Chapter 9
Luca sat up in bed munching an apple as the afternoon sun slanted in through the blinds, warming him and creating strips of honey-coloured light on the polished wooden floor of Aisling’s bedroom.
‘Well, that was a long time coming,’ she said, with a triumphant smile.
He looked at her stretched out naked beside him on the rumpled sheet, her long blonde hair tousled. Damp tendrils clung to her forehead and the sides of her face. ‘You were a long time coming,’ he said.
She made a sleepy, satisfied noise and nestled deeper into the pillow.
‘Give me a bite.’ She nodded at the apple.
Luca nipped her shoulder lightly. ‘There you go.’
Aisling laughed and grabbed the apple from him.
‘Hey!’
‘Bite me!’ she said, and bit into it with a juicy crunch before handing it back to him.
Luca finished it and lobbed the core into the basket in the far corner of the room. Then he checked his watch. It was almost three. ‘I’m going to head off,’ he said, swinging out of the bed.
‘Don’t go.’ Aisling groaned pettishly, reaching for him, but he was already sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her. ‘Why don’t you stay?’ Her fingers stroked his spine.
Luca sighed. ‘I told you. I’m meeting my father for dinner later, and I want to get some work done before that.’
‘You mean painting?’ She didn’t try to hide the sneer in her voice.
‘Yes, painting.’
‘But that’s the beauty of being your own boss.
No one can stop you skiving off for an afternoon whenever you want.
I just told Nicola I wouldn’t be back for the rest of the day.
I could tell she was livid, but there’s nothing she can do about it.
’ Aisling owned a very chic and expensive bag shop in the Powerscourt Centre where, like her stock, she was more decorative than useful.
‘Well, unlike you, no one else can do my work for me.’
‘So take a day off,’ she drawled, in a bored voice. ‘Who cares?’
‘I care,’ he said, standing up and turning to her.
‘You could paint me.’ She spread her arms wide and looked up at him appealingly.
He studied her, his eyes slowly raking the length of her body.
She was a beautiful girl, there was no denying that – she had a fit, toned body, soft, well-tended skin, great tits, regular features.
But there was something vacuous and bland about her prettiness that held no aesthetic interest for him.
There was no character in her face, no little quirk or irregularity to make it interesting. It was flawless, doll-like… boring.
‘Is this new?’ he asked, bending and reaching out with one finger to touch the tattoo at her hip – a cluster of small, coloured stars. He hadn’t seen it before, but it was a long time since they’d last slept together.
‘I got it a couple of weeks ago. What do you think?’
‘It’s cool,’ he said, sitting down beside her, his finger tracing lazily over the tattoo.
‘You’re the first person to see it.’
‘Really? Not even Philip?’
‘No.’ Aisling raised herself up on her elbow. ‘Philip and I are on a break.’
‘Yeah?’
‘You didn’t know?’ She sounded surprised.
‘Why would I?’
‘Well, I’d have thought it was obvious. I mean, do you honestly think I’d be here with you if I was still with Philip?’ she asked indignantly.
‘Honestly? I think you would, yeah,’ he said, with a smirk.
‘Fuck you!’ she said softly, but she wasn’t even trying to hold back her smile. Aisling liked her reputation as a ballsy man-eater. ‘Well, I wouldn’t,’ she said archly. ‘I may play around, but when I’m with someone, I don’t cheat.’
‘Very admirable. You’re almost up there with the Virgin Mary. Lucky for me, then, that I caught you when you were between gigs with Philip.’
‘What makes you think I’m getting back with him?’
‘Because it’s what you and Philip do. You’ll probably still be breaking up and getting back together when you’re both ninety.’
‘Not this time. I’m going to tell him it’s over for good. He’s really pissing me off. He can be such a knob.’
‘You’ll get no argument from me there.’
‘So you think I should?’ She looked up at him coquettishly from beneath her lashes. ‘Break up with him?’
‘If you want to.’
‘What kind of answer is that?’ she said, her smile swiftly replaced by a scowl.
‘What do you want me to say? If you want to break up with him, you should break up with him.’
‘I want to know what you think. I mean, how would you feel about it?’
Luca shrugged. ‘Dump Philip, or marry him and have his babies – what difference does it make to me?’
‘How can you say that? I just told you I wouldn’t be here with you now if I was with Philip.’
