Chapter Five Powerless
~ Alex ~
‘Home at last.’ Alex took Casey’s hand as they disembarked from their plane at Heathrow. ‘Time to get back to normal.’
‘I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,’ Casey offered. ‘We had such a great time. Our honeymoon! A once-in-a-lifetime event — and now it’s over.’
‘We’ll have another honeymoon sometime,’ Alex promised her. ‘A renewal honeymoon before we get old and grey.’ He tried for levity, but Casey looked crestfallen.
‘Don’t say that! I don’t want to think about us as old and grey.’
Alex nudged his wife in the side. ‘Isn’t that rather the point of getting married? To grow old together?’
‘Sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to it.’
Alex huffed, and it was Casey’s turn to nudge him. ‘I’m not looking forward to being old and grey, you oaf.’ She laughed. ‘I am looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you.’
‘That’s all right then.’ Alex smiled.
They joined the queue for customs and soon found themselves in the Arrivals lounge at Heathrow’s Terminal 5.
Alex let out a deep, contented sigh at the familiar sight. ‘Home at last,’ he repeated.
It was true: they had had a great honeymoon. But the fact remained that they still hadn’t made love.
Alex gulped. His feet kept pace with Casey’s as they headed towards the taxi rank outside the terminal, but his mind was miles away.
What on earth had happened to him?He felt deeply unsettled by his inability to satisfy the woman he loved. He simply couldn’t understand what was going on. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel excited. He got aroused. Horny. Desperate, even. He simply couldn’t perform.
And it wasn’t only him either. They hadn’t really talked about it, but Casey, too, suffered from some sort of libidinal challenge. One time, he had very nearly managed to join her, but Casey’s body had been uninviting. She had been very embarrassed, and he had laughed it off, trying to be supportive in the same way she had loftily glossed over his floppiness at times. Still, if it wasn’t one of them, it was the other; and he suspected that most of the time it was both of them. All bluster and promise with no delivery. Why?
After a few sleepless nights with no answers, he had pinned his hopes for resolving their stalemate on getting home and back to normal. He had it all planned out in his head. He would carry Casey over the threshold of their house, and then he would rip her clothes off and take her on the hall floor. Or maybe on the sofa in the lounge. Perhaps on the kitchen table? They hadn’t done the kitchen table before. He chuckled.
‘What’s so funny?’ Casey broke into his thoughts.
Alex replied before he could check himself. ‘I’m thinking about our kitchen table.’
‘Our kitchen table?’
‘Yeah. You know, we’ve never done it there.’
‘Ah.’ Casey sent him a knowing look. ‘Shall we get home then? I could do with a shower.’
‘Oh gosh, me too,’ Alex agreed hastily.
‘It’ll be dinnertime by the time we get back.’ Casey was making some kind of point. Alex checked his watch. Fourp.m.
‘Yeah.’ He nodded.
‘It’ll have to be a takeaway as we have no food in the house.’
‘Sure.’ Takeaway always appealed.
‘How about Thai?’
Alex concealed a grin. There was an agenda there, he could tell. He played it cool. ‘Thai is fab.’
‘Great.’ Casey smacked her lips in an exaggerated fashion. ‘I fancy something with lots of ginger. And lots of chilli.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ Alex wondered about the importance of ginger and chilli, but he didn’t get a chance to ask as it was their turn to grab a taxi. He told the driver their destination, and they settled into the backseat.
Alex watched the familiar Heathrow landscape zip past them.
‘Amazing how this whole ritual of driving home from the airport really says “you’re home”,’ he commented. He could feel some lyrics churning in his brain, words forming to capture the emotions he was experiencing.
‘Very true.’ Casey leaned against his shoulder and switched her mobile phone on. It began to beep and chirrup instantly.
Alex chortled. ‘That also says “you’re home”. Perhaps we’d better emit a sign of life to friends and rellies.’ He switched on his own phone, which instantly jumped to life.
For the next forty-five minutes, while the taxi carried them towards their little terraced house in Notting Hill, Alex and Casey tapped away at their mobile phones.
