9 | Eat your eggs
9 | eat your eggs
CARA
The faint sound of familiar footsteps roused me from sleep the next morning. As I opened my eyes, still ensconced in the remnants of a dream, it took me a moment to remember I wasn’t in my own room, but William’s. His distinctive scent was everywhere, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket that filled me with delight.
He moved around the room, the subtle rustling of fabric barely audible, and gently eased himself onto the bed beside me, his warm touch on my cheek stirring me further awake.
‘Sweetheart,’ he whispered, ‘it’s time to wake.’
I furrowed my brows, flipping on the wall-mounted night lamp beside the bed. The damn thing was blinding, but I managed to keep my tired eyes open. Squinting at William, I discovered him gleaming with sweat, his workout gear clinging to his muscular form.
Puzzled, I mustered a groggy, ‘What happened?’ The soft tendrils of sleep still clouded my thoughts.
‘Went to the gym,’ he said, wiping his damp forehead with his arm.
‘Oh, right.’ It clicked. ‘With Jason?’
‘Yeah.’
Memories of their preferred gym surfaced in my mind, a place of luxury. I had accompanied Jason there a few times as his guest, and each visit left me feeling out of place amidst the grandeur. It was a gym designed for the affluent, catering to the rich and famous, and I always felt my presence was a jarring intrusion, a reminder of the world beyond the polished fa?ade. Frankly, the whole experience was like wandering into a different realm, one that certainly wasn’t mine.
William rose from the bed and circled it, making his way toward the en-suite. As he moved, I caught a glimpse of the alarm clock – half past six. A sigh slipped from my lips, my mind already gearing up for the challenges the day would no doubt bring at the office.
‘Up and at ‘em,’ William said, peeling off his black T-shirt. ‘I know it’s tough but—’
‘Just ten more minutes.’ I turned my back toward him. ‘I need to gather my strength.’ With my eyes closed, I burrowed deeper into the duvet, succumbing to its dangerously inviting cosiness. It was strange how drained I felt, given that we had called it a night at a sensible time – half past nine.
William’s chuckle resonated through the room. ‘That’s wishful thinking. You’ll doze off again.’
‘No. Ten minutes, and I’ll be up.’
‘Sceptical,’ he replied, his disbelief palpable.
Choosing to ignore his comment, I maintained my silence, hoping he would take the hint.
‘Cara, come on. How about a shower? That should wash off the sleepiness.’
‘I said no.’
In an unexpected move, he gripped the duvet and yanked it off me.
‘William!’ I spun around, snatched up his pillow and hurled it at him.
With impressive reflexes, he threw up an arm to deflect the pillow, a peal of infectious laughter bubbling up from him. The pillow landed on the floor and, without missing a beat, he delivered a swift kick, sending it soaring right back at me, hitting my face. His uncanny precision revealed his past as a skilled football striker. Despite my surprise, laughter shook me. Only William would think to boot a pillow in the face of the woman he was pursuing. He might give me flowers and take me on amazing dates, but he never missed a chance for such playful banter, and I found myself appreciating him all the more for it. It was this ability to balance romance with levity that made our relationship so wonderful.
‘Shower,’ he purred, reaching out a hand for me.
I crossed my arms. ‘No. You’re just going to try and seduce me in there.’
‘Definitely.’ Sauntering over to the threshold of the en-suite, he came to a stop. Turning to face me, his eyes brimmed with invitation as he extended his hand once more, beckoning me to join him.
Honestly, this man.
‘I’m too sore after last night, Will. I’ll have a shower when you’re done. In the meantime, I’ll get breakfast going.’
The corners of his mouth dipped down. ‘I was hoping for an extra steamy shower.’
I sniggered at his insatiable libido. ‘You’re hopeless. Can’t get enough, can you?’
‘No, you’re addictive,’ he said, his voice dripping with a dangerous sensuality. His hand gripped the top of the doorframe as he pinned me with a look. The sight of him right then was enough to give me pause. He was the epitome of masculinity, and his current pose underlined it fiercely. Women never stood like that. His posture alone radiated a potent dose of testosterone. It was hardly fair. He was practically glistening with sweat, and he looked outrageously enticing.
I slipped out of the bed and walked up to him.
‘That’s it,’ he murmured, a triumphant smile gracing his lips.
I stopped before him, resting my hand on his slick, bare chest. Then I gave him a good shove, pushing him into the bathroom, and quickly shut the door between us.
