Chapter 13
Nora
Ifollow Theo back through the glorious living area (happily, there are several alternate sofas I can appropriate during my stay) to the kitchen.
The whole place smells amazing: a musky, oud-based scent that adds to the seductive vibe he’s got going on here.
I’d put money on said vibe being anything but effortless.
‘Why don’t you sit your cute little arse down there’—he points at a bar stool—‘and I’ll get some crumpets on, if crumpets are your thing.’
While the guy won’t win any feminism awards, he has me at crumpets.
‘I am definitely partial to crumpets.’
‘Sweet or savoury?’
‘Both… but right now, savoury.’
‘Coming up.’ He flashes me a grin and I sit back in my seat and watch the admittedly gratifying sight of Theo pottering around this sleek, sexy kitchen.
I ogle his bum and enjoy how the muscles in his back and shoulders flex when he moves.
He opens the oven and puts six crumpets under the grill, a number that makes me very happy indeed, because I can definitely sink half of those.
And while they’re grilling, he opens the fridge.
‘Wine? I missed out earlier.’
Why not? It’s not even ten o’clock, and I’ve survived a run-in with my ex, a fake date, a fake (but unfeasibly enjoyable) kiss and a flood. That I’m now bunking up with my fake boyfriend makes me think I’ve earned a glass of wine.
‘Sure. Why not?’
He pours us each a glass of Chablis and holds his up. ‘Cheers. To my fake girlfriend, who came up trumps tonight.’
‘Cheers.’ The wine is perfect. Cold and mineral. ‘And you’re the one who’s come up trumps, roomie.’
He grins. ‘You’re definitely the first girl who’s stayed in my spare room, that’s for sure. Though we can fix that right now.’
‘Not a chance, Romeo.’ I fiddle awkwardly with the stem of my glass. ‘You got to first base. Consider yourself lucky.’
Theo gets out a protective mat and puts it on the island in front of me.
When the undersides of the crumpets are grilled, he takes the pan out of the oven and flips them over.
I watch as he scrapes a curl from a block of butter and runs the knife over the untoasted top of the crumpets, the butter melting at the contact and dribbling down through the holes.
It’s almost pornographic, the idle way his long fingers grip the knife and the unhurried figures of eight the butter makes on the crumpets’ surface. Tanned, masculine hands.
Melted butter.
Hot crumpets.
Who knew this was the stuff my porno dreams were made of?
‘What are you doing?’
‘Extensive experience has taught me that if I put the cheese straight on top, the crumpets can be a bit dry.’ He finishes off the last crumpet and picks up a grater and a block of parmesan.
The shavings curl and fall into piles, and he arranges them on top of the crumpets.
‘The butter means you get the crispy melted topping and a nice amount of goo in the middle when you bite in.’
Oh my God. That sounds fucking amazing. My mouth literally fills with drool as I imagine sinking my teeth into a cheesy, buttery wedge of crumpet.
‘Okay. So butter, then parmesan, then back under the grill?’
‘Parmesan and a hint of cheddar. Rounds it out.’
I groan as he picks up a block of cheddar and runs through the same routine before carefully returning the grill pan to the oven.
‘They might take a few years off my life, but it’ll be worth it. I had no idea I was in the company of such a crumpet expert.’
Little does Theo know that he’s far more likely to seduce me by feeding me double-cheese-and-butter crumpets than with innuendo or so-called charm.
‘I’m a master.’ He leans forward on the counter and winks at me. ‘I’ve helped a lot of women work up an appetite over the years, and crumpets are the perfect post-coital snack. I have a freezer full of them.’
Ugh. I’m such an idiot. I was sitting here, allowing myself to feel the slightest bit content and flattered, I suppose.
Maybe not flattered, but let’s just say I was managing to relax and enjoy the moment.
And while I don’t care who Theo shags or has shagged in the past, I really don’t need that information.
Or that visual. Theo sauntering back into his bedroom with a plate of cheesy crumpets to sate the appetite of some stunning, sexily decoiffed woman he’s just seduced…
So he has a freezer full of crumpets, and probably a bedside table full of condoms.
