The Last Word

by A. L. Michael

  He looked so vulnerable and his voice was so gentle she had to hold herself back from throwing her arms around him. Instead Tabby smiled shyly and held up the bag. ‘I went to get supplies.’

  ‘For?’

  ‘Many things. The first one being pancakes! Get dressed!’

  ‘Pancakes! I can’t remember the last time I had pancakes.’

  ‘Harry, that may be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,’ Tabby called from the kitchen. ‘Prepare yourself for unreal levels of fun. Now you’re learning from the master!’

  She was not thinking about Harry shirtless. She was not blushing or avoiding looking at Harry shirtless. She had not walked out of the living room and into the kitchen a little too quickly. She put her hand to her cheeks and told herself to get a grip.

  Tabby located mixing bowls and measuring implements with surprising ease, and when she looked above the fridge she found a stack of well-thumbed cookbooks arranged haphazardly.

  Harry reappeared, fully clothed and slightly damp. He was barefoot, wearing baggy jeans with a hole in the knee and a fitted T-shirt, with another hoodie. They sort of matched, she noticed with interest.

  ‘Harry,’ she grinned, ‘are you a foodie?’

  ‘I…dabble.’

  ‘You have three mixing bowls! Three!’

  ‘I like baking! Doesn’t every woman want a man who cooks?’ He put his arms around her as she started folding a batter in the largest mixing bowl.

  ‘Trust you to cultivate a hobby to get you laid,’ she said.

  His lips brushed her neck and she shivered.

  ‘I’m not going to be able to cook like this,’ she said lightly and he stepped away. She handed him the whisk. ‘Get to work.’

  ‘I thought you were making me pancakes?’

  ‘And I thought you were trying to be the ideal man who cooked?’

  After a painfully domestic breakfast at the kitchen table, where they ate pancakes and drank the orange juice Tabby had bought and the fresh coffee Harry brewed in his fancy machine, and Tabby spent a lot of energy not thinking about this being a regular weekend waking up to Harry and eating pancakes, they decided to watch a film.

  Harry grabbed a blanket from the foot of his bed and dumped it on the sofa next to Tabby. He selected a surprise movie, raving that she would love it, she should trust him, and Tabby settled down for what she imagined would either be a painful documentary, a foreign film, or something that she would probably understand on a normal day, but was too slow to comprehend in her current state. Well, that or Die Hard.

  Harry returned to the sofa, sat down close and picked up her legs to rest them over his lap, before arranging the blanket over them both. Then he grinned to show her he understood how to relax. She rolled her eyes and focused on the screen, cuddling up to him nonetheless.

  ‘His Girl Friday? Seriously? You like this movie?’

  Harry looked at her seriously over the rims of a pair of glasses that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. This pair were a lot less pretentious that his office pair. They seemed to achieve exactly what his smart hipster glasses didn’t: they told her he was vulnerable and bookish and all the other things a simple pair of wire frames pretend to tell you. She thought he might have even become more gorgeous as he pouted.

  ‘I don’t like this movie. I love this movie.’

  He waited for her to challenge him, tapping out a rhythm on her leg, but she just smiled up at him.

  ‘So you’re Walter, are you?’

  ‘What guy doesn’t want to be Cary Grant?’

  ‘Wonderful in a loathsome sort of way, I see it, I really do.’ She poked him in the ribs and shuffled closer.

  ‘You’re telling me you don’t identify with Hildy?’ Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘The smart mouth, the ambition, fierce determination?’

  ‘Aw, Harry, are you saying I’m you’re Girl Friday? I’m touched!’

  ‘More like Girl, Interrupted, but I’ll take what I can get.’

  Tabby stuck her tongue out, enjoying herself way too much, and settled back to watch one of her favourite movies.

  It was about halfway through the movie that Tabby noticed the atmosphere had changed. She couldn’t seem to keep up with the fast-paced dialogue, as Harry was tracing gentle circles on her wrist. The constant motion seemed to be affecting her. Her breathing got shallow and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her.

  All her senses seemed to be on alert, and she knew this was the moment. She could get up, turn away and run, make some terrible excuse and break the moment, or she could take a chance. There seemed to be less air, and she shuffled a little before tracing her own circles on his jeans.

  She carried on looking at the screen, leaning her head against his shoulder. She could feel Harry looking down at her, and knew all she had to do was look up, and it would start. She would be completely at his mercy. But as she felt her breathing get shallow, she knew it would be so good.