Alex finished checking his messages first. Casey was talking to Sasha, laughing, smiling, and gesticulating widely as though Sasha could see her. Actually, Alex realised with a start, they were doing a video call so, yes, Sasha could see Casey . . . and him. He waved.
Casey rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. ‘Ignore him, Sasha. He’s a bit preoccupied.’
‘Is he now?’ Alex heard Sasha’s response. He flashed her what he hoped was a confident smile and turned away to leave the friends to catch up. Here was his chance . . .
Surreptitiously, he hopped onto a search engine to satisfy his burning curiosity. Why chilli and ginger?
Ah. Go figure.Chilli and ginger were reputed to be natural ways to enhance one’s libido. Alex grinned. He and his wife were two of a kind, and their minds definitely worked in the same way.
At last, the taxi pulled up in front of their house. Alex paid the driver and unloaded their suitcases. He struggled up the steps to their front door and barely managed to stop Casey from entering the house.
‘Casey, wait,’ he puffed and set down the cases heavily. ‘There’s something I’ve got to do.’
Casey turned back, both feet mercifully still on the outside. ‘And what’s that?’
‘It’s customary for the husband to carry his new wife over the threshold of their home, so . . .’ He swooped Casey into his arms. ‘Here goes.’
Casey squealed with glee and held on tight as he shuffled them both sideways into the hallway. Their Victorian terrace was narrow, and the front door wasn’t wide enough to accommodate an adult-sized body going through it lengthwise. So Alex jiggled and squeezed and hop-stepped inside amidst much laughing, and he was very proud of himself indeed. Another tradition honoured. He planted a kiss on Casey’s mouth before he set her down, and she replied hungrily.
‘Mmmmmm-mmmmmmh!’ she moaned, and Alex’s body instantly replied to her signals. He put his arms around her waist and held her tight. Perhaps he should simply kick the door shut and take her there on the floor after all.
For a few seconds, they remained locked in their passionate embrace, and Alex’s heart beat right in his throat. But then Casey wriggled free with an apologetic smile.
‘I really need the loo,’ she whispered, hopping from foot to foot. ‘So sorry!’
‘That’s okay.’ His voice came out all squeaky like that of a hormonal teenager, and Alex coughed to clear his throat. ‘No problem. I’ll get the cases in and make a cuppa, shall I?’
‘That would be lovely. You’re the best! I won’t be a minute.’
Casey hurried upstairs, and Alex retrieved their belongings from outside their front door.
‘Where do you want the suitcases, honey?’ he called out.
‘Oh. Good question. Leave them downstairs. I’ll put a wash on later.’ Casey’s voice emerged muffled from the upstairs bathroom.
‘The kitchen, then.’ Alex hauled the luggage into their open-plan kitchen-diner and piled it strategically near the washing machine. Next, he filled the kettle with water and switched it on. His mind was playing out ‘scenarios for later’ while he took two mugs out of the cupboard and added teabags and sugar. He had visions of visiting every room in the house, making love on the kitchen table, the sofa, the hall floor, the guest bed, the main bed — who knows, maybe even in the bath? He was dreaming up a romantic marathon, and he was raring to go.
He drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter as the kettle failed to boil, but that didn’t speed matters up. Impatient, he went to the fridge to get the milk. The very moment he opened the fridge door he remembered that there would be no milk. He stared inside anyway, confused as to why it was so dark. At the same time, the complete lack of hissing and spluttering from the kettle finally registered in his brain, and he abandoned the fridge. The kettle was dead.
‘Alex?’
‘Hm?’
‘There’s no hot water.’ Casey stepped into the kitchen, her face the picture of dismay.
Alex straightened up. ‘Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with the kettle—’
‘Forget the kettle. There’s no hot water.’
‘Really? How come?’
‘How should I know?’ Casey snapped at him and looked immediately contrite. ‘Sorry.’
