25. Chapter 25
25
T he taxi pulled away, and Katie fumbled in her bag for her keys.
She caught a heel on the garden path and lurched forward, only to find Tom’s arm around her waist, stopping her from toppling over.
‘Steady on!’ He laughed as they stumbled their way up to the front door.
Katie snorted and smothered a belch as the porch light came on. It took three attempts to stab the key at the lock before she slipped it in. The latch clicked, and they staggered into the house.
Katie led the way into the living room, kicked off her heels, and breathed a sigh of relief as her toes wiggled in their newfound freedom on the deep carpet. Tom followed her and collapsed at an angle onto the sofa, award statue in his hand. She watched as he loosened his tie and tugged it out from under his collar, shoving it into his pocket. His fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, tugging them undone. Katie’s eyes lingered on the opening at his throat and a few dark hairs that curled over the white shirt edges. Tom, dishevelled in a tux and sprawled on her sofa, was even sexier than Tom looking pristine at the start of the night.
‘You sure Martin didn’t want to take that home?’ she asked, slipping off her wrap and flinging it on a chair.
Tom shook his head. ‘I heard Gemma say, ‘that thing isn’t coming into my house’.’ He squinted at the award. ‘It’s not that bad, is it?’
‘Define bad,’ Katie said. ‘I mean, if it was designed to be placed at the back of a cupboard, in total darkness, and only to be brought out for ceremonies summoning evil spirits, it’s okay.’ Tom snorted. ‘But if it’s intended to be on public display, then…’
‘Yeah, I think the company that makes these awards isn’t about to win any design awards of their own any time soon…. It’ll be in the office on Monday morning anyway, so I don’t have to live with this haunted horror for long.’
He grimaced at it and placed it gingerly on the floor beside the sofa.
Katie grabbed an oversized jumper from a pile of clean laundry teetering on an armchair and slipped it over her head.
‘Drink?’ she asked, smoothing the jumper down over her hips.
‘Sure.’ Tom leaned his head back onto the back of the sofa and grinned at her. ‘That’d be great.’
She grinned back, her cheeks heating as she ducked through the doorway into the kitchen.
Taxis had been hard to come by as the event finally drew to a drunken and ribald close. The MC had sweated his way through the last few awards, speaking to an ever-dwindling and disinterested crowd, and had practically sprinted off the stage when the last statuette was handed over.
After waiting for more than twenty minutes, they finally got one. Tom had tried to insist that Katie take it while he waited for the next one, but she had suggested they both head back to hers for a nightcap; Tom could get a cab from there later. A toast to the end of the pact, she had said. Tom hadn’t hesitated before joining her in the back of the cab. On the ride home his arm had been slung easily across the back of the seats, his fingers brushing her bare shoulder as the car jolted through the late-night traffic.
His speech thanking her had melted whatever frostiness had remained between them, but also opened up a Pandora’s box of questions. They had sat holding hands for the last two hours of the awards dinner, speaking into each other’s ear, giggling at in-jokes.
‘Remember when you shouted ‘enjoy’ at the hotel clerk in Italy?’
‘Remember when you asked the waitress if the food would taste better if it was room service?’
‘Remember when we snuck pizza in via the fire exit?’
Neither had mentioned that final night in Pisa.
She was glad he was there. But now what?
This was their last night. They had said as much. As soon as he got into a cab to head home, it was all over—the pact was completed.
She thought of him in there, lounging on her sofa, filling out his tuxedo jacket so beautifully, his shirt undone. She thought of what she knew was underneath that shirt. She opened the fridge and leaned into the cold air, taking in a lungful of the cold, hoping it could take the heat out of her. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted from him—just that she didn’t want him to go.
Shoving a pizza and a half-eaten cucumber to one side, she pulled a bottle of wine from the back of the fridge. Taking two glasses down from the cupboard, she caught sight of her reflection in the kitchen window. She hesitated. She looked a little wild, her loose hair redirecting itself, strands falling about her shoulders. The too-big-for-her jumper was slipping off one shoulder, and the satin dress peeking out from underneath shimmered in the light. Then she spun on her heel and went back to the living room.
