Chapter Twenty-Eight Lee
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lee
The next morning I wake up in a state of bliss. Which is to say, I wake up in Nico’s arms.
Last night, after a long and very fun dinner with Phoebe and Tara (and yes, Luke, who arrived holding her hand and looking at her like she was made of diamonds), the pair of us had been extremely polite and formal about our sleeping arrangements.
After we’d both used the bathroom – where we changed into our pyjamas – I politely offered him his choice of side of the bed, he politely demurred to me, and this went on for a while before we slipped quietly under the sheets, both clinging to our separate edges of the mattress, a wide gulf of bed linen between us.
Then Nico turned out the light and I lay there for ages obsessing over the fact that he was in bed with me, and I could hear him breathing, when only a few hours earlier he had kissed me. Actually kissed me. Not that either of us had mentioned it.
We’d certainly showed Charles, though. And that was the whole point.
Right?
Eventually, I must have fallen asleep because I wake up, and even though the room is in gloomy darkness, it feels like a morning kind of gloom. I’m not lying at the edge of the bed anymore, I’m right in the middle of it, and I’m wound around Nico like an invasive plant species.
My head is tucked under his jaw, my cheek resting on his chest, one arm flung over his torso as he lies on his back. One of my legs is thrown over his, so I’m basically straddling his thigh. His hand, large and warm, cups my backside.
I don’t move. I hardly dare to breathe. I have no idea if Nico is still asleep or not.
When his chest continues to rise and fall in a steady rhythm, I relax a bit, let myself enjoy this, the feeling of being held by him.
Unfortunately, the hand he has on my ass is extremely distracting, and when I move, he makes a sleepy sound, pulling me even closer.
The pressure of his thigh between my legs increases and I swallow a gasp.
Nico’s fingers flex, digging into my flesh, and he mutters again.
He rolls over, taking me with him, and now his front is plastered to my back, his heavy arm pinning me to the mattress as he spoons me.
At this point it becomes very apparent that I am not the only one at the mercy of their hormones, because the long, hard length of him is pressed against me, so close to where I want him, that this time, when his hips move, rocking against me, I do make a sound – a sort of pained whimper.
There’s a brief, charged silence, and his breath catches. Is he awake?
He makes the same movement again, the same lazy thrust, and I keep my eyes tightly closed.
I’m pretty sure he’s awake, but right now both of us have plausible deniability, and I have no intention of putting a stop to things.
Instead, I grind lightly against him, and he’s the one who makes a noise, a slow hiss of air between his teeth.
When his arm shifts, his hand coming to rest, flat against my abdomen, I wonder just how far we can take this, lying here in the quiet and the dark.
He nuzzles at my neck and I stretch, lean back, giving him better access.
His lips trail a gentle line along my nape, his teeth scraping against the tender skin there.
His hand slips down, lower, lower, his index finger dips beneath the waistband of my pyjamas…
A sudden banging on the door has us springing apart.
‘It’s six a.m.!’ Phoebe yells. ‘Rise and shine!’
‘Waaa,’ I make an inelegant noise, levering myself up into a seated position just as the alarm on my phone starts blaring. I smash around on the nightstand until it turns off.
Beside me, Nico sits up, looking as shell-shocked as I feel.
‘Good morning,’ he says, his voice a low rasp in his throat.
‘Early morning.’ My response is bright. Too bright? ‘Remind me who thought it would be a good idea to be up at six a.m. on a Sunday?’
‘That would be you,’ Nico says, scrubbing a hand over his face. ‘You’re the one who wanted to go up to the overlook and catch the sunrise.’
‘Only because you and Phoebe said it was so beautiful,’ I protest.
Nico only grunts. ‘Why don’t you use the bathroom first?’ He shifts his weight, pulling at the sheets, and of course my eyes drop instantly to his crotch.
‘Yup!’ I agree, leaping out of bed while my cheeks flame. I grab the pile of clothes I’d already laid out for this morning. ‘I’ll be quick, don’t worry.’
‘No rush,’ I hear him murmur dryly as I close the door to the bathroom.
I stand with my forehead pressed against it for a moment. Did that really just happen?
By the time I emerge, dressed in black wool trousers and a thick, cream jumper, Nico seems to have got his situation under control because he’s out of bed and rooting around in the closet.
‘Magda has some walking boots out by the front door,’ he says over his shoulder. ‘With a pair of thick socks, they should work. There’s a bit of a climb up to the lookout. It’s not far, but it’ll be tricky in your stilettos.’
‘Thanks,’ I manage, slipping out the room as fast as humanly possible.
‘There you are,’ Phoebe grumbles, while Taco dances excitedly around her feet. ‘This was your idea, remember.’