‘No worries. Let’s have a look at the boiler.’ Alex squared his shoulders. The boiler was his domain. They had pink jobs and blue jobs, and pink appliances and blue appliances. The washing machine was pink, which is why he had been wise to leave the dirty clothes in the suitcases. The boiler was definitely blue.
He opened the boiler cupboard and frowned. ‘The control lights are off.’
Casey meanwhile flicked on the switch for the ceiling lights. No lights came on. He heard her open the fridge door and close it again while he was still staring at the boiler, willing the little green lamp to glow. Then he heard her open the freezer door and gag. A vile smell instantly filled the room, and the freezer door slammed shut.
‘Eurgh.’ Casey retched. ‘We’ve no electricity. And everything in the freezer is completely spoiled. It’s revolting.’
‘We’ve no leccy?’ Alex echoed. ‘As in, there’s a power cut?’
‘I don’t know. It would have to be an awfully long power cut for all the food in the freezer to defrost. It must have been off for days.’
‘Hmm.’ Alex’s heart sank. Dealing with utility companies was also a blue job, so it would fall to him to figure out what had happened. But that wasn’t why he was frustrated. He was frustrated because once more his plans had been foiled. There was no way they would be getting romantic under the circumstances. He suppressed a sigh.
Really, he raged silently as he leafed through their electricity bills in search of the emergency contact number, someone up there has it in for us. What have we ever done to upset the god of love? Why can’t we just come home like normal people, get a takeaway, have a shower, and make mad passionate love?
‘Hey, chin up.’ Casey was philosophical about it. ‘We can still have that takeaway. And who knows? With a bit of luck, the power will be back on soon and we can get on with things.’ There was a definite double meaning there, and she winked. Alex’s spirits lifted slightly. Perhaps Casey was right, and this would all be fixed quickly.
He started making phone calls and soon discovered that their house had somehow disconnected itself from the main electricity supply.
‘The junction box to your house has blown,’ the electricity distributor informed him rather too cheerfully. ‘We’ll get the engineers out to you now. Don’t worry, mate, you’ll be connected up again in a few hours.’
So while they were waiting for the engineers, Alex found himself pacing the floor, emptying out the drawers of spoiled food from the freezer, washing them in cold water — yuck — and pacing the floor once more. Casey went to get their Thai takeaway meal and wine. When she returned, they lit some candles and ate their meal at the kitchen table, all the while keeping an ear out for any signs of engineers showing up outside.
But it wasn’t until nearly ten in the evening that the repair crew arrived at last. Instantly, the street’s peace and quiet was shattered by much drilling, digging, and rumbustious swearing.
‘This is a nightmare,’ Alex complained. ‘All I wanted was to come home from our honeymoon, unpack, unwind, and—’
‘Shh. I know.’ Casey tried to soothe him. ‘It’s not exactly what I had in mind either.’ She smiled. ‘Although it’s quite romantic, don’t you think?’
Alex did a double take. ‘What are you saying?’
Casey purred. ‘We had a nice dinner. We have more wine, we can’t watch telly, and we’re all alone . . .’
‘Bar the engineers outside.’
‘Yeah, but they’re outside. And they’re busy.’ Casey walked around the room and blew out all the candles, plunging the lounge into near darkness. Now the only illumination came from the mobile lighting rig the repair crew had erected by the hole they were digging.
‘We’re inside, in the dark,’ Casey continued. ‘They can’t see us, even though we can see them. Don’t you think that’s exciting?’
‘Hm.’ Alex laughed softly. ‘I suppose it could be.’
‘Come here.’ Casey tugged at his hands. ‘That’s better.’ She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his back.
‘Kinky,’ Alex murmured into her hair. He couldn’t believe she was going for it.
‘Opportunistic,’ Casey mumbled back. ‘They’ll be hours yet.’
‘Want to go upstairs?’
‘No!’
Alex was surprised by her emphatic reaction, but he didn’t bat an eyelid.
Casey softened her response. ‘No. Let’s not go upstairs. Let’s just . . . you know. Here. Now.’