Tom had taken his jacket off and slung it on the back of the chair on top of her discarded wrap. Something about the intimacy of their clothing piled together like that tugged at something inside her. She felt her mouth dry up and she longed to get into the bottle of wine. Tom was standing, looking at some photographs in frames on the bookcase. There were photos of Katie with friends, skiing, a road trip with Jess, with her parents at Christmastime.
‘You look great,’ Tom said, nodding in the direction of the photos. ‘Happy.’
Katie glanced up at the pictures. ‘I was,’ she said, smiling, ‘but then, who frames sad pictures?’
‘Let me,’ Tom said, taking the bottle from her. He opened it with one twist, and Katie held out the glasses to be filled. Her living room felt smaller with him in it. Her furniture felt like it had shrunk. She felt hyperconscious about space and where she was in relation to Tom.
Hurriedly, she sat on the sofa. Tom planted himself beside her but not close enough to touch, not unless she reached out or leaned in.
Now that they were there, on her sofa, she was at a loss for words. The elephant in the room might as well have its big grey bum wedged on the sofa between them. For a moment, they sat in silence and sipped the wine.
‘I think I can feel tomorrow’s hangover already.’ Tom grimaced, dragging a hand down his face. There was the faintest hint of a five o’clock shadow along his jaw. It just made him look more dashing.
Katie grimaced and tipped her head back into the sofa, her face turned to him. ‘I know, me too. It was worth it, though, wasn’t it?’
Tom looked at her then, eyes on hers. ‘It certainly was,’ he said, his voice slow and low.
Katie tried to ignore the rapid pace of her pulse.
‘All of it, I mean,’ she continued.
She swallowed and fiddled with the stem of her glass, wiping at condensation running down the side, tiny drips falling on the skirt of her dress.
‘The pact, supporting each other, the party. Even that horrific spa.’
Tom laughed. ‘It was,’ he said in a soft voice, his eyes fixed on her face.
‘I don’t know what I would have done, left to my own devices.’ She was aiming for a lightness in her voice, but she sounded plaintive. ‘I mean, no one else really understood what we were going through. And I think,’ she pulled at a thread on a cushion, emboldened by an unaccounted-for number of G&Ts, and now wine, ‘we had some fun along the way, didn’t we?’
‘We really did,’ Tom replied in a husky voice, so gravelly she barely caught his words.
Katie felt her stomach turn over. She turned her wine glass in her hands.
‘I meant what I said tonight,’ he said.
He shifted his weight on the sofa, angling himself towards her. His arm stretched along the back of the cushions, his hand resting beside her face. Katie stared at him.
‘You did?’ she said, hesitating, unsure if they were talking about the same thing.
‘I did. I um.’ His eyes dropped for a moment, and then his gaze met hers. Heat and something determined flickered in his eyes. ‘I am very grateful that you’re in my life. And not just because of the past few months. I know this is the last thing we agreed to, and you’re probably looking forward to the end of the pact and getting on with your life but—’
‘I’m not!’ Katie blurted out. ‘I mean, I want to get on with my life, but I am sorry that it’s over. Our agreement. I looked forward to our adventures.’
She shifted her weight and leaned forward a little. They were sitting sideways on the sofa, inching closer.
Tom grinned. ‘Yes, wardrobe malfunctions, picking you up from the dentist…’
He whistled and raised his eyebrows.
Katie laughed. ‘Winning really ugly awards…’ she added.
‘Knowing Melissa and Ryan will be pissed off that we won Best Business, not them.’
The mention of those two names burst the bubble. Katie sank back a little into the sofa.
None of this was real, she told herself. It’s too soon. This is just a rebound. It’ll get messy, don’t do it.
‘Are you okay?’ Tom asked.
His hand dropped from the back of the sofa to rest gently on her shoulder.
Katie felt like she had been stung and jumped up.
‘Yes, of course. I just…’ Katie looked at him, his face open and expectant. He seemed to realise something had changed because he drew his arm back in, resting his hand on his knee, waiting to see what she would say.
‘I…I’ll be back in a second,’ she said and hurried from the room.
