Chapter 9 #2
‘You’re right, I know. Miracles don’t happen overnight.
I just never expected to feel like this – like I wanted to be needed?
If you’d asked me a year ago how I’d have felt if I came back here, I’d have said “desperate to escape in three minutes flat.” And there’s still a bit of that, it’s always going to be part of me, but I also really feel the pull of it – the appeal of being here with people I love, being part of their lives, depending on them and letting them depend on me. ’
He props his face up on his hand, looking down at me intensely. ‘That’s a scary thought, isn’t it? People depending on you. What if… what if we let them down?’
‘I know. It’s terrifying. Shit, we need to stop talking about this, it’s way too heavy!’
‘It is. You want to make out instead?’
I laugh and whack him on the chest. I know he’s just trying to lighten the mood, and it’s definitely working. ‘How very dare you! What on earth gave you the idea I’d be interested in such behaviour?’
‘Every word out of your mouth since we met?’
‘You’re deluded,’ I reply firmly. ‘I find you physically repellent.’
‘Oh. Okay. Are you sure? You looked like you were going to pass out earlier, before I put my T-shirt on…’
‘Yes. The sheer disgustingness of you made me queasy.’
We laugh some more, and it chases away the melancholy that we were both feeling.
‘I’m really glad we bumped into each in the woods,’ I say, snuggling a bit closer to him.
He scoots me into his arms, my head resting snugly against his chest, and replies: ‘Me too. I’m not sure if I’d have stayed otherwise. ’
I nod, letting myself relax against him.
He smells good and clean and fresh, and it’s insanely comforting to be here in this little cocoon, wrapped in the arms of this man.
I feel safe and free at the same time, which is my ideal state of bliss.
I look up at his face, the shape of his jaw and the firm outline of his cheekbones shadowed in the dim light.
He really is madly attractive, and part of me really wishes things were different.
‘If I’d met you on a starlit night in Africa,’ I say, smiling at the idea, ‘I’d have absolutely jumped your bones.’
He grins, his eyes shining. ‘I can picture the scene,’ he says. ‘Campfire, beer, one of those irritating hippie dudes playing bad Bob Dylan covers on an acoustic guitar…’
‘God, there was always one of those, wasn’t there?’
‘Always. We’d have snuck away together, your place or mine, and spent one of those perfect nights with strangers. You know the ones.’
I do. It is one of the facts of a transient life – meeting different people, never really knowing them, sharing intense times and special moments that define you more than names or normal commitments.
Is that what Guy and I would have been? Ships that pass in the night?
A fun evening of mutual pleasure and then goodbye, so long, what was your name again?
Maybe we would – and maybe this is better.
This is real friendship, I think, not something glittering that burns bright and fades away just as quickly.
Still, I’d be lying to myself if I denied the fact that I also feel the tug of the man.
If I denied the fact that part of me wants to slide my hands under the fabric of his top and touch the muscle that I know lies beneath.
It would be so easy to shift a few small inches, change the whole mood of this encounter.
Throw my leg over his hip and pull him closer, turn my face up to his for a kiss…
Lordy. My whole body lights up at the idea, and I start to think it might be time to leave. I’ve always assured him that I don’t mean it, that I’m just a flirt, that there is no intent behind my saucy banter. But right now, in this moment, I’m really not sure I’ve been totally honest with myself.
I risk a glance upwards and immediately regret it. His green eyes are bright, and his wide mouth is set and serious. His fingers go to my face, gently stroke the skin of my cheek, a soft touch that makes me sigh.
Something has changed here, and I have no idea why.
Maybe it was talking about our old lives.
Maybe it’s an extension of our need for comfort and understanding.
Maybe it’s the physical proximity – we’re both human beings, and we’re pressed up against each other in a way that makes it impossible not to notice certain things.
His thumb runs across my lips, and I groan as we both move even closer to each other. His hand drifts up and down my side, and I close my eyes and allow myself to enjoy the sensation.
‘What’s happening here?’ I murmur. ‘This wasn’t part of the plan…’
‘I don’t know what’s happening,’ he replies, his breath warm against me, his voice low and taut. ‘But I think I like it…’
He’s going to kiss me, I know. He’s going to kiss me and I am going to love it.
And if I let him kiss me, there will be no going back.
I will not be able to resist his touch, or say no, or hold off from what my body is so desperate for.
It will change everything, and it will not be fair.
He has no idea what kind of a mess he’s getting himself into.
It takes every ounce of willpower I have, but I put my palms flat on his chest and push him away. ‘No,’ I mutter. ‘Guy, this is a mistake. We can’t do this. Please.’
I know my resolve is weak here, and I hope that he is the kind of man I think he is – the kind that will listen to a woman and not try to change her mind.
I know he could. The way I already feel, the heat that is coursing through me, is proof of that – he could very much change my mind if he wanted to.
He lets out a frustrated moan and throws his hands over his head. ‘Okay,’ he rasps. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘You didn’t do anything that I didn’t want,’ I assure him. ‘And believe me, I wanted even more. Turns out you’re not that disgusting after all.’
He laughs and rubs his face with his hands, like he’s trying to pull himself back into reality. I know how he feels.
‘I still feel like a dick,’ he says ruefully. ‘You always told me you were just flirting. I knew you didn’t mean it, I just got carried away.’
I prop myself up on my elbow, and smile at him. ‘We both did. Please don’t create a narrative for yourself where this was all your fault, and I’m some innocent. I got just as carried away as you did.’
His eyes roam over my face, and I know what he will be seeing.
My pupils will be dilated, my skin flushed, my hair in disarray.
I will look like a woman who was very much enjoying herself only seconds earlier.
A flicker of confusion, and he asks: ‘Okay. I believe you. So, if we both wanted this, and we were both enjoying it as much as we seemed to be, then… why not? Is it too much of a commitment?’
‘Ha! Don’t bring the C word into this, Guy! Look, it’s complicated…’
‘That’s another C word.’
‘Damn you and your knowledge of the alphabet.’
He’s looking up at me, and I see the hurt in his eyes. I have rejected him, and he doesn’t understand why. I owe it to him to explain, and frankly this is not something I can hide for too much longer anyway.
‘It’s complicated,’ I say, after taking a deep breath, ‘because I’m pregnant.’