She reached up and kissed him on the mouth. Faced with such persuasive tactics, Alex wasn’t up to much resistance. He returned her kiss eagerly. Within seconds, their hands where all over each other, stroking, encouraging, urging on. They were breathing heavily and swaying like a tree caught in a storm.
‘Mmmm,’ Casey moaned. ‘I love you!’
‘I love you too,’ he replied. He lifted her arms and tugged at her T-shirt, trying to lift it over her head. She wriggled and shimmied, stretching her arms up high to help him. Alex groaned appreciatively as he caught sight of her boobs encased in a black lacy bra.
‘Hello, girls,’ he breathed. ‘I’ll get you out of there shortly.’
Casey giggled. Right at that moment, the lights came on.
‘What the fu—’
Alex dropped Casey’s shirt like it was on fire, and they shrank apart. They blinked at each other in the glare of their ceiling lights, utterly confused.
The foreman appeared at the lounge window and knocked sharply. ‘You’re back on now,’ he shouted.
His crew clapped and cheered, with a few wolf whistles thrown in for good measure. Shouts of ‘more, more!’ could be heard, and it took Alex a few seconds to work out that those were directed at him and Casey. They were on display like mannequins in a shop window. The foreman waved, and the crew clapped louder.
‘I think we have an audience,’ Casey remarked, sounding half embarrassed and half amused. She blushed furiously and raked her hands through her hair as if to restore her decency.
‘Looks like it,’ Alex agreed, feeling mortified. ‘How embarrassing. What shall we do?’
‘Let’s wave at them. Might as well give them a show.’ Casey grinned and waggled her fingers in the direction of the windows. Alex followed her example, and they elicited a round of applause.
Casey exploded with laughter and took a bow for the engineers’ benefit. ‘Just imagine,’ she said to Alex. ‘It could have been so much worse. At least all they got to see was a bit of skin. Two minutes later . . .’
‘I suppose you’re right. Let’s hope they don’t read Rock Out, or we’ll be splashed all over Twitter within minutes.’ Alex enfolded her in his arms, and they watched as the repair crew lost interest in them, packed up their tools and left.
‘They didn’t look like we’d be their kind of band,’ Casey observed. ‘They certainly didn’t seem to recognise us. Gosh, this rock star thing could certainly have its drawbacks. I’m going to have to adjust to that.’
‘You and me both. Nice conundrum to have, potentially. Although—’
‘What?’
‘Emily would flay us alive if any untoward photos did appear of us. She’s one fierce lady,’ Alex grumbled darkly.
‘It’ll be fine, trust me. No harm done. Do you reckon it’s maybe time for bed at long last?’
‘Bed? As in bed?’ Alex wondered: Did she really have it in her to finish this?
‘Err — no. Maybe not bed. I think that moment has gone. Sorry.’ Casey smiled apologetically. ‘I was thinking of bed, as in sleep?’
‘Sleep would be good,’ Alex concurred readily. His mojo had completely evaporated, and he wasn’t in the mood to resurrect it. It had been a long day, too long. ‘I’m all for oblivion.’
* * *
~ Casey ~
‘Right. That’s another load in.’ Casey stood back with a satisfied smile and pushed the button. Water sloshed into the washing machine, and the drum starting rotating. She turned her attention to folding the load that had just come out of the tumble dryer.
Alex was out shopping, and Casey was tackling her various pink jobs. She grabbed her laundry basket and trudged upstairs to return clean garments to their rightful places in the wardrobe.
‘I’m such a housewife,’ she laughed at herself. ‘Well, when I’m not seducing my husband in full view of the repair crew. Have I always been that way, or does that come with being married?’
She cast her mind back to her and Alex’s relationship before the wedding and diagnosed that, in truth, they had divided chores into ‘his’ and ‘hers’ pretty early on. Probably they simply followed a natural order of things, a kind of Mars-Venus pattern. Although, to be fair, Alex was good at cooking, and he could operate the washing machine and the dishwasher. Only he was a bit haphazard about filling them properly.
