
He’s made me cross. He made the mess, and I really don’t mind clearing it up.
“That’s not a very nice attitude to have.” I twist the tap back on.
He turns it off again. “Would you like me to tell you how much her salary is for looking after this place?” His eyes are stern and voice is stark. I like it. “She’ll be the top paid cleaner in this country, so leave it,” he maintains. “I need you to get ready anyhow. We have exactly one hour before our slot.”
I pout at him. He’s taking me out for some kind of appointment? I study his face, but he’s not giving me anything but a wayward grin. A naughty grin I want to attack with my lips.
“You’re not going to tell me are you?”
“Ah-ah.” He nods, folding his arms across his strong bare chest. “Wear sensible clothing. No heels. Boots are fine. Oh, and please take this.” He holds out a tonic.
I bite my lip and stare at him, snatching the tonic bottle as I head toward the staircase.
I HAD NO IDEA IT WAS so late. It is now five in the afternoon, and I’m sitting in the Jeep as Adrien drives us to our mysterious date. He’s still not let on where it is we’re going. Other than the odd complacent grin, he’s keeping schtum. His attire is outdoorsy: blue jeans, brown chunky boots, V-neck black t-shirt, and a grey fleece.
I focus outside. All that is visible in the headlights is the frost coated shrubbery lining the narrow country road.
My patience is now wearing thin. I’m not used to not having any sense of control, and I don’t like it when I don’t know what’s coming my way. I blow out loudly. He’s going to have to give me some clue, and soon.
We turn left into some woodland country car park. Is this it; are we going on some night time hiking trip?
I see a charming white building, similar to a big cottage with warm lights radiating from the windows. Adrien unclips his belt. Maybe it’s a cosy country pub, where we’ll have a nice meal by an open fire.
“Ready.” He breat
hes out, opening his door.
He stands outside adjusting his jeans. I get out and notice we’re the only car parked here.
He makes his way to the door before me, quietly. There’s a sign above the window: Killiecrankie Visitors Centre. That’s not a very good name for a public house. He waits for me to arrive at his side, then grabs my hand with a reassuring grip. I’m feeling unsettled as he squeezes my fingers like a stress ball.
We go through a glass panel door. It’s warm, sure it is, but this is no pub. There’s a counter with postcards and tacky gifts, like huge pencils with toggles on the end. It really is a visitor’s centre. I tug on his hand. Now it’s time for him to tell me what this is all about. He peers down at me as I scrunch up my forehead.
A man comes out from a door behind the counter with the logo: Highland Fling, printed on his jacket. Oh, what the heck is this? Is he taking me for Scottish dance lessons? That is the only Highland Fling I know. Open your mouth Liz, and shout if you have to. If he’s expecting me to wear a kilt, and jig around with my arms above my head, I’m out of here.
“Welcome, Mr Knight. I’m Shaun, and I’m going to be your instructor for this evening,” the guy says in a Scottish accent. “We are delighted for the first time to be able to do this in December.” He smiles at me. “The conditions are spot on. So, if you would just sign this, then we can get you kitted up.”
Adrien pulls a sheet of paper across to his waist. He takes out his own personal silver pen, and squiggles his initials. I quickly dip my head to the side to try and see, but he knows what I’m up to and quickly slides it back toward Shaun. I stamp my foot. It’s something I’ve never noticed myself do before now.
He turns, placing his fingers on my cheeks, then presses his lips on mine for a brisk kiss. “You’re going to love this. Hired the whole place for us.”
“Will you tell me what the hell I am going to love?”
“You’ll soon see.” He winks.
“Would you both like to follow me,” Shaun says as I reluctantly stand back with my jaw hanging open in confusion.
“Elizabeth.” Adrien pulls on my arm.
We go through a door at the back of the gift shop, through a small corridor, and out into a room with shelving units full of mountaineering equipment. There’s a woman lying out straps and carabineer clips. Hell, she’s pulling thick cords from the shelf, asking Shaun about tandem weights and drops. Drop the fuck where? I freeze up. I’ve gone ice-cold and feel all peculiar.
“Elizabeth, come on.” Adrien pulls me out of my trance as Shaun takes an array of equipment through another door.
I linger behind as we walk out into the still cold night, and along a terrifying metal bridge I can see right through. My legs weaken with each step. This is not my idea of a romantic date.
“Miss Lovell, please could you slip your legs through this?” the woman asks as I grip onto a side rail, shaking my head in refusal.
Adrien lets go of my hand and begins to get buckled up. He seems to know what he’s doing and helps Shaun secure clips, pulling the straps tight. He waves me over, but hell no. Anything that involves this amount of safety equipment, on a goddamn crisscross bridge that comes to an abrupt end, of course is making me stay put. Is this a joke? Am I having some bizarre dream right now?
“Guys, would you mind leaving us for a few minutes?” Adrien says. “I guess I need to come clean.”
You don’t need to Adrien. I’ve kind of gathered what you want me to do.
I keel over with my arms folded across my belly, breathing in and out deeply. Shaun follows the woman back into the shop as I stay very still. If I move any closer to that edge, my legs will give-way.
“Elizabeth, give me your hand,” he sweet-talks. “Come on, I’ve done this a thousand times before.” He gestures me over in a persuading way.
Jeez, how does he do it; make me do as I’m told? Putting me at ease with a few pacifying words.
