Chapter 15
I’LL GIVE YOU MY MORNINGS
Mornings are one of the most important times of the day to me.
It’s the only time of the day I have to myself, when the world around me is sleeping.
The idea of inviting someone else into those sacred mornings has always scared me but, with Luc, I don’t know…
it was different. I wanted him there. He’s never seemed to have any effect on my social battery.
I unlock my front door, expecting something to happen the minute I close it behind us. It doesn’t. We stand in the darkness, clambering out of our shoes.
Luc breathes heavily as he bends over to untie his shoelaces, while I forcibly squeeze my feet out of my heels without loosening the buckles, kicking them to the side once they’re off.
‘Can I get you a drink of anything? A snack?’ I ask, sounding like the mother in Mean Girls.
‘Uh, actually water would be great.’ The gravelly tone of his voice is gruff against the darkness, lit only by one of the street lights outside the gate through the frosted window to the side of the door.
I leave him in the corridor, turning the light above the hob on and distracting myself with the tap.
I don’t hear Luc come in behind me until I feel his warm breath against my cheek. I take a gulp and then hand him the glass.
‘Oh, we’re sharing, are we?’ he asks.
I open the cupboard and grab my own glass, but he takes it out of my hands and puts it back.
‘I don’t mind sharing,’ he whispers.
‘May I?’ I reach for his glass, my fingers brushing against his in the exchange, and take another sip from the top. ‘Do you– are you sure you don’t want a glass of wine… or anything?’ I eye the wine glasses hanging upside down above the kitchen side, moving my arm towards them.
Luc puts his hand on mine, stopping me in my tracks, and a comfortable heat foils in my stomach.
He caresses my face with his hand, turning me to face him.
He loops the fingers on his other hand through mine, hanging limply at my side.
‘No, thank you.’ He is frowning, the light from the extractor fan illuminating only half his face.
It’s different now that we aren’t in the corridor. Now we know no one is going to walk in on us. We’re not on one of our fake dates anymore. Crossing the line now would bulldoze our boundaries.
There would be no pretending this was for the benefit of the plan.
I’m painfully aware of it, and I can tell from how Luc isn’t moving that he is too. Not daring to get closer to me, but also not pulling away. Stuck in that limbo. The before and the after.
My phone starts ringing in my handbag, haphazardly dropped by the front door. Neither of us move, letting it ring out in silence.
‘So, the plan?’ Luc interrupts the quiet when the phone stops ringing. He looks over my shoulder. Our breathing laboured, heavy in the dense air.
I lead him up the stairs. For a moment, I consider going into the music room to buy myself time to think, but my feet lead us to my bedroom.
I close the door quietly, leaving Luc standing in the middle of the room, and turn on my bedside lamp.
I disappear into the en-suite and put on a pair of silk pyjamas.
When I come out, Luc is directly in front of me, and I fall into his embrace. He runs his hands up and down my skin, pulling a chill down my arms. Our faces hover millimetres apart, his warm breath skimming my flaming cheeks.
‘Can I?’ he whispers.
I swallow loudly, my breath quickening. I look at the door for a few seconds before I nod and Luc’s fingers find my chin, lifting my head towards his and leaning in closer. I’m frozen until Luc’s lips reach mine, tentative at first but deepening with the part of my lips.
Consider that boundary bulldozed.
I don’t remember it feeling this good. Even from all those years ago, when he would press his lips against mine and the rest of the world would fall away.
I would forget where I was, or how my album had gone to number one.
How up until that point I hadn’t believed there would be someone out there for me.
I melt into him, my chest pressing against his, and he wraps his arms around me.
They find the bottom of my back, skating the top of my underwear under my pyjamas.
I pull back a couple of centimetres, holding Luc’s hand.
It’s enough to create the smallest amount of distance between us so I can sit on the bed, scooting back until I am against a pillow.
Luc follows me, his lips finding mine all the way.
Once we are laying down, he pushes his arm underneath my neck, draping the other over my body. He pulls back, far enough that I can almost focus on his face.
‘I need to take my glasses off,’ he groans. ‘Lying down. So uncomfortable.’ He fluffs his pillow and leans against it. He swallows. ‘So, we should talk…’ he begins. ‘The rules…’
Oh.
My turn to swallow.
