Chapter 31
31
‘How are you feeling now?’ Will’s voice asks from behind me.
‘Mmm,’ I reply softly.
Nearly an hour has passed since we got back to the flat. Mike’s initial reluctance to hand over his secret hot chocolate recipe was swiftly overcome when Will explained the situation and, according to Will, he wouldn’t hang up the phone until he was certain it was right. As I knew it would, the combination of hot chocolate and being under my warm duvet kick-started the defrosting process. Will was initially very wary about getting into bed with me, particularly when I asked if he’d mind if we both stripped down to the bare essentials so I could maximise the amount of heat I got from him, but he saw the reasoning in it and shuffled in beside me. Normally, I’d have been ridiculously aroused watching him strip down to his T-shirt and underwear, but all I could think about was how warm he’d be.
Now that I’m nearly back to normal, I’m starting to be conscious of him spooned behind me in an entirely different way. His arm is wrapped around me and his hand is resting lightly on my stomach. I’m wearing a vest, but I’m still very aware of it, and my insides are starting to fizz at the sensation of it. My imagination is starting to conjure up scenarios where he either moves it up to my chest, or down to my knickers; frankly, I’m not sure I care particularly which way it goes, as long as it goes one way or the other. His question has at least interrupted my reverie before it gets out of control.
‘What does that mean? Is that a good “Mmm” or a still frozen “Mmm”?’
‘It’s an “I’m very happy where I am right now” sort of “Mmm”,’ I tell him.
‘OK.’ He splays his fingers and closes them again. I’m sure he’s just getting comfortable, but the movement sends sparks through me. I can’t remember the last time I felt this turned on. I wonder if he’d notice me subtly lifting my vest so his hand was against my skin rather than the fabric. Dear God, the thought of it does things to me that something so simple shouldn’t be remotely capable of achieving. My heart is thudding so hard that I’m surprised he can’t feel it or hear it. Maybe he can, and he thinks it’s just part of the warming-up process. I wonder what he’d do if I gently placed my hand on top of his and encouraged him to move it…
‘Will?’ I ask, rolling over to face him so he has to take his hand away and I can hopefully break out of this rapidly escalating state of arousal.
‘Yes?’ His eyes are half closed, giving him a languid air which is only making things worse, as is the sight of his head on my pillow. It’s no good. As if drawn by an invisible magnet, I lean forward and bring my lips to rest gently on his. My relief that he doesn’t pull away is swiftly replaced by something much stronger, and my hand comes up to the side of his face. I so want to deepen the kiss, but he’s not giving anything away and I’m suddenly seized with doubt and pull away.
‘What was that for?’ he asks, sounding genuinely confused.
‘I don’t know. I just wanted to,’ I say, trying to sound like it’s completely normal. ‘I hope you didn’t mind.’
‘Mind?’ He smiles. ‘No. I didn’t mind. I just didn’t know if it was a thank-you kiss or…’ He tails off.
‘Or?’
‘Or something else.’
‘Can’t it be both?’ The atmosphere is suddenly awkward again. Why is this so difficult? Come on, Tilly, just tell the man how you feel. If you can’t do it when he’s in your bed, there’s no hope for you.
‘I’m…’ he begins before I have a chance to speak, before stopping again.
‘Yes?’
‘I explained to you, didn’t I…’ he tries, but that’s obviously not going anywhere either.
‘Just spit it out, Will,’ I urge.
‘What if I’m not what you want?’ he blurts eventually.
‘What if you’re everything I want?’ I counter.
‘I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, but…’
‘But what?’ This isn’t going the way I wanted it to at all, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ve spooked him. I can’t let things carry on the way they are though, so I decide to up the ante. ‘If you’re not into me, have the guts to tell me straight.’
‘God, no! That’s not it at all. I’m just… scared of misreading the signals or getting it wrong, I guess.’
This is wounded Will talking again, I can tell. Cass has a lot to answer for.
‘There’s nothing to be scared of,’ I murmur as I lean forward and plant kisses on his nose and forehead before dropping my mouth to his lips again. ‘I’ve got you.’