She stood in the kitchen, leaning on the countertop, breathing deeply. The sensible thing to do would be to give him a hug, say thanks mate , for the support these past few months, then call him a cab and show him the door. That was the sensible option. But she couldn’t do it. The thought of saying cheerio, closing the door, and waking up tomorrow without knowing she would see him again was too much. She hadn’t felt this distressed when she found out Ryan was cheating on her.
She kicked a cupboard in frustration with her bare foot and yelped when it hurt more than expected.
She was still hopping and trying to decide if the redness was her nail varnish or blood when Tom appeared in the doorway.
‘What are you doing?’
Katie straightened and sighed.
‘I kicked the cupboard and hurt my toe,’ she mumbled.
Tom moved towards her, a puzzled expression on his face. His shirt appeared to have opened by at least one more button, and he had rolled his sleeves up. Katie had a tall, dark-haired, handsome man in her kitchen and she was talking about cupboards.
Heaven preserve me.
Katie’s eyes ran over the back of his neck as he bent to squint at her foot. She pulled it back out of sight.
‘Why are you kicking cupboards?’ he asked. ‘Is it broken?’
‘It might be now,’ Katie said dolefully.
At the mournful tone, he stopped in front of her. ‘What is it?’
He cupped her shoulders in his hands, then his hands slid down her arms until he caught her fingers in his. She didn’t have it in her to say anything more than the truth.
‘I don’t want you to go,’ she said in a strangled whisper.
Tom squeezed her hands. ‘I don’t have to go,’ he said with a smile. ‘We haven’t even called a cab. I can stay for another drink.’
Katie shook her hands free. One more drink. That’s what he thought she meant.
They weren’t on the same page. It was all in her head, just as she had feared. It was a rebound. Worse—it was a one-sided rebound. He had got it right when they were in the pub—it was a one-night stand. And now there would be one more drink. And then it was over.
‘Sure,’ she said with forced brightness, stepping sideways to move past him so he wouldn’t see the expression on her face. ‘Let’s have one for the road!’
Tom caught her arm as she started to move past him back to the living room. She came up short, pressed into his side.
‘I mean it,’ he said, his voice softer now, his mouth against her hair, his breath whispering past her ear. ‘I don’t have to go. Not if you want me to stay.’
Katie, struggling to speak and refusing still to give in to whatever this was, replied, ‘What do you want?’
She twisted her head to look at him and tipped her face back, feeling her lower lip tremble but clamping down on it. Looking him dead in the eye, she challenged him to answer. His eyes were dark, and, standing in her kitchen barefoot, his hand holding her in place, he towered over her.
In answer, Tom turned her and pulled her into his arms. One arm slid around her waist, pulling her close, while the other grabbed a handful of hair, tipping her head back. His lips brushed over hers, and a tiny moan escaped her mouth. Then his lips were on her jaw, down the side of her throat, and back up the other side.
Katie’s arms snaked up around his neck as Tom’s mouth closed over hers. The kiss was insistent, urgent, his teeth pulling at her bottom lip, his tongue meeting hers. Katie felt heat sweep through her body and pool between her legs. Her hands were in his hair now, as he bent her backwards, deepening the kiss. Tom groaned into her mouth as their bodies pressed together, and she felt his need for her.
Even as Tom’s hand slipped under her jumper and brushed the bare skin at the small of her back, her brain wouldn’t shut up. Little Doubting Katie, who lived in her head, had questions. She pulled back, one hand on his chest, a tiny barrier between them. Tom’s eyes were hooded and glazed, his breathing heavy.
‘What if this is just a rebound?’ she asked, her eyes flicking over his face to read his reaction.
Tom pulled back further and looked at her, his eyes inches from hers, but he didn’t let her go. He cupped her face, his thumb stroking over her cheek. His head dipped to slowly press a kiss to her temple, along her eyebrows, and down the side of her cheek before he brushed a kiss across her lips.
‘What if it isn’t?’
Katie felt her stomach turn over. She dug her fingers into his shoulders. Tom’s eyes were dark pools, and she felt like she might fall in.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before, Katie,’ he grated out. He swallowed, his eyes not leaving hers. ‘With anyone. But if you’re not sure, we can stop.’
She felt his arms soften around her, and she knew without a doubt he’d let her go, do whatever she wanted. It only made her want him more.
