She may have a point, but I’m not ready to admit it to her yet, or even to myself, although I don’t know how much longer I can go on fooling either one of us.
“No. Really. It’s just the sex is soooo good. I mean off-the-charts good. I’m grabbing all I can get while I can. It’ll be over soon enough. So what’s the point of introducing you? You know how you are. You’ll get attached, and then when we break up, you’ll be sad.” I don’t realise my misstep until Ro responds.
“Aha! You can’t break up from a not-a-thing. So, it must be a thing.”
“It’s not. And you know what I mean. When we both move on is what I should have said.” I wave my hand as though none of this means anything.
“Would it be so bad if it was a thing?” It feels like Ro is accusing me of something.
“Yes. You know I don’t do love.”
“But you do, though. You love me. And you love your dad. You let us in.”
“That’s different.”
“I don’t see how. If something happened to one of us, you’d still be heartbroken. I hate seeing you waste your life. You have so much love to give, Lu. And what about children? Don’t you want kids one day?” I’ve never had a panic attack, but I think I might be on the verge of one right now.
“You know, I don’t think children are on the cards for me. I mean, I love them, and I can’t wait to be Mad Arty Aunt Lulu to yours, but for me? I don’t think so.”
“Seriously?” Rosanna manages to look sceptical and disappointed at the same time.
“Seriously. It’s hard to juggle kids and creativity. With kids, you have to be present, in the moment. And when I’m painting, I’m all up in my own head. I can’t see how it would work.” It’s a story I’ve been working on in my head ever since I started hearing the faint ticking of a clock.
“I feel like you’re making excuses to fit the narrative you’ve told yourself. Don’t throw away a chance at being happy because you’re scared.” There’s that accusation again.
“I’m not scared, and I’m not making excuses. And once and for all, the thing with Nick is not a thing. It’s great sex. Period.” That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it, whether Rosanna buys it or not.
“Right. You keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile, I’ll be watching with the popcorn.” Ro mimes shovelling popcorn into her mouth.
I laugh, but something inside me flutters. I know Rosanna is right, and I’m fooling myself. We do spend every night together. The key I had cut for him today seems to be sniggering at me from inside my bag.
I pretend to be engrossed in the toffee-apple red being painted onto my toes.
“We’re spending this weekend on his company boat,” I drop, hoping for casual. That gets a snort.
“Yeah. Not a thing. I’ve never known you to delude yourself like this before.” Ro leans over and squeezes my hand. She’s certainly laying it on thick here.
“Well, it can’t be a thing because neither of us are interested in having a thing. And you’ll feel silly when it’s over and he’s gone.”
“Hmm. I feel like it might not be me feeling silly. Please be careful you don’t shoot yourself in the foot, Lu.”
Rosanna’s warning from earlier in the week echoes in my mind as I get ready to head to the marina on Friday afternoon. Even though Nick said I wouldn’t need anything but a toothbrush, I pack shorts and swimmers. He can’t be serious that we’ll be naked all weekend. Although I wouldn’t complain.
Part of me wants to bring up the conversation I had with Rosanna with Nick. Not the kid’s part. The ‘thing’ part. But the minute he walks in the door, all those thoughts fly out of my head and I fall into the moment. Just the sight of him. Or the spicy smell of his cologne, or the sound of his voice, has the power to completely derail any rational thought I might be attempting.
Nick left work early, but it’s still dusk by the time we climb onto the boat. I’m surprised when I open the fridge to put in the cheeses and wine I had brought. “The fridge is full of food.”
“Of course it is. I got the club to stock it for us. We’ll need to keep our energy up.” Nick gives me a flirty grin as he heads for the cabin in the front of the boat with our bags.
“Is that so?”
“Damn right. I’m going to devour you on every flat surface of this boat and maybe some vertical ones. You’ll need sustenance.” My belly clenches in anticipation as Nick’s powerful arms come around me from behind. I try to squeeze the cheese into the already-packed fridge as his hands slip into the waistband of my shorts. I suck in a deep lungful of his delicious smell and run my hands along the muscles of his forearms.
“And here I thought you were going to teach me to sail.”
“That too.” He kisses my neck and moves away up the galley stairs, giving me the opportunity to ogle his fine arse and legs. “First lesson is casting off. Then I know a nice private spot we can anchor for the night.” I can tell by his expression why he wants privacy, and I can already feel the heat building between my legs.
On deck, Nick explains what I need to do with the ropes, then quickly and expertly steers the boat away from the dock.