‘You little minx!’ he moaned, making me giggle.
‘Enjoy your shower,’ I said, pivoting on my heel to get started on breakfast.
As I moved past William’s partially open wardrobe, my gaze wandered in. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed that the uniform blues and greys were no longer interrupted by the splash of Francesca’s orange silk dress. Wondering if I had just overlooked it, I walked in and did a quick sweep of the room, but there was no sign of the dress anywhere. What had he done with it? Frowning, I decided to ask him about it when he emerged from the shower.
I made a beeline for his fridge, assessing the ingredients I had at my disposal: heaps of fruits and vegetables, which immediately reminded me of Jason. Like his brother, William seemed rather focused on staying healthy. It was hardly surprising – with that athletic physique, junk food was obviously not a regular on his menu. That made me wonder, though: did he have a secret stash of sweets or crisps somewhere?
Spotting eggs and chives, I decided to whip up omelettes for us. As they sizzled in separate pans, I went on a cupboard hunt. I half expected to find hidden goodies, but after scouring every last shelf, all I found was a single bar of dark chocolate, two packets of crisps, and some assorted nuts. He clearly wasn’t fibbing about not having much of a sweet tooth.
‘Mmm, smells good,’ he said, suddenly right behind me.
I swivelled to face him. ‘They won’t be a patch on your scrambled eggs.’
He chuckled, wandering round the island to grab a glass. ‘I bet they will.’
He was half-dressed, his light-grey waistcoat unbuttoned and his bronze tie hanging loose around his neck. The top two buttons of his white shirt were still undone, though he had managed to get his light-grey trousers on properly.
He was just so… Well, gorgeous.
‘Thanks for cooking,’ he said, filling his glass with water and downing it in one. ‘Again.’
‘Thanks for eating it,’ I replied, a smile of amusement dancing on my lips.
He gave me a sideways look, seeming a bit confused. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? You’re a wizard in the kitchen. Those fillets you cooked last night were top class. Honestly, it’s the best chicken I’ve ever had – tender, hot, juicy…’
My smile widened. I had made it extra spicy, just for him. ‘The trick is slow-cooking them till they’re sixty-eight degrees in the centre.’
His head tilted, a glint of admiration in his eyes. ‘Huh. Good to know.’
He opened a drawer, fetching two plates, then rifled through another for some cutlery. With an easy saunter, he rounded the island and took a seat. I slid the omelettes from the pans onto the plates, adding a sprinkle of chives on top. Then, clad in nothing but my knickers, I hopped onto the stool beside him. His gaze slid over me, lingering on my bare chest.
As I reached for my cutlery, he suddenly leaned closer, his voice low and laden with desire. ‘I’m on the verge of ditching my meal to have you for breakfast instead.’
I gulped. ‘Really?’
His knife clattered to the table as he traced his fingertips across my thigh. His touch sent a tingling current through me, stealing my breath away. But as his hand began to wander higher, sneaking closer and closer to my underwear, I swatted it away.
‘Stop it, you lustful, insatiable knob,’ I chided, though my smile betrayed my amusement. ‘Eat your eggs.’
‘But I find yours more enticing.’
His witty response took a second to register. Then I felt unbearable heat rushing to my cheeks. ‘I can’t believe you just said that.’
A chuckle spilled out of his mouth as he reached for his knife. ‘I was half-joking.’
Half-joking. I let out a laugh. ‘You’d be wise to stop talking now.’
He pressed a quick, sweet kiss to my burning cheek before tucking into his omelette. ‘Mmm. Delicious.’ He gave me a winsome grin.
Smiling, I scanned him from head to toe. As my eyes admired his outfit, my mind inevitably wandered back to Francesca’s dress.
‘So…’ I began, unsure of how to broach the subject. I didn’t want to come across as neurotic, but my curiosity about the dress was niggling at me. Had he met her? Without telling me? Was that the reason behind his off-beat behaviour yesterday?
His attention remained on his omelette as he prompted, ‘What?’
‘When you were showering earlier, I happened to notice that Francesca’s dress is no longer in your wardrobe.’
He tensed momentarily, but maintained a neutral expression, not even sparing me a glance. ‘Right. Yeah, I gave it back to her.’
‘Oh?’ I aimed for a nonchalant tone, not wishing to stir any anxiety. I wanted to create an environment where he felt safe to share anything. If I reacted adversely to his withholding this information, it wouldn’t encourage such openness.
