Chapter 10
The next morning, we’re still in the same position, neither of us has moved a muscle. I try to roll off him to go to the toilet. His grip tightens around me.
“Going somewhere?” his voice is more gravelly with sleep.
I peel my head off his chest, it was way too comfortable there. I smile at him. “Not what you think, lover boy, I need the toilet.”
“Loverboy?” he asks, his lips twitching.
“It’s the nickname my friends may have given you. It started all those years ago, and when we hooked up again, it re-surfaced.” I grinned at him.
He chuckled, “Why ‘lover boy’? Dare I ask?”
“You were such a player back then, and we thought you were still a player now. You’ve proven you're not that anymore; we were out of order.
. . I was out of order. Also, and I'm not sure I should tell you this part for fear of your head getting too huge, but I may have mentioned that you were ‘OK’ in bed.”
He smiles roguishly at me. “Only ‘OK’ huh?”
I push myself off him and walk towards the en-suite.
“Yeah, only OK,” I say over my shoulder.
He laughs as I close the door.
We take a shower together, where he makes me come with his talented fingers.
When we get out and get dried off, he makes me a breakfast of bagels and cream cheese, with a long-overdue cup of tea.
It’s easy, chatting, eating with him, the banter, there's zero awkwardness. I still can’t believe he got up on stage and said those things about me last night. I’m happy.
He brings me out of my daydream when he asks. “What are we doing today?”
We?
“I have to go to The Trafford Centre to pick up Jess’ birthday present, I'm afraid.”
A massive shopping complex in Manchester is not gonna be his idea of fun.
He shrugs, “Can I come?”
I gawp at him like he’s crazy. “You want to go shopping?”
“I want to go wherever you are, and if that’s the Trafford Centre, then so be it. We can shop for a while, and when you’re done, we can go for something to eat before we have to pick the girls up.”
I smile at him, “I’d like that. Can we call at my house so I can change? My dress or your t-shirt would not work at the Trafford Centre.”
He checks out my legs, which are exposed in his t-shirt. “You look sexy as hell in my top, if I had my way, you’d stay like that forever . . . but yes, we can swing by your house, seeing as I’d punch someone’s lights out if they looked at your legs while we were out.”
I shake my head at him and laugh.
He suddenly grabs my hand across the kitchen table. “I'm so happy that you decided to give me a chance, babe. I won’t let you down - I care about you and I'm going to make you smile like you’re smiling right now, every single day. Let me woo you . . . you deserve to be wooed.”
“I like the idea of being wooed, it's never happened before.” I grin at him. “I'm glad I gave you a chance, too. Come on,” I say, patting his thigh. “We’ve got shopping to do.”
I put on my dress again and cover it with one of his t-shirts so that I don’t look like a total hussy, and he gets dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt with a motif on it.
He looks hot, like he does in everything, and today he’s going to be seen with me!
Him and me together. Women will be ogling him, and he’s mine!
I love that, I’ll be able to hold his hand and put my arm around him. Love it!
He waits downstairs in my house while I get changed.
It’s a sunny May day, so I wear my knee-length denim Capri pants and a white vest top, brush my hair, and pile it up on my head in a loose ponytail.
I put on my favourite yellow sandals, and add a little bronzer and lip gloss.
I check out my reflection – am I good enough to be seen with a hot rugby player?
I’ll have to be because this is as good as it gets.
I'm not going to be anything other than me, I’ll never be a glamour girl, the type that puts on her makeup before she leaves the house every morning - not that there’s anything wrong with that, if anything I'm always rather envious that they look good first thing in a morning on the school run - but I’m not programmed that way.
I run downstairs, and when I get to the bottom, he’s waiting for me there. I give him a big smile.
He places his hands on my waist, holds me at arm’s length. “You look beautiful, Kate.”
I put my hand on his chest. “Behave.” I’ll never be able to take a compliment well.
“No, I mean it, babe.” My stomach does that fluttery thing when he calls me 'babe'. I get that it’s a term that many men and women use, and it means nothing, but when he says it to me, I love it, it makes me feel like I'm his.
He carries on, “I can’t stop smiling that everyone seeing us together today, will think we're a couple... stupid, I know.”
My heart drops. Thinking we're a couple? Stupid me, I thought we were one.
He must see the disappointment in my face. “What did I say?” he frowns.
“Nothing,” I say, giving him a small smile. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Hey, tell me what I said. I'm sorry, am I going too fast for you?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. I just thought that we were a couple... sort of . . . or trying to be.”
“We are, I meant that people would assume we are and that I like it.”
He lets go of me to run his fingers through his hair.
He looks back up at me softly. “Cards on the table here, I want to be with you.
You know that, and everyone around here knows that after the idiot I made of myself last night.
The fact that you want me to refer to us as a couple?
Well, that makes me happy . . . really fucking happy, I'm not just saying that, it really does . . . it’s all I want.
I'm really into you, I want this to work - but I'm scared of screwing it up again.”
I bite my lip. I've created that fear in him because I've messed him around so much, he doesn’t have a clue where he stands. I slide my hand around the back of his neck to pull him towards me. He responds, and his mouth meets mine. It’s a slow, languid kiss full of promise of fantastic things to come.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. His voice sounds rough. Emotion? Lust? Maybe both, I don’t know him well enough to figure it out yet, but I smile to myself when I realise that I will be getting to know him well enough to know what every sound he makes means.