As I kiss him, his mouth begins to widen into a full-on smile. I can feel his hesitancy melting away as he starts to kiss me more confidently. I wriggle in closer to him as he brings his arm across me and places his hand in the small of my back. As our kisses deepen, I almost jolt with pleasure as he brings it down onto my bum. It’s neither of the places I was imagining earlier, but that doesn’t diminish the pleasure, especially when he strokes the back of my thigh almost lazily. I’m pressed hard against him now and, from what I can tell, he’s definitely got the right idea about where this is going.
* * *
‘Finally!’ Tash practically shouts down the phone when I tell her that evening. It was supposed to be a routine call and I had no intention of saying anything about Will, but she accused me of sounding weird and dragged the story out of me. ‘Although you could have found a less extreme way of luring him into your bed.’
‘I didn’t plan it!’
‘Evidently. Anyway, despite nearly contracting hypothermia and having to visit your own department as a consumer – how embarrassing – you finally sealed the deal. I might have to open champagne. Hang on a minute. Greg, have we still got that bottle of Veuve Clicquot in the fridge?’
‘Tash. Opening champagne to celebrate your sister having sex is seriously fucked up. Do not do it.’
‘Not just any sister, and definitely not just any sex. Was it good?’
I sigh. ‘Yes, very.’
‘Of course it was. Someone as gorgeous as Will is bound to be bloody incredible in the sack. I mean, you could probably come from just looking at him for ten minutes.’
‘Tash!’
‘Oh, stop being such a prude, Tilly. Don’t tell me there hasn’t been a significant amount of self-love and fantasising going on recently, because you’d either be lying or there’s something seriously wrong with you.’
‘I’m not a prude. I’m just not discussing the ins and outs of my sex life with my sister.’
‘Ins and outs,’ she chortles. ‘Very good.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. You’re obsessed.’
‘I think obsessed is overstating it. The point is that we’ve all been waiting for you and Will to make it official. Now you have, we’re pleased for you. Wait until Mum hears.’
‘You are not, repeat not, calling Mum to tell her that I had sex with Will.’
‘I so am.’
‘Haven’t you learned anything from the last time you interfered in my relationships?’
I’ve hit a nerve. There’s a pause before she comes back, but my brief hope that she might see sense and back off is quickly shot down. ‘That’s a fair point,’ she admits. ‘But I’m not actually interfering this time, am I? I’m simply sharing information. Plus, isn’t it easier all round if Mum hears it from me? She’ll ring you up, full of excitement, but you don’t actually have to do the telling because I’ll have done it for you.’
‘And embellished it from here to next week. If she so much as mentions the O word, I’m coming for you.’
‘OK. You tell her.’
‘What?’
‘Someone’s got to tell her because she’s living on tenterhooks. If you don’t want me to do it, you have to.’
Fuck. She’s outmanoeuvred me beautifully and she knows it. I can’t even begin to think how I’d broach the subject. I play out various options in my head, the easiest one being simply to mention in passing that Will and I are official, but she’ll want to know the details and will probably be even more demanding and inappropriate than Tash.
‘Fine,’ I sigh. ‘You can tell her, but you’re not to go into details or make anything up.’
‘Spoilsport. And the champagne?’
‘Still weird.’
‘You and the parentals drank champagne when I pushed eight and a half pounds of satanic flesh out of my hoo-ha. I don’t think it’s any weirder to open a bottle because Will stuck something altogether more pleasant into yours, is it?’
‘Enough, Tash. You’re making me feel queasy.’
‘Ooh. Maybe you’re pregnant.’
‘I’m on the pill and it doesn’t hit that fast, as you should know.’
‘I bet he’s got mega sperm. Muscular sperm that just kick silly pills out of the way like bullies in a playground. The quiet ones are always the ones you have to watch.’
‘Weird again. Have you got anything useful to say before I hang up?’
‘No. Congratulations, obviously. I mean, not just on the sex, although I’m pleased that was satisfactory. You’ve landed a good one this time. Try not to fuck it up, won’t you?’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence!’
‘It’s what sisters are for. Right, I’m off to call Mum. Love you.’
