‘I know you’re trying to look after us both. Friendship plus… whatever that was in bed is skimming pretty close to a relationship that neither of us wants. But this is the first time in a long time I’ve had theability– let alone the opportunity – to enjoy someone’s company, in bed and out of it. I can’t afford to question it, but I do rather want to embrace it – if you do.’
She was looking away as she made her confession, a strand of hair on her cheek, shoulders back. Their online conversations rose in his mind: her wry wit and gentle teasing, the undercurrent of reticence. He was proud of her for holding her chin up and saying what she wanted. He wanted to press a soft kiss to the dimple that was only half-formed on her cheek. He settled for smoothing her hair back, even though the action seemed to cause a squeeze in his lungs.
‘It would certainly be almost impossible to go back to not… doing this.’
She grasped his hand before he could draw it back. ‘On Monday, my mother and my son will arrive on the island,’ she began. ‘My real life is returning regardless of how we spend the next four days.’
Four days sounded so short, but also unbearably long, if his lungs were going to malfunction the entire time.
‘Are you hinting that you’d like to spend the next four days in bed with me?’
Her laugh – the full, throaty one that gave him tingles to his toes – was exactly the reaction he’d needed from her to reset the balance of the conversation. Then she set off all his nerve endings again by flashing him a smile and saying, ‘Maybe we can fit in some other things as well.’
Now his chest seemed to be expanding and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to survive the rest of this conversation, let alone the next four days.
Taking his face in both hands, she looked him right in the eye, her expression grave. ‘Only if that’s what you want. I know you have your boundaries and your heartbreak.’
‘And you’ll let me be miserable alone with them?’
‘If you tell me to.’
Her gaze dropped from his, so he tipped up her chin, desperate to have it back. ‘It’s not what I want – at least, my misery and solitude will still be there on Monday, when you go. For now, I’d rather kiss you.’
There was a lot he’d do to earn that smile – slow and delighted and tinged with a hint of surprise. If she wanted him to kiss her, he’d gladly do it – and he did, a gentle touch of his lips to hers. The way she studied him when he drew away again made him want to spill all his secrets – even the ones that would make her stop giving him that smile.
Instead, he kissed her again, falling into intimacy as she gripped his hair and invited more. He was still flattened, a little raw by the way the evening had developed, but he couldn’t stop now. Tugging her closer without thought, his elbow caught on his dinner plate and then his water glass toppled, the thud startling them into breaking apart.
Leaping to his feet, he grabbed a cloth and wiped up the mess, noticing she’d barely touched her food.
‘I’m not being a good host,’ he mumbled as he sat down again. Taking up her fork, he skewered a piece of potato, rubbed it in the olive oil on her plate and lifted it to her mouth. ‘Open,’ he prompted.
With a glint in her eye that said,You don’t need to feed me,she nonetheless opened her mouth and allowed him to slip the morsel in.
‘Mmm, my appetite is definitely coming back. Everything from your garden tastes better.’
‘As I said before, it’s also the local olive oil.’
‘As well as the sex,’ she added with a gleam in her eye as she took the fork from him, lingering unnecessarily with her fingers on his.
‘The sex is certainly a factor,’ he agreed, wondering if she could tell how much he meant it. He felt upside down after the explosion of intimacy.
As they washed the dishes, he couldn’t help fixating on the next dilemma they faced: sleeping arrangements. She didn’t say anything, which he understood, as she seemed to be drooping in earnest now.
After drying his hands, he settled them on her shoulders. ‘Go to bed, Toni. I’ll finish up.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course. We’ll need to get up early if you want to go foraging tomorrow. The forecast is very hot.’
She allowed him to nudge her in the direction of the bathroom, but paused in the doorway, glancing back. ‘Will you… join me? In the bedroom?’ Her voice was full of hesitation.
‘If you like.’
Her only response was a nod – not particularly convincing, but if she were feeling any of the trepidation he was, then that nod would have cost her.
When he nudged the bedroom door open fifteen minutes later, after finishing the dishes and brushing his own teeth, his heart pounded, anticipating the unfamiliar intimacy of falling asleep next to another person. Was she still awake? Could he wrap his arms around her and settle her head on his shoulder, the way he’d used to do with Rosalba – before his insomnia had forced her to banish him from their room?
Perhaps he should go back to the sofa, where none of these dilemmas existed – go back to being alone with his misery, where he’d been comfortable for the past five years. But what she’d said resonated with him too: he wouldn’t have an opportunity like this again, to be close to someone he genuinely cared about without the pressure of a future.