I hold out my hand with trembling cold fingers. He takes my arm and gently guides me closer to a solid platform. It’s pitch-black, apart from spotlights shining in the snow coated trees over the ravine. It resembles a scene from a fantasy. A stunning winter forest of shadows across the way. But how can I appreciate a thing when my heart is pounding so violently, and I think I might just blackout at any moment. I’m now one step away from the edge, and I can’t look.
Adrien presses his hands firmly on my shoulders. If his aim here is to try and talk me around, it’s not going to work. I focus on his chest with a quivering breath.
“Look at me.” He lifts my chin so I see a golden glimmer cast within his dark limbal ring. “Look down, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s to be embraced.”
“What?” I snap.
He’s confusing me. He’s not making any logical sense at all. Jumping to your death has to be embraced?
“Fear. You embrace it, and it doesn’t affect you anymore.”
“So, you want me to jump off this ledge, and embrace my impending death?” I try to look down again, but only manage a one second glance.
“Elizabeth, when you look into the darkness you have two choices,” he says with his hand on my cheek, gazing affectionately. “You either fall into it, so you’ll never fear the unknown again, or you stay on the ledge, always wondering what’s there. Torturing yourself over it.” He’s making me all squidgy inside again. Damn your slick words Adrien. “Elizabeth, I live in the abyss, and would like you to leap into the unknown with me.” He compresses his jaw. “Will you join me?”
I sigh out the fear. He’s done it. My heart’s summersaulting and I’m queasy with dread. But he’s right. Now I’m here, if I don’t do it, I’ll always remember the time I didn’t, and think what would it have been like if I did.
“Well, a nice country pub would have been more suitable,” I say, forcing a petrified smile.
“You’ll be with me all the way,” he says with a sly beam. “Trust me.”
“Okay. I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.”
“Would you have agreed if I told you?”
“Hell no.”
He kisses me and calls out for the instructors to come back.
THE TOE OF MY BOOT is only inches from the edge. I’m harnessed and secured to Adrien with my head on his chest and eyelids closed tight. I clutch to the straps on his back and feel the bungee cord, holding my breath. The woman instructor tugs on the bottom of my harness and I wobble. Oh fuck, I’m going to fall before I jump if I carry on trembling like this.
“Open your eyes.” Adrien sniggers.
“Will you stop laughing!” I growl. “This isn’t funny!”
“Open your eyes, Elizabeth.”
“Shit, what the hell have you got me into?”
His chest vibrates with amusement as his arms clasp around my waist. “Look at me. You’re perfectly safe.”
I grit my teeth so hard my gums hurt. I peel one eye open with my head facing the gangway. Shaun smiles at me and I feel like telling him to piss-off. I look up at Adrien, terrified.
“You keep them open all the way,” he says. “And don’t breathe in the water.”
“Water!” Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.
Shaun positions Adrien and I, so we’re sideways and in position to fall. “You’re ready to go,” he states, running his hand high up the cord.
“I’m going to die tonight aren’t I?” I squeak.
“Not tonight.” He grins down at me. “Elizabeth, I’m going to lean with you.”
Oh my god. Breathe Liz, breathe.
I grip onto Adrien so hard my fingers throb. He leans, and holy crap, we’re falling. I’m silent. Winded in utter terror. Then strangely, my body becomes ignited. Alight with an intense high of excitement.
The adrenalin rushes through my blood and into my inverted head. Adrien yowls out as I hang onto him for dear life. Our heads suddenly submerge in the chill of the unseen river for a millisecond, then the kickback of the bungee cord springs us bac
k up so we’re soaring high. I can see the floodlit snow coated branches all around us. This is actually incredible. I let out quick panicky gasps as Adrien continues to howl in enjoyment.
“You kept your eyes open.” He holds me in his arms as we swing with air whooshing all around us.
I was brave. I did. And wow, I’m glad. It’s as though I’ve just cheated death. Yes, I’m attached to Adrien and the gangway above. But if it were my time, then this cord would have failed, and it didn’t.
We’re slowly hoisted upward. My chest is still puffing out the air. I’m as pliable as play-dough, and the blood rushing through my upside-down head heats my face.
“That was pretty amazing,” I exhale.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He sweeps the hair from my eyes. “How do you feel about skydiving?” I gasp loudly in alarm. “I’m just messing with you.” He cranks up his head to kiss my temple.
We’re unclipped, unstrapped, and let loose. I can’t walk without a weird weak wobble, and I have to hold onto Adrien’s arm for support as we make our way back into the warm shop.
My hair is a mess, so I tuck it behind my ears as Adrien thanks the staff. I’m still buzzing from head to foot. It’s so strange how energised I feel after doing something so dangerous. If he asked me, I would most definitely do that again.
Adrien holds my hand as we make our way back to the car. He frequently glances to me as though he’s very proud I leapt. He pulls out his keys and I snatch them playfully. I’ve not finished tonight, and I’m in need of something to give me that thrill again.
“Let me drive.” I wave the keys.
“After that, you feel okay to drive?”
He thinks I can’t handle this car. I’ve been dying to drive it since we got here. It’s a four-by-four and we’re in the countryside. What better way to end the night, than to participate in a little off-roading.
“Well,” I flirt. “You have just made me jump off a bridge. So really, you owe me.”
He laughs with an eye roll. “Fine.” He walks to the passenger side. “It’s insured.”
I climb into the driver’s seat. It’s so high and snug compared to my Beryl. I pull over the belt, start the bad boy up, and take a few seconds to familiarise myself with the dashboard. It can’t be that difficult to drive with it being an automatic. I flick on the headlights, press the handbrake button, and we begin to roll.
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