Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
I ’m momentarily confused when I wake up in the morning. I’m somewhere new, and at first, when I come back to consciousness, I’m slightly startled. My eyes take in a different view, and my ears hear different sounds, and my skin is aware of different sensations.
The confusion lasts only a few seconds before it’s replaced by a sense of profound contentment. The memories of the night before rush back over me, and I blush immediately.
I have never known myself to be so uninhibited, so wild, so free.
So lost in physical delight. Honestly, it feels a little like the first time I have ever truly had sex.
The other times, the other men, were so insignificant in comparison.
I genuinely didn’t know that my body was capable of giving and receiving such pleasure.
Making love with Aidan was literally a mind-blowing experience.
In fact I’m not sure my mind will ever recover.
I’m a person usually driven by my brain, by my thoughts, by logic, but last night my mind was nowhere to be found.
Last night my body was in charge, and it was a revelation.
Is that what it’s like for other people?
Is this what I’ve been missing out on? How have I never known about this?
I’m almost fifty and I’ve slept with a grand total of five men.
It is not a lot, but it is enough for comparison.
The verdict is that before Aidan, I might as well not have bothered.
He made me feel things I’d never felt before, took me to heights I’d never dreamt possible, and then held me in his arms as I fell asleep.
He is lying next to me still, one of his legs flung possessively over mine, one arm above his head.
His hair is messed up and his chest is slowly rising and falling in a deep sleep.
I wriggle onto my side and stare at him, remembering the time back in my flat when he caught me doing exactly this.
Except now I’m allowed to touch as well as look.
He has given me permission, and just as importantly so have I.
I reach out and let my hand trail over his shoulder.
His eyes slowly open, and when he focuses enough to see me, his face breaks out into the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen from him. And I’ve seen a few.
‘Hey,’ he says, quietly. ‘You’re still here.’
‘Wasn’t I supposed to be?’
‘I hoped you would be. But I also thought maybe you’d disappear in the night.’
‘That doesn’t sound like me,’ I reply, laughing inside. That so sounds like me. ‘And anyway, I was too tired after all that… activity.’
He runs his fingers through my dishevelled hair, and I have a brief moment of self-consciousness.
I must look a mess, what with last night’s make-up and this morning’s bedhead on top of the fact that I haven’t brushed my teeth.
He kisses me, and I immediately forget all about such matters.
He doesn’t seem to mind. Within seconds, he is letting me know pretty directly that he doesn’t mind at all.
One thing leads to another, and the next half hour passes in a blur of mutual pleasure.
When he finally gets out of bed, he struts towards the window, bare-ass naked and without an ounce of embarrassment.
In fact he obviously knows I’m watching, and gives a little shimmy as he opens the curtains.
Pale sunlight pours into the room. I wonder what time it is.
‘I need to see to the dogs,’ he says, tugging on joggers and a T-shirt. ‘Then I’ll be back up with coffee. Sound good?’
‘Sounds amazing. Though I probably need a shower.’
He pauses in the doorway and grins at me. ‘Well, you could take a shower. But in the interest of transparency, I’m planning on getting you good and dirty again very soon…’
I blush and hold my hands to my face. Why is it that after everything this man has done to me, after everything I’ve done to him, he can still make my cheeks flame?
He winks at me, clearly very satisfied with himself, and disappears from the room. I lie there for a few moments wondering if I should pinch myself. Is any of this real? Is it all a dream? Can it actually be happening?
I practically float along the landing to the bathroom, and although I don’t have a shower, I use the facilities and rub my teeth with a bit of paste on my finger.
It’s better than nothing. I look at myself in the mirror and almost don’t recognise the person staring back at me.
Yes, my hair is a mess, and yes, Morticia’s eye liner is no longer a straight line, but there is a sparkle to my eyes that was not there yesterday.
I smile at my reflection, and say: ‘Brazen hussy. Going back for seconds, are we?’
Of course I am. Although technically I’m going back for fifths.
It was a busy night, and neither of us got a lot of sleep.
I climb back under the covers and try not to think.
When I start to think, I inevitably end up in trouble, and I don’t want to come down from this high.
I don’t want to analyse or define or worry about what it all means.
This was wonderful, spectacular sex. With a man I like.
I don’t need to overcomplicate it or poke it until hornets fly out.
It is okay, I tell myself, to simply enjoy the moment.
That’s not one of my specialist skills, so I distract myself by trying to wrinkle out some creases in my next plot instead. By the time Aidan comes back bearing delicious-smelling coffee, I’m frowning.
‘You okay?’ he asks, looking at my expression as he passes me a mug. He pulls his top off, and my eyes roam his perfectly formed torso. Cor blimey. It’s like I’ve fallen into an alternate reality.
‘I am,’ I reply, as he climbs in next to me. ‘I was just thinking about work. Tricky plot point.’
‘Ah, I get it. That’s cool. I thought maybe you were having second thoughts and actually considering knotting the sheets together to climb out the window.’
‘Would I really need to do that? Couldn’t I just leave through the front door? If I wanted to leave, I mean.’
‘And do you?’ he asks, quirking an eyebrow at me. It sounds like a genuine question, and I remind myself that this is new for him, too.