I smile at him, “Let me get my bag.”
He nods. “I’ll wait in the car.” He pecks me on the cheek and walks out.
I slide into his gorgeous black Land Rover, which is totally him, squirming in my seat as I watch him drive, feeling hot! He senses me watching him and looks up, grinning, then gives me a wink, which makes me worse.
Moaning and groaning is expected when I tell him I have to go to The Disney Store, but as it turns out, it doesn’t matter if you’re a man or woman, you have a four-year-old daughter, you’re a regular at the Disney store - he doesn't seem fazed by it at all. I browse around and pick up what I need for Jess’s birthday.
I could spend hundreds of pounds, but I have to restrain myself.
I drag him into a couple of other shops.
Halfway around, he grabs hold of my hand, and it's lovely.
There are so many places to choose from when we go to eat, but I'm in the mood for tapas – I'm always in the mood for tapas – so he takes me to La Tasca. He insists on paying for everything, and the food is delicious.
On the way home, he rests his left hand on my thigh when he doesn’t need it . . . it’s comforting. As we're nearing our neighbourhood, I should bring up our ‘thing’, whatever that is, and what’ll happen at school and in front of the girls.
“I'm kinda nervous about seeing you at school tomorrow.” I shift my body so that it’s half facing him.
He glances at me quickly. “Why? What’s to be nervous about?”
I shrug. “Dunno, it might be weird. I get that we’re seeing where this is going – us, I mean.” I motion between the two of us. “But I don’t want to tell Jess anything yet, so you can’t act any different towards me when you see me at school... the mums will talk.”
He’s silent for a while, it takes an age for him to speak.
“I understand you don’t want to tell the girls yet, give you a chance to get used to the idea of us, but I can tell you now that this” and he makes the same gesture between us both “is going to happen. I don’t care if you hand out flyers in the playground telling everyone about us.
” He takes a hand off the wheel to run his hand through his hair.
“We’ll tell the girls that we’re friends, OK?
They're gonna have to get used to the fact that we’re gonna see each other in the week and they’ll be around to see it, I’ll take it easy in the playground if that’s what you want, but everyone will find out sooner or later – just so we’re clear. ”
I nod and remain silent. That’s me told. We pull into my street, and he parks in front of my house and turns off the engine. “I'm coming in with you.”
“Ok, honey,” I say quietly. His eyes soften at hearing my endearment. He swings out of the car, and before I get my seatbelt unfastened, he has my door open for me. I didn’t have him down as a gentleman. My gentleman. I beam at him as he holds out a hand to help me out of the car.
“Jesus, you’re never opening a door again if that’s the reward I get. Fucking gorgeous smile, babe.”
I open my front door, and he follows me in. I kick off my shoes and turn to him, “Can I get you anything?”
“Yeah . . . you can.” He says gruffly. He turns me around in the hall and pushes me backwards so that my back is against the wall, his pelvis pressed into me.
He leans in to kiss me, and I say into his mouth. “Have a thing for halls, don’t you?”
Before he makes contact with my lips, he raises his head back up. “No, but I can’t wait until you walk into the living room before touching you.”
His head bows down to my level. He looks at me for a moment, then his eyes move to my lips. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
I do as he says, fisting my hand in his t-shirt, pulling him towards me, bringing his mouth to mine.
It’s a relief to be kissing him again. I open my mouth, and his tongue delves in, not too much, just enough that it sends electricity bolts through me, so I touch his tongue with mine.
He groans and leans his body into mine so that we’re touching from head to toe.
He brings his hand to my hair, getting a fistful, and pulls my head back to give him better access.
The kiss goes on and on, getting deeper and deeper. I could kiss him forever.
He breaks off from the kiss, resting his forehead on mine, and mutters, “I can’t believe you agreed to give us a go, that I get to do this to you in your hall. You won’t regret it, I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”
“I already don’t,” I say huskily. “Come upstairs, Nate.”
I want him, I know what it feels like to have him, and I want it again.
He lifts his head, and his eyes have darkened, hooded with want. He shakes his head as disappointment crosses his face, and he checks his watch.
“I can’t. It’ll make me late picking Luce up. Wish we’d skipped lunch right now so that we’d have had time to get in your bed.”
I put my hands on his waist, sliding my hands under his top to touch the muscles of his back. He trembles slightly. “We’ll get plenty of chances.”
“Fuck . . . I want to take you upstairs right now. Want you to call me, honey, while you’re coming.”
I slide my hands out again and playfully push him away. “Go get your daughter. Mine’s due home soon anyway.”
He leans in to give me a chaste kiss on the lips. “When can I see you again?”
“Why don’t you come around after dinner with Lucia? We can watch a movie? A girly one, of course.” I say laughing.
“Don’t care what we watch, sounds like a fucking brilliant idea. We’ll be there around six if that’s ok? Then Luce doesn’t have too late a night.”
I nod, “It's a date.”
He groans and kisses me one more time. “See you later, babe.” And he leaves.
Well, that day couldn’t have gone any better. I hide Jess’s presents at the top of my wardrobe and tidy the house, waiting for Jess to come home, my head full of Nathan, the biggest smile on my face.