‘Look, I’m not saying it hasn’t been fun, but that’d hardly be the end of the world, would it?’
‘Charming!’ she said petulantly.
‘Anyway,’ he grinned, ‘I could catch you next time around.’
‘I told you, there isn’t going to be a next time. If we split up this time, it’s over for good. Then you and I could have lots more afternoons like this,’ she said seductively, playing with the hair on his chest.
‘Well, don’t break up with him on my account—’
‘Jesus!’ she huffed, pulling away abruptly. ‘Why are you being like this?’
‘Like what?’
‘You act like you don’t even care.’
‘I’m not acting. I don’t care. And neither do you, remember?’
‘Maybe I’ve changed my mind.’
‘Well, I haven’t changed mine.’ He stood. ‘I’m going for a shower.’
‘You’re such a shit, Luca,’ she hissed to his back.
Yeah, whatever, Luca thought wearily, as he stalked into the vast open-plan living room.
Aisling lived in a spacious loft-style apartment at Grand Canal Dock.
On his way to the bathroom he stopped by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water to take in the view, leaning his forehead against the glass.
He was so fed up with girls telling him he was a shit because he didn’t want what they wanted – especially when he’d made it perfectly clear what he didn’t want from the start.
He wasn’t the one changing his mind, and it wasn’t his fault that Aisling had been lying, pretending she was cool with casual sex because she wanted him to stick around long enough for her to change him.
‘For fuck’s sake, Luca, get away from the window,’ Aisling said behind him. ‘People will see you.’
‘So? I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.’
Her eyes flew to his dick. ‘No.’ She smiled saucily as she walked towards him, completely naked. She stood beside him at the window, looking down at the people passing on the walkway below.
‘Aren’t you worried people will see you?’ Luca asked.
‘You’re not the only one who has nothing to be ashamed of.’ She touched his hand, stepping closer so her breasts were brushing against his chest. ‘Why don’t we really give them something to look at?’
His body was already starting to respond to her. ‘I told you, I have to go,’ he said, pulling away from her and starting to gather up his clothes, which were scattered around the living room. He could shower at home. Now he just wanted to get out of there.
Aisling’s smile disappeared and she folded her arms, her face like thunder as she watched him hastily getting dressed.
Thank Christ they hadn’t gone to his place, he thought, as he zipped up his jeans and pulled on his T-shirt – he’d never have got rid of her.
But Aisling had refused to go there on the grounds that it was ‘minging’.
Sometimes living in a shithole had its advantages.
‘I’ll see you around, yeah?’ he said, as he pulled on his jacket. He leaned in to kiss her, but she reared away from him.
‘Just piss off!’
Outside the apartment, Luca didn’t bother waiting for the lift, running down the stairs as if he was being chased.
Where the fuck had that come from? Aisling was the last person he would have expected to turn clingy and demanding.
Quite apart from the fact that she was a notorious player, she had this ongoing thing with Philip, and they always ended up back together, no matter who else she amused herself with in the meantime.
In fact, their friends often said she was using Luca to make Philip jealous – which was fine by him. He was happy to help.
And now she’d suddenly decided to glom onto him.
He’d obviously made a mistake, taking her at her word that she wasn’t interested in anything serious.
But what the fuck was she thinking? They didn’t even like each other – not really.
He was always clear about what he wanted – and didn’t want – right from the start.
So why did it inevitably end up with him being told what a shit he was, some girl shouting and throwing stuff at him, or acting hurt and accusing him of having misled her?
They always thought they’d be the one to transform him into their idea of the perfect boyfriend if they could just fuck him enough times. Well, screw that!
The gallery that represented him was giving him his first solo show in September, and even though it was now only the beginning of May, he didn’t feel he had a lot of time.
So he spent the rest of the day working furiously on a couple of pieces, swapping between them so that he could get on with one while he left the other to dry.
The frustrating thing about working in oils was how long it took the paint to dry between layers, so he usually had two or more canvases on the go simultaneously.
He quickly became engrossed, completely absorbed in what he was creating, and regretted wasting so much time with Aisling.
Still, it wouldn’t be happening again anytime soon – he’d burnt his bridges there.
That had been happening a lot lately. If he kept it up, he’d run out of girls to sleep with in Dublin, he thought wryly.
He’d have to become celibate or move somewhere else.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to give that a rest for a while anyway.
If nothing else, he’d have more time to focus on his painting.