Katie felt herself teetering on the edge. If she leaned one way, she would fall safely back into her very ordinary life. A newly single woman, recently cheated on by her now ex-boyfriend. She would, in the fullness of time, get set up with someone by a friend, join a dating app, or maybe stay single for a while. It all felt very sensible, known, and knowable. Safe.
Or she could lean the other way, into this feeling that felt like it was inside her, around her, and of her. There was no knowing what might happen, and it could all end in tears, recriminations, and more hurt than one person should have to handle. Or it could be the best chance she ever took.
She lifted her eyes and met Tom’s gaze. ‘I’m sure,’ she said as she pressed into him, raising her lips to his.
His hands were roaming over her hips, sliding over the satin fabric. As he pressed her back against the kitchen worktop, she felt the counter edge cold and hard against her back. He was pulling at the dress fabric now, sliding it up over her legs. She could feel his fingers brushing against her thighs. She leaned back and yanked her jumper over her head.
Tom stopped for a second as his eyes raked over her, his chest heaving. Then he let out a guttural sound, and his lips dropped to her throat, burning a trail down to her breast bone and then along the line where the silky fabric skimmed the top of her breasts.
Her fingers were in his hair, holding him to her. He pulled back for a moment and her hands went to his shirt buttons, fumbling to prise them open. She pulled his shirt free from his trousers and slid her hands under the fabric, running her fingers over the warm, toned skin, feeling the rough hairs above the waistband.
Tom took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, his thumbs grazing her cheeks. Katie felt like her legs had turned to jelly, and her fingers had turned into thumbs as she leaned into him and clumsily undid the last button on his shirt, pushing it open wide, running her hands up and over his chest. Tom dropped one hand from her face as his knee gently nudged her legs apart. She felt the satin fabric sliding up her legs, then his fingers were brushing her skin, and his hand was making lazy circles on her inner thigh, climbing slowly higher, higher on the soft, sensitive flesh. His knuckle brushed against her between her legs, and she bucked forward. His thumb was stroking her now, and Katie saw stars.
‘We should go upstairs,’ she gasped.
‘Okay,’ Tom said into her mouth, pressing her against the counter, making no attempt to move. She could feel his fingers pressing harder between her legs. She felt one finger slip under the skimpy fabric of her knickers, sliding in the wetness there, massaging her, felt his arousal hard against her thigh. One finger slipped inside her, and Katie’s hips arched.
She pressed her face against the bare skin of his shoulder and bit and licked the skin there as she tried to swallow a moan.
Tom raised his head, his eyes locked on hers as he slid his finger out, then back in with agonising slowness, then drew back out, watching her all the time. When he pushed back in again, he added another finger, stretching her wider. Katie clung to him and gasped into his mouth as his fingers started moving faster and harder and he brushed his lips across hers, his breath coming in uneven pants.
‘Katie,’ he rasped into her ear, ‘I want you so badly.’
A sound that at first seemed far away became more insistent.
Tom paused and took a half step back, his hands now on her arms. Katie hated the sliver of space that had opened up between them. She reached for him, wanting to feel the full length of his body pressed hard against all of her, wanting to feel his fingers inside her.
Then she heard it again. A knock at the door.
She glanced at the kitchen clock. It was well after midnight.
She and Tom looked at each other.
‘Don’t answer it,’ Tom said, reaching for her. ‘Let’s go upstairs. It’s probably just kids messing about or a takeaway driver with the wrong address.’
Katie’s mind was whirring. ‘Or it could be an emergency. Jess or my parents. I need to answer it,’ she said, pushing down her dress. ‘I’ll only be a second. Wait here.’
Tom, hair tousled from where she had run her hands through it, smiled at her. He leaned against the counter, shirt falling open, and spread his arms wide. ‘I’ll be right here.’
She took a mental picture of the beautiful man standing in her kitchen.
Katie ran her hands through her hair as she stumbled to the door on unsteady legs. She touched her fingers to her lips, wondering if what she had just been doing would be obvious to whoever was on the other side of the door.
She smoothed down her dress, reached for the handle and swung open the door.
‘Katie,’ Ryan said. ‘I told you at the dinner, I think I made a mistake.’ He put one foot in the doorway. ‘Hear me out. We need to finish this conversation.’