No, Casey concluded, really she was no more domesticated and ‘wifey’ now than before their wedding. She was no different, except for the addition of a ring and a gorgeous husband. Albeit one who couldn’t perform most of the time!
Casey clapped a hand in front of her mouth. ‘I so totally didn’t think that,’ she declared to thin air. She was as much to blame as Alex on the sexual performance front. Perhaps they had got a virus. Some rare tropical disease contracted on honeymoon that stopped them from doing it. The can’t-have-sex virus. At this stage, Casey was ready to believe almost anything, regardless of how farfetched it sounded.
‘Nah. You’re being silly.’ She shook her head to clear her thoughts and set about folding up her lingerie. She adored her lingerie drawer. It was full of delicate lacy bras in white and pink, with the odd red and black ones thrown in. Plus, of course, there was her stage gear: the slightly more racy stuff that would show under the shirts she wore when Blue Heart performed.
She picked out her favourite black bra and matching knickers and held them against her body over the clothes she wore, turning this way and that while she looked in the mirror. Now that would have been something to show off last night. Maybe she should put these on and wait for Alex to return home with the shopping, wearing nothing but? She could arrange herself on the kitchen table, ready for action . . .
She pictured his face, and that did it. Quick as lightning, she stripped off her jeans and T-shirt and replaced her underwear with the racier set she had picked out.
‘Why, hello, sultry seductress,’ she murmured. She remembered how much Alex had admired her up-do on that fateful last night of their honeymoon, and with trembling fingers she attempted a quick reconstruction of the style. It didn’t quite work, but the result was probably more suitable for her designs anyway. She looked slightly dishevelled and befittingly come-hither. Perfect.
She heard a key inserted into the front door, and Alex’s greeting rang out. Damn it, he was too early. The kitchen table would see no action again, but maybe she could drape herself onto the stairs in some capacity . . .
‘Casey?’
‘Up here.’
‘Casey, are you there?’
Alex evidently hadn’t heard her. ‘Up here,’ she repeated, more loudly this time.
‘Excellent. Are you ready to go out? Myles called a band meeting. Apparently it’s urgent. Some kind of crisis with the tour next January.’
Band meeting?
‘What, now?’
‘Yes, now.’
Dammit.Casey’s pulse raced even faster. If Alex stormed in and saw her in her racy undies, they would both be frustrated. She grabbed her jeans and T-shirt and pulled them back on, dislodging the pins from her hair and shaking out her up-do. She sighed. Their predicament wasn’t only due to them. It was as though circumstances were conspiring against them at every opportunity. A storm, sickness, power cut, and now a band meeting. Whatever next?
* * *
‘Surprise!’
A cacophony of voices greeted Casey and Alex when they arrived at Myles’s place in Shepherd’s Bush. Myles had converted an old warehouse into a massive loft-style apartment, and his abode doubled as unofficial band HQ and rehearsal venue. But today, there was no evidence of band work. There was no evidence of a crisis, either. Streamers and balloons had been rigged along the high ceilings, a makeshift buffet had been erected at the far side of the lounge, music was blaring from the speakers, and all of the band plus dozens of their friends had assembled for what appeared to be a surprise party.
Liza launched herself at Alex and wrapped him in a big hug. She held him for just a second too long before flinging herself in a similar manner at Casey. ‘Welcome back, honey! We missed you!’
‘We thought we’d throw a party in honour of your nuptials, to welcome you back, and to celebrate with everybody who couldn’t make it out to the wedding.’ Myles grinned broadly and slapped Alex on the shoulder. ‘Hope that’s okay?’
‘It’s fabulous. I don’t know what to say.’ Alex grinned helplessly. ‘You had me all worked up about some crisis, and instead you’re throwing a party.’
Myles looked a bit sheepish. ‘Sorry, but I needed to get you over here pronto. No point in having a party without the guests of honour!’
Casey laughed. ‘You’re a star, Myles. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure.’ Myles winked at her, and Casey had an awful sense of foreboding. She remembered all too clearly Myles’s raunchy comments on the yacht on how Alex should ‘do her’ good and proper. He was bound to follow up on them. That would be exactly the kind of thing he would do.