Swallowing a mouthful, he murmured, ‘Yeah.’
‘When?’ I asked, maintaining a casual tone.
‘Sunday.’
‘Ah.’ I scrutinised him, increasingly convinced that this was the missing puzzle piece explaining his unpredictable mood swings yesterday. He had been a pendulum of emotions, oscillating between clingy and detached.
I patiently waited, hoping he would share more details, but he remained silent.
‘How did it go?’ I gently asked.
He cleared his throat and stood up, circling the island to grab his glass from the worktop. ‘It went fine.’
My eyebrows furrowed. He was behaving oddly – intentionally avoiding my gaze, and his composure seemed forced.
‘Did she ask for another chance?’ I wondered, remembering her brazen appeals from before.
He gave a nod. ‘I was as gentle as I could be,’ he said, finally locking eyes with me. I detected a hint of apprehension in his gaze, as if he expected judgement. But I trusted he had been as gentle as his nature allowed. Though, that had probably made it all the more agonising for Francesca. She must have seen a trace of his tender side, of the potential it contained, which I was blessed enough to experience every single day.
‘Where did you do it?’ The curiosity gnawed at me. Had she stood here? Perhaps in the hall where William and I had made love several times?
‘At the hotel she was staying in.’ He shrugged. ‘Meeting there gave me the option to make a quick exit when I wanted to.’
His forethought didn’t surprise me.
‘You’re well-versed in break-ups, aren’t you?’ I quickly filled my mouth with the remainder of my omelette to stifle any further comment.
Leaning across the island, William held my gaze with an intense sincerity. ‘You’ll never have to find out.’
A thrill surged through me, leaving me momentarily stunned. He had this way of stirring the deepest emotions with the simplest words.
‘Smooth.’ Struggling to cool my heated cheeks, I tried to play it off nonchalantly, but his words had pierced right through my defences, straight into my heart.
He chuckled, drawing back with a satisfied smile.
‘She doesn’t live in London, then?’ I asked. ‘Seeing as she was staying at a hotel?’
He shook his head. ‘No, she’s based in Southampton. She does a lot of her work in London, though, so she’s been planning on moving here. In the meantime, she stays with friends or at hotels. But she’s often abroad, so she’s not rushing it.’
‘Did she ever stay with you?’
His brows knitted together. ‘No.’
‘Did you invite her to?’
His frown deepened. ‘Where is this leading? No.’
I laughed lightly. ‘Goodness. There’s no need to get defensive. I’m just curious.’
‘If you’re trying to glean whether there was ever anything more between us, I can assure you there wasn’t – at least not on my side. It was purely physical, Cara, and I wanted to keep it that way. That’s why I never let her stay beyond a night.’ He turned away, reaching into the fridge for the orange juice.
‘As I said, I was only curious,’ I replied. I wasn’t concerned about him and Francesca – my worry was solely about her. Her repeated pleas for a second chance hinted at desperation, and the desperate could be unpredictable. ‘Regardless, I suppose she’s totally out of the picture now?’
He poured himself a glass. ‘Third time’s the charm, they say. Orange juice?’
‘No, thank you. I’ve already got water.’ I took a thoughtful sip from my glass. ‘I hope she doesn’t become a nuisance.’
‘That’s my hope, too.’ He sighed, sounding weary. ‘Can we switch gears? Just her name is a real mood killer.’
I blinked, surprised. I hadn’t realised how much she bothered him.
‘Of course,’ I said, shrugging.
‘Jason mentioned he’s throwing a bash at your place this Friday,’ he said, then chugged his drink.
‘Yeah, I’ve been meaning to discuss that with you.’
He swivelled to face me, splaying his arms for a beat. ‘I won’t be able to make it. Work’s really piled up, especially since I took on Jian’s case.’
‘Actually, I wasn’t too keen on going either,’ I said. ‘I was hoping I could spend the night here, with you.’
His face softened into a warm smile. ‘You’re always welcome.’
I smiled back.
‘Just a heads-up, though,’ he went on. ‘I really will have to work, so I can’t promise a romantic evening.’
‘That’s fine. I’ve got a load of work myself.’
‘Sounds like a plan, then.’
‘Yes. And I find that romantic, too, you know.’
‘What?’
‘Us together, hard at work.’
A humoured look crossed his face. ‘You’re truly one of a kind. ’