Chapter Thirty-Four
We woke early and made love, sleepy and gentle with each other in the pale winter light.
The taste of his skin was familiar to me now; already, there was an intimacy that lay between us, as though this wasn’t all new, as though we had just been waiting to discover it.
Afterwards we lay still, moulded together on the bed, unwilling to face the day.
‘What time is it?’ I said, basking in his warmth, my head on his chest.
He reached for his phone. ‘Just after six,’ he said, putting it down and wrapping that arm back around me.
‘Early riser.’
He gave a throaty laugh. ‘Did you sleep well?’
We had gone to sleep very late. ‘Very, very, very well.’
‘Me too.’ He sighed. ‘Like I said, I get… nightmares sometimes. But not last night.’ He kissed my hair. ‘That would have been a rude awakening for you. Me yelling the place down.’
I touched the small scar above his lip, then kissed it; thought of how he had held me at my most vulnerable; how he’d seen the most chaotic part of my life and not turned away. ‘It wouldn’t have been a problem.’
He looked into my eyes: questioning, uncertain, faintly defensive. It felt unbearable and beautiful all at the same time. I kissed him to stop him from having to say more and to show him his vulnerability didn’t faze me.
‘This is a stand-out morning,’ he said, when we parted.
I sighed, settling into him. ‘Meetings begin at ten. I guess we should check emails before, in case any new crises are developing.’
‘I always hope there’s an email from you,’ he said, then groaned. ‘Not cool, MacLeod. Should definitely have kept that to myself.’
I laughed. ‘Definitely.’
‘As I’m confessing things,’ he said, running his fingers over my collarbone. ‘Do you remember Carl quizzing you about whether you had a boyfriend, just before Venice?’
‘When I brought Drew to the Open Day?’ I said, glancing up at his face.
He nodded, looking rueful. ‘That was me, I’m afraid. I couldn’t find a way to ask you, so I got him to.’
‘As in, my friend wants to know if your friend fancies that guy,’ I said, laughing.
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, it’s juvenile.’
I kissed him on the cheek. ‘It’s sweet.’
‘Fuck off.’ We both started laughing and he pulled me to him again.
I traced my fingers over his chest, then onto his upper arm, over the tattoo on his bicep, a simple black line with two arrow heads. ‘What’s this?’
His jaw tightened. ‘It’s a reminder. It’s from a Buddhist saying.
Basically: if you’re hurt by something, then you’ve been shot by an arrow.
But if you choose to dwell on the pain in a way that’s unhealthy, then you shoot yourself a second time, with suffering.
I’m reminding myself not to dwell on suffering.
I had it done after I lost one of my friends in Afghanistan. ’
I nodded, tightened my arms around him and felt his answering squeeze.
I had a hundred questions I was dying to ask.
It was as though I could never know too much about him now.
I also felt, ugh, needy. It reminded me of Esme’s vulnerability over Ajax.
The kind of vulnerability I had been fleeing from for a long time. It was terrifying.
‘Now would be a great time to admit you’ve been secretly in love with me since the moment you saw me, by the way,’ said Olly. ‘I’ve got to make some ground up here.’
‘I admit nothing,’ I said tartly, still stroking him. ‘You were simply an esteemed colleague when we first met.’
Except the first time I saw you I thought you were the hottest man I’d ever seen or heard, I thought, but didn’t say, because I already felt raw, open.
I thought of the things to be dealt with today.
My unread emails. It was like being drenched in cold water after sitting in warm sunlight.
Automatically, I sat up and perched on the edge of the bed, reaching for the dress I’d worn the night before, trying to mentally prepare myself for the walk of shame, Venice style.
‘Hey.’ Olly sat up behind me and curled his arm around my waist. ‘No need to get up just yet.’
I lay back down, my body flush against his, but it was too late to stop my mind from racing towards work.
How were we supposed to work today? How were we supposed to nail Esme and Ajax’s speech when everything was still so up in the air?
And I needed to call Dad, to check he was okay after everything that had happened in the last few days.
The blissful quiet of my mind was already dissolving under the pressure of a hundred bullet points.
I sighed, trying not to tense, and failing.
‘What’s up?’
I shifted in his arms. ‘Just. Got a couple of things to sort out at home.’
‘Anything I can help with?’
I shook my head. ‘Nothing worth talking about. Today is going to be challenging, isn’t it? They’ll want to know the script. The final version.’ I sat up again and reached for his shirt from the floor. It was deliciously infused with the scent of him. Far nicer than the crumpled dress on the floor.
‘We’ll get some coffee, hammer it out. It’s pretty much there, anyway. And I can sit and watch you working away while wearing my shirt which is, frankly, quite the turn on.’
I laughed. ‘No. That’s not going to work. I need to go back to my hotel and transform myself into corporate Lizzy again.’
‘Do you?’ He sounded unconvinced.
‘Yes!’ My voice was brittle, fake-cheerful.
I stood up, wondering if I could take the water taxi home in his shirt alone, deciding against it, and picking up the dress.
It offered full body coverage, at least. ‘This has been so wonderful,’ I said, removing the shirt and pulling the dress over my head, my hands unsteady.
‘But I can’t give myself the luxury of pretending it’s real life.
Real life means grey-skied London, financial obligations, family worries, and our bosses having a car crash of a love affair.
All of this… was magical, but it’s not the real world. ’
He watched me adjust my dress, propped up on one elbow, taking in my expression. ‘Are you… running away?’
‘No!’ I squeaked. Even to me, my voice sounded comically high pitched.
‘I’m sorry, what?’ He cupped a hand to his ear. ‘I think there was a bat in outer Mongolia that didn’t hear you.’
I picked up a pillow and threw it at him.
‘Come here.’ The tone of his voice changed. Firm, unyielding, slightly rough and – I had to admit it – very sexy. Obediently, I walked back to him and knelt on the bed.
‘You used the past tense, just then,’ he said. ‘Was last night – and the other day – a casual thing for you?’ He held my gaze. I can take it, his expression said.
Here’s your out, Lizzy, I thought. If I wanted to step away from the abyss of intimacy, he was giving me the chance to exit gracefully, despite everything we’d shared.
But every instinct, every cell of my body rebelled against the idea of that.
Against the idea of lying to him. ‘No,’ I said.
‘Not casual.’ It wasn’t exactly a declaration of affection, but it was all I could manage.
He exhaled. ‘Thank fuck for that. Get out of here, then.’ A slight smile twitched on his lips. I was starting to depend on that smile.
I leaned forward, kissed him. ‘Thank you. Let’s take care of business then take care of this.’
He rolled over, got up. ‘Agreed.’ Then he went to his wardrobe and got out the sweater I’d borrowed from him after the acqua alta. ‘For the trip back,’ he said. ‘It’s cold out there. I’ll see you later. Don’t lose it, it’s one of my best ones and I’d have to invoice you.’
‘Such a smartarse.’ I pulled it over my head.
‘Takes one to know one.’ He pulled me close, inhaled, groaned. ‘Go on, go. Or I’m not going to let you go at all.’