Honestly.
The guy is shameless.
My failure to reply probably hits home, because he leans further over and tips my chin up with his fingertips.
‘Hey. That was an unbelievably wanky thing to say. Sorry, Belle. I don’t always think before I speak, but that was uncalled for. You’re my guest, and I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘It’s not. I was being a dick. It’s pretty fucking immature to boast about my conquests to someone I’m not even trying to seduce.’
Ouch. I know he’s not trying to seduce me, but given he’s the only person I’ve been with since Jonathan in any form, it’s still hard not to feel slightly vulnerable in the aftermath of having had our tongues in each other’s mouths.
‘I mean.’ He releases my chin and buries his face in his hands.
‘Oh my God. What the fuck is wrong with me tonight? I didn’t mean it like that, Belle.
You’re gorgeous. And if it helps, I thought our kiss was far fucking hotter than it should have been.
That’s the truth. If I thought I had a shot at seducing you, I’d go for it.
What I should have said is that you’ve made it clear you’re only interested in one guy.
And that’s not me. So you’re not an option for my incredible seduction skills. That’s what I meant to say.’
He sighs heavily, and runs his fingers through his hair, and I watch him with genuine fascination.
How would it feel to be like Theo? To come out with admissions—that I would class as requiring serious courage—like I thought our kiss was far fucking hotter than it should have been—because you aren’t held back by sexual hangups, nor do you have any agenda. You don’t give a shit, basically.
Imagine if it was me who said that to Theo.
If I left off my bra when I was getting changed, draped myself across his island and said, hey Theo.
I thought our kiss was far fucking hotter than it should have been.
If I just threw something like that out there while being totally relaxed about the consequences.
Maybe he takes it as a come-on. Maybe he laughs in my face. Either way, no sweat.
But I wouldn’t. Because, unlike him, I’m not emotionally slutty. And consequences are my everything.
I’m sure if I offered myself to Theo, he’d go for it quite happily, but equally, if I didn’t, he wouldn’t waste a second contemplating what could have been.
He doesn’t give a flying fuck either way.
It must be incredible to move through life with that kind of cavalier confidence. The stakes seem low for him. They’re high for me, which is why I’ve always over-thought everything to do with guys and sex.
It’s not like I’m envious of his lifestyle.
If anything, I can admit to myself deep down that I judge him a little for it.
But I’m envious that his sexual exploits seem to wash over him like water off a duck’s back.
Just for once, I’d love to be like him. To have laughingly propositioned Jonathan earlier this evening in his girlfriend’s absence, genuinely not caring about whether he took or left my offer because I was so empowered by my belief in my sexual potency.
Because that’s the thing. Not caring is very empowering. Caring too much, on the other hand, makes your entire life a fucking prison.
But back to Theo. He’s thrown me a bone, and the semantics of what he said shouldn’t matter, but they do. So I throw him a bone back.
‘You’re a lot better at kissing than you are at talking.’
He slaps the counter in defeat. ‘Tell me about it.’
‘I reckon those crumpets are ready.’ The cheese is audibly sizzling, and the smell of it is driving me crazy.
‘Shit. Yes.’ He spins around and tackles the grill pan with an oven glove.
‘Did you feed Trixie and Dixie cheesy crumpets?’ I can’t help ask, and maybe if we can laugh about the steady stream of women who clearly pass through this beautiful flat, it’ll feel less horrifying.
‘Like hell I did.’ He uses a silicon burger flipper to move the crumpets from the grill pan to a large plate. They are perfect, bubbling discs of golden magic. ‘Dig in. I put them both in a cab as soon as I came to my senses.’
‘Came being the operative word.’
He sniggers. Again, the not-giving-a-shit thing is fascinating. ‘Something like that.’
‘Classy.’ I pick up a crumpet, but it’s too hot to eat yet. Ouch. I drop it back on the plate.
‘Here.’ He hands me a napkin.
