The first house we viewed was a no from the start. The garden was post stamp size and there was no lawn – not that many houses in London had a lawn to start with, but it was on Liam’s wish list and given he’d be in the house for a lot longer than I would, there was no point in arguing.
The second house was the one that I’d discounted at the start. It was four bedrooms, with a garden room that was already soundproofed, but it was a conservation area which would limit what could be done to improve the external parts of the building. I’d lived in a house with those restrictions before and knew they could be problematic.
The estate agent met us there, smiling broadly at us both but her eyes kept going back to Liam. She recognised him and he seemed oblivious to it, more interested in the period features that were protected and questions about the neighbourhood.
“Where have the owners moved to?” Liam asked, looking at the window frames. He’d told me a couple of days ago that he’d helped out on construction sites when he was about twenty to get some money between gigs. I got the feeling he was more practical than he let on.
“New York. They’ve been there a few months but have only just decided to sell this now. You’re the first viewing.” She smiled at Liam, then at me. “I read you’re getting married – is it true?”
Liam nodded. “We are. This will be our first proper home together.”
His lie sounded far too convincing.
Was it a lie? I wasn’t sure anymore. We seemed to be working the whole relationship thing fairly well so far, although Amber’s visit had bothered me more than I’d wanted it to.
“Congratulations. You make a gorgeous couple. Let me show you round the house.” She beamed again and led us in the front door. The heating had been put on and someone had been in to place fresh flowers. Coffee had been brewed – all typical techniques to sell houses.
It felt right.
I followed the agent round, listening to her give some of the history of the place; it had apparently been home to a Victorian novelist at some point. Liam lingered in rooms behind us, tapping walls and taking a few photographs.
“Can we have ten minutes to look round ourselves?” he said when we’d exhausted every room.
“Sure,” she smiled again. “I’ll wait in my car and lock up when you’re done. Take your time though – I have a book to read in my car.”
“Thank you.” Liam muttered it and put his hand on my back, guiding me into the house and towards the stairs. “What do you think?”
“It ticks all your boxes. The conservation area bit will be a pain.”
“I can live with that. What do you think about this room as the master.” He’d led me to the room at the back of the house. “We can knock through there and have a freestanding bath, plus and ensuite. There are no restrictions on anything we do internally.”
We.
What Amber said resonated in my head:but he’s using you to get what he wants.
This didn’t seem like it. Liam was too arrogant to put on a pretence this good and for this long. We’d signed an agreement that set out everything. For either of us to pull out now would be costly and pointless. And we’d been sleeping together – there was no point him putting on such an act – there was no need.
“You want us to share a bedroom?” I’d expected him to want his own space amid the occasional hookup seeing as neither of us would be getting our rocks off with anyone else for a while – not that I wanted to. The man turned me inside out.
Could turn my heart upside down too, if I let him.
He closed the bedroom door then walked back to where I was standing, near the large bay window that looked out over a garden that was slim but long and tree lined.
For a moment his thoughts looked like they had serrated edges.
“We can have separate rooms. We’re both used to living on our own and you know…” I touched his arm.
He put his hands on my hips. “If you want separate rooms, that’s fine.”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t think so. We’ll be here a bit on our own – each of us anyway. I’ll probably spend at least half of each month in Iceland once it’s up and running.” He shrugged. “Although we might end up with the same schedules, if we wanted to play it that way. It’s up to you.”
“I would’ve put money on you wanting separate rooms.”
One of his hands ran up my side, grazing my boob. I’d left my coat near the door, given the house was so warm. Underneath I just wore a thin blouse, my interviewing outfit and a pair of slacks.
“Is that what you want?” His hands became braver, fingers dusting over my breasts, my nipples hardening.