She wasn’t wrong.
Myles continued talking. ‘Speaking of pleasure . . . I hope that man of yours showed you his wicked ways and wore you out during your honeymoon?’
Casey gulped. All of a sudden, the babble of conversation died as everyone waited for her answer. She should laugh and put Myles in his place, as she had done so many times before. But given the sexual non-events of their honeymoon, she found herself tongue-tied and unable to take the joke. Instead, she could feel a furious colour rising in her cheeks.
Liza came to her rescue, probably without knowing so. ‘Aw, look at her, she’s blushing! I bet we’re going to see a honeymoon baby in . . . oh . . . about nine months!’
The whole room burst out laughing, and Casey forced herself to join in. The awkward moment passed, and Myles marched off with Alex towards the buffet, no doubt to elicit salacious details. Well, she would leave Alex to ride that one out by himself.
She settled herself on a sofa flanked by Liza and Sasha and held court. Sasha was dying for the inside story on the honeymoon beyond the sparse details Casey had shared on the phone.
‘How was it, sweetie? I felt like I’d lost my right arm, not being able to contact you! I want to hear all about it.’
Casey rolled her eyes. ‘You’re as bad as Myles!’
‘I am not! I want to hear about the yacht and the cruise and all the fabulous places you’ve seen. How was it?’
Casey heaved a sigh of relief. She could have kissed Sasha for giving her a reprieve, and she gladly launched into an animated recap of all their adventures.
‘Dolphins? Wow! I’m so jealous!’ Liza exclaimed.
Casey glowed with the memory. ‘It was pretty spectacular, I have to say. And Sasha, you’re simply the best for all you did on our wedding day. I don’t know if I’ve thanked you enough!’
She pulled her friend into a hug. At the same time, she caught Alex looking at her from across the room, and she blew him a kiss. He winked at her, and she felt ludicrously thrilled. It was almost like the old days, when they first dated.
Sasha intercepted their exchange and chuckled. ‘Honestly, you. Hugging your best friend and making eyes at your husband at the same time. Tsk!’
‘They’re allowed to be a bit loved-up after their honeymoon,’ Liza said, her eyes on Alex.
‘A bit? I’d say, a lot!’ Sasha teased, as Casey’s reprieve abruptly came to an end.
‘So . . . did you have lots of lovely sex, then?’
‘You are as bad as Myles,’ Casey tried to prevaricate, but this time Sasha didn’t let her off. She and Liza nudged closer to Casey and started whispering to her.
‘Go on, you can tell us. Getting married, does it change anything?’
Casey swallowed, desperate to buy some time. How on earth was she supposed to answer this one truthfully? It wasn’t her fault that she was the first in their friendship group to get married, and after a month, she was hardly the authority on married life.
Besides, she longed to blurt out the truth about their peculiar difficulty, but she couldn’t quite get herself to do so. For starters, this definitely wasn’t the right place. What was she supposed to say? She stalled some more.
‘Why would it change anything?’
‘I dunno.’ Liza shrugged. ‘Does it make it more exciting? Less exciting? Did you do it non-stop?’
‘We’re your best friends,’ Sasha coaxed. ‘You’ve always told us everything! Don’t leave us high and dry now.’
Casey cleared her throat. Mentally she cursed all the intimate girlie chats she had ever had with Liza and Sasha, not only about Alex, but about their respective boyfriends-of-the-day as well. It had seemed so natural at the time, dissecting their love lives, every nuance, every movement: Will he call me? Does he love me?
Now all that was coming back to bite her, and she wished they had never gone there in the first place.
‘It was — it was great. It was exciting. Different exciting, but don’t ask me how. And yes, we kept busy.’ At least that wasn’t a lie; they had kept busy — just not in the way she was implying.
‘“Great?” That’s it? You give us “great” and “busy”?’ Sasha burst out laughing. Alex’s head whipped up, and Casey was worried he would guess what they were talking about. She waved coyly and blew him another kiss.
