choice of words. ‘Work’s separate,’ Nick said. ‘We both agreed.’
It wasn’t a row, it wasn’t anything she could pin down, yet stupidly she felt like crying, relieved almost when Nick stopped at a corner shop and got out. ‘I need milk.’
And it was a tiny time out, a welcome time out, because by the time he came out of the shop, all gorgeous and yawning, Alison had convinced herself she was tired, that was all, not questioning and jealous, just ratty, premenstrual and coming off a full week of sex and nights.
‘Here.’ He handed her one of two newspapers he had bought, gave her a kiss and then smiled. ‘There’s always a simple solution.’
There just wasn’t to this.
And even if they were talking, even if there hadn’t been a row, things felt different this morning.
Nick had a call from his boss in the UK then another from his mum, both reminding Alison there was a world that was waiting for him to rejoin it, and she was all too aware that next week she’d be back on days, which meant home by midnight, that the slice of freedom she’d carved for them was drawing to a close and it was either lie there and cry or just pretend to be asleep when a long hour later, damp from the shower, his tired body slipped into bed.
‘Alison?’ She heard his voice and didn’t answer, lay with her eyes closed till she didn’t have to pretend any more, didn’t have to pretend that she could do this, but it was a fitful sleep, an uneasy sleep. She woke at two, and looked over at him and he really was exquisite.
Alison didn’t generally prefer blonds—she just preferred Nick.
He must have felt her wake, because he stirred a bit beside her, rolled a little toward her and his legs trapped hers and pulled her in a bit so her face was closer to his chest. She’d been enjoying looking, but now she was enjoying feeling the sleepy body beside hers as she lay awake, exploring the sensation of his long limbs loosely wrapped around hers and the scent of him. There was more than just thought there, because it woke him, this energy, this want that hauled him from slumber, because he slid her up a little till their faces met.
‘Morning.’
‘Morning,’ Alison answered, even if it was mid-afternoon and, better than a kiss, he answered what was still on her mind.
‘Amy was offering me more work.’
‘Overtime?’
‘Extra time,’ Nick said. ‘She was just sounding me out, there’s nothing definite…’
‘Isn’t Cort coming back?’ Alison blinked, curious for other reasons. Cort had taken leave suddenly three months ago, and all the senior staff had been tight-lipped as to why—as Nick was being now.
‘It’s not that.’ He closed his eyes. ‘You can’t say anything.’
‘I wouldn’t.’ But Nick wouldn’t reveal any more. Still, that he was considering staying was what she wanted to hear, but she knew his struggle, because hers was the same. ‘What about Asia?’
‘I can’t do both.’
‘Could you, though?’ Alison asked. ‘Could you take more time off?’
‘They very reluctantly gave me this year.’ It was too much to think about, too much to consider, so he pulled her closer instead and there were forty-seven minutes, give or take, till she had to up and leave, and they both smiled at that pleasurable thought.
Both awake, and even if their minds were racing with new possibilities, their bodies were still pliant and just a little lazy, because they moved in just a little closer, and his legs wrapped around hers a little tighter. The bed was so warm and it felt so nice, and Alison gladly kissed him back, which was so much better than thinking about Asia and careers and sky-high bridges, except the thoughts were in the bed with them too, because it wasn’t fair, Alison thought, as his kiss deepened. It wasn’t bloody fair, his mouth agreed as he pulled her in tighter. A little lazy, a little bit angry, a little bit reckless, or just greedy for a little bit more. When he pulled her even closer, Alison didn’t move back, or away. She could feel his warm, heavy length between her legs, and she wanted him there, and he wanted to be there, because there he stayed a while.
She felt a low tremble in her body as he ran his tip over her moist place, she could feel his kiss deepen even more, feel the tightening of her throat and the flood of desire that bade him on, not consciously, more naturally, just a deepening kiss at both ends of their bodies, and he was just a little way in and her body willed him to go further, beat for him to join her. But sense hauled them back from that dangerous place, Nick rolling over and sheathing himself, Alison dizzy at what they had almost done but grateful for common sense prevailing. Then he was back and, yes, they were both angry, not with the other but at time that wouldn’t pause. With every thrust she counted the days and her hips rose, defiant at the injustice.
She was angry.
And he let her be.
He let her be selfish and taste his mouth and his chest for as long as she wanted, he let her tension rise till she thought she might push him off, because she didn’t know how to feel like this, she didn’t know how far she could go. So he showed her, he pushed her, he waited for her, till she stopped counting the days and berating the past, stopped chasing the future till she was in an empty, silent space that was theirs alone to fill—with her scream and his release, with new sensations, deeper sensations than either had felt before.
And something shifted, something definitely shifted, because a little while later, when the alarm bleeped its warning, for the first time Nick grumbled, pulled her back when she said she had to go. ‘Stay a bit longer,’ Nick said. And she did.
Alison reset the alarm and climbed back in, wondering if in a few weeks he’d do the same for her.
LIKE Louise Haversham’s toothache, sometimes the agony woke her, but for a while, if she didn’t push or probe, Nick’s nearing departure was kept at a niggle, a gnawing in the background. Two months had never seemed long enough. In fact, by the time she’d met him, a week of that had already passed, by the time she’d decided to just go for it, another week, and since then she’d seen Sydney thorough the eyes of a tourist, had been on whale-watching trips and a jet-board ride, though she’d declined his suggestion for a tandem sky dive! With the keys to the flat soon to be hers, they were in the final countdown and it wasn’t just her feeling it, at every turn she was reminded of the fact. But the hint that Cort’s return might be delayed was her ray of hope on the horizon and Alison was determined to let it shine.
‘These are for you!’ David said. ‘For all of you.’ But he smiled especially at Alison as he handed over a large tin of chocolates and he was a different man indeed from the one she had met just a month ago. ‘Rebecca’s here for her outpatient appointment. We just wanted to stop by and thank everyone.’
‘You’re more than welcome.’ Alison jumped down from her stool and accepted the chocolates. It rarely happened, but when patients came back, it was a treat indeed.
‘How’s the arm?’ Alison asked, and she was thrilled to see Rebecca wiggle all her fingers.
‘I’m