‘Thanks.’ Given we’re actually talking about this, I figure it won’t kill me to adopt a little of his cavalier attitude. I can ask a question that I deem awkward, and the sky will not fall. ‘Is it scary having a threesome?’
‘Scary? Nope. It’s kind of ridiculous. But it was pretty fucking fun.’
I grimace.
‘Not a fan of the idea?’
I press my thighs together under the counter. ‘Definitely not. No judgement,’ I add.
He sniggers. ‘Sure. You’re not judging me at all. I have a question for you, Little Miss Sensible.’
The way he says it sounds—I don’t know—loaded. I eye him suspiciously and take another slug of my wine. ‘What?’
‘When I kissed you at uni—what was it like?’
There’s a pause where I feel very foolish indeed.
‘You really don’t remember?’
‘No. Sorry—I was hammered.’
‘You don’t look remotely sorry.’
‘I’m not sorry because it’s rude not to remember.
I’m sorry because I’d like to be able to imagine it.
I definitely held back tonight. A lot. But when you mentioned it—I thought maybe that other kiss was pretty wild.
’ He raises his eyebrows at me as he braves a crumpet and sinks his teeth in.
‘Fuck me, that’s good,’ he says, his mouth full.
A couple of drops of butter dribble over his plump lower lip towards his beard-thing, and I stare as he catches them with his tongue.
Fuck’s sake. The butter-porno thing is a big deal for me tonight, it seems.
‘I’m not sure you’d consider it wild. After all, there were only two of us involved.’ I go for a second attempt at a crumpet, peeling off a bit of the cheese this time and testing it in my mouth. It’s perfect.
‘You’re hilarious. There are plenty of ways to have fun with only two people, Nora Wilder. Spill it. What did we do?’
His habit of saying parts of my name like they’re dirty words is really irritating. ‘We kissed, Theo. We snogged.’
‘Outside, right?’
‘Yeah. You pushed me up against the wall of Plodge and you kind of… dived on me.’
I attempt nonchalance as I take a nibble of my still-too-hot crumpet.
‘I pushed you against a wall and dived on you. Is that right?’
His eyes are dancing with mischief and interest as he watches me eat.
‘Yep.’ The butter in this thing is oozing everywhere. I suck my fingertip before hurriedly removing it and wiping it on my napkin, conscious of Theo’s eyes on me.
‘That sounds like fun to me. And…’ he prompts.
I raise my chin defiantly. ‘And from what I remember, it was pretty heated. We kind of went for it. And you scratched all down my back, under my top. Hard. You left marks.’
‘Seriously?’ His face spreads into a huge grin. ‘Should I say sorry?’
‘No.’ I shrug. ‘It was hot.’
‘Was it now? What else?’
‘Not much else. You had a… you know.’ I gesture at his groin area, which is thankfully hidden by the counter.
‘I bet I was hard as rock, you little minx, if I had you up against a wall. What happened then?’
I pretend to think while willing my blushing habit not to give me away.
‘You boasted about your room allocation, told me you could have me, um, naked in minutes, I turned you down, we went our separate ways, and next time I saw you, you had your face surgically attached to that of a blonde on the dance floor.’
He wrinkles up his nose. ‘Wow. So I was a cocky little shit, basically.’
‘That wasn’t a surprise to me.’ I take a bite of my crumpet and chew. The cheese and butter and stodge is the most miraculous combination. This really is orgasmically good.
‘Why didn’t you let me whisk you off for a night to remember?’
There’s no way I’m telling this guy I was a virgin when I met him. Or that I’ve only slept with one person in my life.
‘No offence, but I was pretty sure you were a total tart. And I didn’t make a habit of drunkenly falling into bed with guys I’d just met. Still don’t.’
He brandishes the bottle. ‘So if I force feed you the rest of this bottle, it won’t make a difference? Pity.’
I cross my arms and glare at him.
‘I’m kidding; I’m kidding. Well, I have absolutely no recollection of who the blonde was that night.’
I smirk. ‘I’m sure you gave her a night to remember, though, right?’
He shakes his head at me. ‘Not sure what I’ve got myself into with you, Nora Wilder.’