Alex mouthed something at her that might have been ‘you tease’, but she couldn’t be sure.
Casey rallied to her cause. ‘Yup,’ she said and grinned. ‘I give you “great”, and that’ll have to do. Married women don’t tell.’
‘Aw, no!’ Sasha and Liza protested in unison. ‘That sucks!’
Sasha threw Liza a meaningful look. ‘Perhaps that joke about the honeymoon baby wasn’t such a joke after all.’
If only!
Casey started sweating. She could feel her hands growing clammy, and she felt slightly dizzy. She wouldn’t be able to keep up the pretence for much longer, not with Liza and Sasha. Their probing eyes and inquisitive tongues would tickle the truth out of her sooner or later.
‘Drink?’ She jumped up before either of her friends could answer and went to explore the buffet.
‘Hey, honey!’ Alex was right there. He encircled her in his arms and kissed her ear. ‘Had a good chat with your friends?’
‘Yeah.’ Casey smiled her brightest fake smile. ‘How about you and Myles?’
‘Oh, you know. I fed him a load of technicolour stories about shagging you senseless.’
‘You didn’t!’
‘I did. I had to! It was that or hours of grilling. He got what he wanted to hear. Now he’ll go and spread rumours, and we won’t have to deal with any further questions. There’s method to my madness.’
‘I see.’ Casey laughed reluctantly. Somehow this whole talking about sex thing made her uncomfortable. She had never been a prude, but things had changed. Whatever happened to ‘what goes on in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom,’ she wondered. Was nothing private any more?
Alex leaned in closer. ‘Sweetie, I know it’s been tough. But . . .’ he faltered, and Casey could hear him swallow. ‘But I couldn’t really tell Myles the truth, could I?’
Casey wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck, and they started swaying in time to the music. ‘And what is the truth, exactly?’
The blood was roaring in her ears as she waited for his answer. Why did he have to pick a noisy party to broach the subject?
‘I don’t know,’ Alex mumbled softly. ‘I simply don’t know. But we’ll fix it, I know we will. I love you.’
He kissed her gently on the mouth, temporarily forgetting that they had an audience. Their friends clapped and cheered. Alex drew Casey closer still. She could feel his breath against her neck and see his pulse throbbing in a vein on his temple. At the same time, there was a hardness in his groin that pressed into her thigh, and she pushed against it eagerly.
‘I told you we’ll fix this,’ Alex repeated. ‘I want it. Do you want it?’
‘Oh gosh, I do.’ Casey didn’t care how trite that sounded. ‘I do. But . . .’
‘But what?’
‘But what if the house has fallen down, or there’s a flood, or a pair of burglars are doing unspeakable things on our bed?’
Alex laughed out loud. ‘We’ll deal with it.’
‘And what if . . .’ Casey hesitated.
‘What if what?’
‘What if it doesn’t work again?’
Alex tilted his head. ‘We’ll deal with that, too.’
‘How?’
By way of response, Alex ground himself harder into Casey. ‘We’ll figure something out.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise. But first, let’s dance. Let’s enjoy ourselves. Let’s have fun with our friends. Let’s take the focus away from the other thing. Maybe it’ll work if we pretend we don’t want it.’
It was Casey’s turn to laugh. ‘Pretend we don’t want it at all? I like it. Reverse psychology is the one thing we haven’t tried. Let’s go for it.’ She stepped out of Alex’s embrace and made a shooing gesture with her hands. ‘Be off with you and make merry with our friends. Just . . .’ She lowered her voice a little. ‘Just don’t drink too much. You know . . .’
‘I know. And you too.’
Casey shook her head. That was why she loved Alex, for these flashes of sensitivity and caring. Well, among other things. But really, what a turn-up for the books. They had very nearly had a proper conversation about their problems, and they had more or less agreed on a plan of action. That had to be a good thing. Channels of communication were being opened. They would conquer this . . . this thing that had befallen them. And for now, they would pretend they didn’t want it at all. What a grand idea.