  Her body craved him, wanted to turn and bury herself in him, wrap herself around him until she was as close as she could possibly be. He smelled like shower gel and clean shirts and something else that was quintessentially Harry.

  ‘Tabs.’ Harry tucked a strand of hair behind her ear deliberately, stroking the side of her neck. She shifted, closed her eyes and pushed her face into his neck so she wouldn’t see him ask her. ‘If this isn’t…’

  Oh, fuck it. She reached for him.

  ‘It is.’

  Harry didn’t need any more encouragement. The kisses, this time, were desperate, hungry. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her in close against him, his tongue teasing her lips. She tugged on his hair, letting little sighs escape her.

  ‘You’re sure?’ Harry pulled back, and she opened her eyes, faced with his bright green ones, inches from her face. He was flushed, breathing heavily, and still pulled her closer even as he waited for her permission. She took off his glasses and carefully placed them on the side table. One hand trailed up her thigh, and she kept eye contact with him, enjoying how delicious it was to be frozen right at this moment, right before everything happened. And she wasn’t afraid any more.

  ‘Tell me you want me,’ she demanded, and didn’t care what he thought, because she knew what his response would be.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ He laughed against her lips as he hands reached under her dress, and stroked the exposed skin of her back. Why was she wearing so many layers? Stupid leggings. ‘You’ve been driving me crazy.’

  She slipped his hoodie from his shoulders, stroking up and down his arms. She wanted every part of him touching every part of her.

  ‘Are you saying I’m a tease?’ She grinned up at him.

  Harry kissed her again, then grabbed her bum and lifted her so she was straddling him on the sofa. He smirked. Look number forty-two: winning a bet. She kissed his neck, up to his lips, grinding against him, the hardness beneath her only making the throbbing worse. She needed him.

  ‘What I’m saying, darling,’ Harry bit her neck gently while unzipping her dress, ‘is that I think we should put the banter on hold so I can fuck your brains out.’

  The dress fell about her waist and she slipped her arms out, running her fingers through his hair as he mouthed her breasts through her bra. She didn’t even notice him reach round and unhook it. Chandra’s comment that Harry looked like a guy who knew what to do suddenly resurfaced.

  And then he sucked on her nipples, biting gently, tracing the lines of her body with his hands until she felt him everywhere, and she couldn’t think at all.

  Harry pulled back to look up at her. ‘Cheshire cat.’

  ‘No talking, remember?’ she said breathlessly, tugging at his T-shirt, helping him to pull it off so she could kiss him again, pressing her breasts up against his warm chest. He wrapped his arms around her, skin on skin, until she felt like she was drowning.

  She ground down against him, swivelling circles with her hips until he dug his fingers into her skin. She was start
ing to wonder how much more she could bear.

  ‘Please,’ she whimpered against his lips.

  ‘One sec,’ he whispered back, kissing her neck, before gently pushing her off and striding to the bedroom. Tabby took the time to quickly strip off her socks and leggings, although she kept her dress around her waist.

  Harry returned holding a condom, and she watched with fascination as he unbuttoned his jeans, sat down on the sofa again, and put the condom on. Tabby stared at him, naked, and felt that pulsing between her legs again.

  ‘C’mere.’ Harry grinned and pulled her towards him until she was straddling once again. Except he wouldn’t let her sit yet.

  ‘N’uh, not so fast,’ he whispered, meeting her eyes as he traced his tongue around her nipple, and she felt his fingers in between her legs. He traced the lace edges of her underwear, stroking in long deliberate strokes that were too brief. Tabby shook with desperation.

  ‘Harry, please…’ she bit his ear gently, ‘I need…’

  And just as suddenly he’d slipped his fingers inside her knickers, feeling her wetness with his thumb, and stroking her in circles. She ground into his hand and felt like she might go insane. His fingers moved faster and faster, slipping wetly in and out of her while she bit his shoulder.

  ‘Harry…’ she muffled her desperation into his neck, ‘please…’

  He captured her mouth with his so she couldn’t make any more demands, but stilled his fingers, pulling her underwear to one side and guiding himself into her, excruciatingly slowly.

  ‘Oh God.’ Tabby bit his neck. ‘Oh.’