‘Not right now. But I’d be lying if I said I was good at dealing with stuff like this.’
He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Stuff like this?’
‘Yeah. You know. Stuff.’
‘Right. That makes it much clearer. And I know you’re not good at it; that’s why I made the crack about you climbing out the window. I thought maybe you’d freak out. That all this “stuff” might be too much. All this love, to give it its correct term.’
I stare at him, completely taken aback by his use of the L word.
Only two men have ever used the L word on me.
One of them was my husband, who went on to have multiple affairs behind my back, and the other was Scott Jones, an already-married psycho stalker who was living under a fake identity when he said it.
Two men loved me, two liars who shattered me in different ways.
That is not a good track record or something I expected to hear from Aidan.
It trips me up, and my anxiety levels spike.
What if Aidan turns out to be like them?
He’s shown no signs of that, but then again, neither did they to start with…
I can see that my silence is hurting him, and I bite my lip in an attempt to stop myself spiralling.
‘You don’t have to say it back, Sarah, but I needed to say it myself. I’m in love with you. I was already pretty far gone before last night, but now… well, there’s no hope for me now. I love you.’
His phone rings on the bedside cabinet. He glances down at it and shakes his head before swiping to ignore it.
It should have given me the split second I needed to formulate an appropriate response to what he’s just said.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t, and I’m still gaping at him when he looks up at me.
‘You know,’ he says, sipping his coffee, ‘most women wouldn’t look absolutely disgusted at me telling them I love them. Like I said, you don’t have to say it back… but do you really feel that horrified?’
He sounds genuinely upset, and I give myself a mental slap around the head. ‘Of course I’m not horrified. But I’m also not… most women.’
He looks deep into my eyes, and whatever he sees there makes him frown.
I think he sees I’m shutting down, backing off.
He knows me well enough to see the signs.
I can’t bear the disappointment on his face, but I don’t know how to fix this.
I don’t know how to be normal. Right now, I don’t even know how to speak.
I want to explain myself, to tell him that the men who declared their love for me were the ones who inflicted nothing but pain.
I want to tell him that I like him, at the very least…
but for some reason, I’m freezing. It’s similar to the response I have when I’m physically afraid, or when somebody takes me by surprise.
I know my face doesn’t quite reveal it, but inside I’m currently paralysed.
‘No. No, you’re not, are you? Will we see each other again, or was this just a one-night deal for you? No pressure, but I’m a huge fan of the truth when it comes to matters of the heart.’
Of course he is. He lost his last partner to his own overcompetitive father. Who wouldn’t prefer honesty once they’d had that happen to them?
‘I’m not sure,’ I manage to mutter, the only few words that I can string together under this level of scrutiny. It’s the truth. I genuinely hadn’t looked beyond this moment. In fact I was trying very hard not to.
He nods and runs his hands over his face, sighing. ‘Okay. You’re not in the mood to talk. I get it. I told you I was a patient man, and I guess I’ll have to be.’
I suddenly feel a flash of irritation. It comes from nowhere, and I’m not sure it’s totally fair– but neither is this.
I never promised Aidan love. I never lied about myself.
He knew exactly who I was when he took me to bed.
Everything was absolutely fine until he started lobbing the love bomb in my direction.
The irritation frees me up a little, and ironically the first words I’m able to speak are ones I regret saying.
‘I’m not one of your Wolfdogs, Aidan. You don’t need to be patient with me, or feed me treats until I trust you. I’m not a project to be managed.’
‘No, you’re not like one of my dogs, I agree,’ he answers, looking annoyed now.
It’s the first time I’ve seen that expression on his face, his eyes flashing and his lips compressed.
‘You’re more stubborn than they are. We’ve got something special here, Sarah.
Really special. I’m not asking for a lifetime commitment.
All I’m asking is that you give it a chance.
That you don’t give up on it before we even try. ’
I can hear the sharp edge in his voice, and I don’t quite believe how quickly this has turned sour on us.
Just minutes ago, I was lying here naked, looking forward to spending the morning with him.
Now, we seem to be on the verge of our very first argument…
and I’m still naked. That, at least, is something I can control.
I climb out of the bed, taking the top sheet with me, wrapping it around me and awkwardly looking around for my clothes.
‘They’re downstairs,’ he says, his tone dark and his nostrils flaring. ‘And why are you hiding away from me? I saw your body in glorious detail last night, Sarah. I kissed every inch of it.’
I know he is hurt– that he expected more of me, that he expected better– but I am now completely overwhelmed, and anything that comes out of my mouth is only likely to make matters worse. His phone rings again, and he knocks it off the table and turns back to me.
‘Are you leaving now?’ he asks, obviously making an effort not to raise his voice.
I wish he would. I deserve it. Last night was a blip, a freak occurrence.
This morning I’m back to being the real me.
The freak of nature, the emotional cripple, the scared, stunted little creature who can’t even trust a man, never mind let them love her or love them in return. I’m a failure, as ever.
‘I am,’ I reply, holding on to the wall for balance. ‘And I’m sorry. I’m a mess. I think you got it wrong, Aidan. I’m not just damaged. I’m completely broken.’
I run down the stairs, praying he doesn’t follow me.