It’s for the best. We set those rules for a reason.
‘I want to make sure we’re both on the same page,’ he says. ‘That we’re both thinking the same thing in the long run.’
My body clams up and I cross my arms across my chest. He moves my head with his finger so that I’m facing him again, his eyes squinting without his glasses while they search my face.
‘I want to make sure it’s right…’ he trails off, his eyes bruising my lips. ‘I don’t want a repeat of ten years ago. You can’t regret it and run.’
That’s exactly what I’d do, and he knows it. Those rules are in place for a reason, and we can’t completely disregard them.
There is no long run. We’re still ending it at the beginning of the tour.
Luc doesn’t know it yet, but my life would ruin his.
His entire life would become about me, which sounds big-headed.
But would he be Luc Nicholls, award-winning screenwriter, or would he be Luc Nicholls, Sienna Martin’s boyfriend?
One look at the news coverage of our relationship so far tells me what he’d be.
‘I appreciate you saying that.’ And I do.
The last thing we need is to make the next few months awkward because we crossed a boundary. The plan is finally working, and I don’t want to ruin our newfound friendship. It’s easy to fall back into old habits and desires, but our friendship is fragile enough.
I pick up the tele control from my bedside table and turn it on. ‘Shit film?’ I offer.
Luc agrees, reaching out and holding my hand while we lie stiffly on opposite pillows. The contact makes my heart thump, sweat gathering in the crevices on my hands.
A few minutes into the film, Luc lifts his arm up, inviting me into the fold. I don’t move for a few seconds, but the invitation is too warm, too inviting. I rest my head on his chest, his fingers painting a canvas on my back. It’s too hot, but now I don’t want to move. It’s comfortable, okay?
I haven’t done this, watched a film in bed with someone else pressed against me, since the last time Luc and I were together.
For most of those three-and-a-bit months, we spent a lot of time within the four walls of my house, getting to know each other and our bodies without the world getting to know us as a couple.
To see whether what we could have was real before inviting scrutiny into our lives.
We watched a lot of DVDs, listened to a lot of CDs and spent a lot of time in my songwriting room.
Luc set up his own office-type station in one corner where he could write while I worked on my music.
It was all too perfect. Maybe that’s what scared me. What made me run.
Usually for me now, it’s sex and sleep. Cuddling up with someone breaks all my boundaries of a casual fling. I never wanted to lead them on when I was only after one thing.
My eyes are fluttering closed, the heat and the comfort overwhelming me with sleep. I try to fight it.
Luc presses a warm kiss against the top of my head. ‘I want to know that we’re doing this because we’re us and not because we’re anyone,’ he whispers.
I’m usually an active sleeper, waking up with the pillows thrown on the floor, the duvet half hanging off the bed.
But we’re still in the same position when I come to.
Luc is already awake, watching the tele on silent to let me sleep.
It’s an old rerun of Friends, the subtitles telling us the audience are laughing.
I pull myself off Luc’s chest, a crook in my neck screaming.
‘Hey,’ I say, conscious of my morning breath in his face. The back of my throat is shredded, my voice husky. I gulp down the water from Luc’s bedside table.
‘Hi,’ he smiles. He hesitates for a second before reaching up and brushing his lips across mine.
He surveys my face, waiting for my reaction, waiting to see if last night’s desires have translated into today, or whether I’m ready to run.
But I’m pliable with sleep so, to answer the question he didn’t ask, I put my head back down on his chest. I rise and fall with the movements of his breath, my body sticky with sweat.
‘My doctor is coming over this afternoon,’ I say. ‘She’s got my results for my voice.’ My voice is taking longer than usual to come back this morning. The water hasn’t helped in the same way it usually does. I sound like I still have the cold which caused all these problems.
‘Are you nervous?’
I shrug, trying to brush off the nausea in the pits of my stomach. ‘Not really. Whatever she says, we’ll work with it.’
‘It’s okay to be anxious about it, Sienna. This is your livelihood.’
A singular tear slips over my waterline, and I try to catch it before Luc spots it. Unsuccessful. When a tear falls from the other eye, Luc brushes it away before I know it’s there.
‘If I let myself spiral now I will tornado into oblivion,’ I whisper.
Luc winces. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ he asks. ‘Do you want me to be there for the appointment?’