‘Love you too.’
I’m still trying to unravel the good bits of my call with Tash from the weird and frankly obscene when my phone rings again. Unsurprisingly, it’s Mum.
‘Darling!’ she gushes. ‘Natasha told me the news, and we’re all absolutely delighted for you.’
‘I’m sorry? When you say “all”…’
‘Well, your father and Gloria were here for a glass of wine, so naturally we put her on speakerphone. It sounds like you had quite an athletic afternoon.’
So much for Tash not sharing any details with Mum. I’m mortified, but also not completely surprised. That won’t stop me killing her though.
Mum is evidently oblivious to my murderous thoughts, as she continues in the kind of tone she used to use if one of us won a prize at school.
‘I’m so pleased that Will is a good lover. It’s such an important trait, yet I’m informed that precious few men have it. I’ve been lucky, of course. Your father was always considerate in bed, and Andy is just the same.’
‘Mum, I really don’t want to know this stuff,’ I tell her, while simultaneously trying to work out what is the slowest and most painful death I could inflict on my sister.
‘Tsk. I thought nurses were supposed to have cast-iron constitutions. Anyway, he’s coming for Christmas, isn’t he?’
‘I haven’t asked. He and his father have probably got plans.’
‘Nonsense. They must both come. I rely on you to make it happen. Oh, and find out about their dietary requirements. We don’t want a repeat of Brenda and the prawn mousse.’
‘Nobody wants that,’ I tell her with a shudder. Poor Brenda is one of my mum’s best friends, but we only found out about her shellfish allergy after she’d had a large helping of a mousse that Mum had completely neglected to tell her was chock-full of prawns. Amazingly, they both think it’s hysterically funny now, but then they weren’t the ones expected to deal with her as she swelled up and started wheezing. Thank goodness she had an EpiPen in her bag, otherwise it could have been much more serious.
‘Exactly,’ Mum says matter-of-factly. ‘I’ll leave that with you then.’
Great. So far today I’ve had to engineer a way to reassure Will that Australian Audrey doesn’t have designs on his dad, learned far more than I ever wanted to about remote-controlled helicopters, nearly frozen to death, and had amazing sex that my family don’t seem to think even slightly inappropriate to discuss in considerable detail. And now, to top it all, I’m supposed to persuade Will and Jonathan to stick their heads in the lion’s den that is my entire family at Christmas. With a sigh, I pick up my phone again and start to type out a message to Will, before I remember that probably isn’t the best thing to do. I need to get better at this, I scold myself as I call him instead.
‘Hiya, are you OK?’ His voice has an edge of concern to it that I wasn’t expecting.
‘Yes, why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Lots of reasons. Nearly catching hypothermia, second thoughts about me…’
‘I’m not having second thoughts. Quite the opposite, actually.’ As I say this, a realisation hits me hard in the gut. ‘I’m missing you, actually,’ I tell him.
‘I’m missing you too.’
‘Do you think your dad would mind if you came back here for the night? You could always tell him I’m scared of the dark or something.’
He laughs. ‘Dad’s on such a high after today that I don’t think he’d notice if I was here or not. Turns out one of the other guys at flying club took a load of footage of Audrey and uploaded it to YouTube. He and Bernard are practically going through it frame by frame.’
‘And Australian Audrey?’
‘Is flying out tomorrow, so she’s gone back to the hotel where she’s staying. I liked her, actually. I’m sure we’ll see her next time she’s over.’
‘Have you said anything to your dad about you and me?’
‘I haven’t really had a chance. Why?’
‘You probably ought to know that I suspect my family are choosing wedding outfits as we speak.’
His laugh is a bark of pure joy, and it stirs something in me. ‘They might be a little ahead of the game, but maybe one day…’
‘Don’t encourage them,’ I warn. ‘You’ll only start a feeding frenzy. Thinking of which, what are your plans for Christmas?’
‘I don’t think we’ve got any. Why?’
‘I think I’d better explain that when you get here.’
‘I’m on my way.’
When I hang up the phone, I surprise myself by doing something I don’t think I’ve done since I was a teenager. It’s a little dance of pure joy.