‘I know, I know,’ I agree, flustered. ‘But you only just beat the alarm on my phone so…’
Phoebe digs out Magda’s boots from the pile by the door, and I pull them on. They’re a tiny bit big, but they’ll do.
‘Okay.’ Nico comes blasting out the bedroom, dressed in the sort of thick grey woollen jumper that has me writing fisherman fantasies in my head featuring storms outside the window of a small stone cottage and a fire crackling in the hearth as we slowly remove our – oh no! – soaking wet clothes.
His dark curls are dishevelled, the stubble along his jaw could almost be called a beard at this point and a green canvas backpack is thrown over one shoulder.
He stalks through to the kitchen, setting a flask under the coffee machine and pressing buttons, before grabbing cereal bars and bottled water and throwing them into his bag.
This level of efficiency is really doing it for me.
He screws the lid on the flask. ‘Let’s get going, we don’t want to miss it.’
We pile into the truck and a fifteen-minute drive later we’re winding up the steep side of one of the hills that flanks the town. At the top of the road, there’s a small car park, and we’re the only ones there.
Phoebe and Taco lead the way, already familiar with this route, and Nico and I linger behind.
The gloom is lifting, and the world is draped in an unpromising grey as we follow the dusty footpath, carved between lumbering rocks and scrubby undergrowth.
So far Nico and I have not said one single word to each other, and I’m busy trying to convince myself that it’s because we’ve fallen into a companionable silence, rather than because we’re both feeling awkward about what happened in his bed.
I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other as the path grows steeper, and when I stumble over an exposed root, Nico’s hand is instantly there, in the small of my back, steadying me. The brief moment of contact has me sucking in a sharp breath, and he pulls away at once.
After a couple of minutes, we round a corner, and the world drops away almost underneath our feet, the view suddenly opening up, a wide and dazzling panorama.
‘Oh!’ I exclaim, unable to come up with anything more eloquent.
‘Just wait,’ Nico murmurs, his face turned towards the scene below: the rolling blanket of trees gilded with gold and amber, tumbling down towards the sea, Roseport laid out like a toy town in the middle of it all.
He squints out at the horizon where the first, sleepy light of the day gathers, smouldering like embers in a grate.
‘I saved you a seat,’ Phoebe calls, patting the space beside her on the simple stone bench where she sits, Taco at her feet.
I drop down beside her, burrowing further into my coat as the wind whips around us.
‘Chocolate milk for you,’ Nico says, holding out a carton to Phoebe, who happily accepts.
‘And coffee for you.’ He pulls out the flask and pours me a cup, strong and dark in an enamel mug.
I cradle it in my hands enjoying the warmth, trying to take in every detail of the scene in front of me.
Minute by minute, the light is intensifying, streaks of pink and orange paint the sky, and it’s so beautiful it doesn’t look real.
Nico still hasn’t sat down, and he roots around in his rucksack a moment before he pulls out what is undeniably a camera case.
I freeze, whipping my gaze forward again, determined not to make a big deal of this.
Aside from a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment of hesitation, there’s nothing about Nico to justify my concern. He handles the camera easily, moving quietly around, the only sound the rapid click of the shutter.
As the minutes pass, and the light pours over us like water, Nico’s posture relaxes more and more. He climbs up onto a rock at the edge of the drop, his step sure and steady as he pauses to adjust some of the settings on his camera.
‘Are you going to take one of us?’ Phoebe calls after a few minutes, seemingly unaware of or unbothered by the significance of this moment.
‘I am.’ Nico jumps down, while Phoebe gets to her feet, encouraging Taco to pose in front of the view. The two of them look so cute together, and I see Nico smile from behind his lens.
I lean forward, my elbow on my knee, my chin resting in my hand as I look at them, the three of them together.
I watch while Nico calls out instructions, and Taco jumps up to lick Phoebe’s face, while she giggles, and the whole world unfurls glowing and beautiful below them, and I feel for a moment like my heart is going to burst.
That’s the instant that Nico captures with his camera, the instant before I draw back, embarrassed that he’s turned the focus on me.
‘Come and stand with us, Lee,’ Phoebe demands. ‘I bet you can get Taco to sit properly.’
‘Can you take a selfie with that fancy camera of yours?’ I ask Nico.
‘Let’s find out,’ he grins, and he pulls me in tight while I sling an arm over Phoebe’s thin shoulders, manoeuvring her in front of us, a triangle of smiling faces. ‘Say flax seed,’ Nico sings.
The sound of the shutter merges with our groans.
‘Was it worth getting up early for?’ Nico asks, his arms still around my waist.
I look up at him. The wind is ruffling his hair, his smile is wide, I can feel his giddy pleasure in this moment. Something important just happened.
‘Yes. It was worth it,’ I say.