  He started pumping slowly, filling her until she couldn’t help but grind back and forth as quick and hard as possible, suddenly racing for orgasm as he dug his fingers into her hips to move her faster. Everything was getting tighter and faster and she could feel the throbbing increasing until she heard herself gasp, feel as he contracted inside her. Tabby felt dizzy, like she’d fallen off a cliff but landed straight back where she was.

  Harry didn’t stop straight away, but slowed still moving deliciously, and she leaned her forehead against his. There was no air. There weren’t quite stars, but the fuzzy delirium that took over was completely welcome. She grinned.

  ‘Woah.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, trailing his fingers up and down her back. ‘Woah.’

  She stroked his cheek and looked at him nervously.

  He frowned, and said softly, ‘Hey, what’s that look for? You’re not embarrassed?’

  Tabby didn’t need to blush, as her cheeks were already red from the orgasm. Instead she spent a few seconds looking at him, taking in how beautiful he was. Then she clenched around him, still inside her, and grinned at his reaction.

  ‘I’m not embarrassed,’ she smiled, tracing circles on his chest. ‘I just should have told you that I have kind of an addictive personality.’

  ‘Which means…?’ Harry seemed kind of dopey, and Tabby couldn’t understand how his look of incomprehension could seem so sweet after how skilfully he’d just manipulated her body.

  ‘Well, I spent all night in your bed, Harry, and you didn’t make a move. I think you’re going to have to pay for that.’

  Harry grinned and kissed her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Tabby walked into her living room on Sunday afternoon, her two best friends to looked up from their Chinese food, Chandra raised an eyebrow, Rhi rolled her eyes, and without looking away from Tabby, Rhi passed Chandra twenty quid.

  ‘Oh, very funny.’ Tabby pouted and collapsed onto the other sofa.

  ‘You were gone for the weekend, Tabs,’ Rhi said in a fake stern voice. ‘We were very worried. You could have been off being molested by strange men who wear expensive cologne and drink posh wine. We almost called the police.’

  Chandra grinned. ‘Luckily I reminded her that it was probably you doing the molesting.’

  ‘Cheers. How much longer do I have to put up with this?’ Tabby crossed her arms, slunk down against the back of the sofa and looked every bit the petulant teenager. And then she remembered a detail from the last two days, whether it was Harry cooking her dinner, or laying next to him on the sofa, or almost passing out from orgasms.

  ‘Stop smiling like that, you harlot.’ Chandra couldn’t stop grinning at her friend.

  Tabby took a deep breath. ‘Go on then, say it.’

  Rhi and Chandra exchanged a look.

  ‘Together?’ Rhi asked.

  ‘On three,’ Chandra replied.

  ‘One…two…three…TOLD YOU SO!’ They collapsed into giggles, and Tabby supposed that as long as they were united, it didn’t matter that it was against her.

  ‘Fine! Yes! I slept with him! I had sex! Lots of sex! And it was good! Fantastically good! You were right! And the only reason I came home was because I needed clean clothes and to actually sleep, because sleeping next to someone you want to jump all the time is really difficult!’ Tabby was pacing back and forth by this point, her hand gestures getting more and more pronounced.

  Rhi reached for her bottle of beer. ‘You’re not actually going to turn this into something negative right now, are you? Because I’m bored of you taking good things and corrupting them with a shitty attitude. You had good sex. Bask, Afterglow Girl.’

  Tabby stopped and grinned shyly. ‘I am basking. I am completely basking. And I’m being very careful to keep it casual. Because that’s where I went wrong last time.’

  Chandra held up her glass of wine thoughtfully. ‘I thought last time it went wrong because it was casual, and you thought it was serious?’

  Tabby shrugged and frowned. ‘Then clearly I have more self-knowledge. It’s going to be a fling, I’m not going to get emotionally involved, and at the end of the contract, we’ll see.’

  Rhi frowned again. ‘You’re already looking for an escape plan? What did he do, propose?’

  ‘No, I just…want to be in control. And he makes me feel out of control.’

  Chandra smiled softly. ‘I would give anything to feel out of control, instead of acting interested in these corporate types with no personality.’

  ‘Then do,’ Rhi said blandly. ‘Go date a skydiver or something.’

  ‘We all have our reasons for things, Rhi, which is why you haven’t dated since Melanie stomped all over you in her muddy Dr Martins.’

  Rhi looked down, and Tabby saw her friend’s cheeks redden. ‘I’m just not ready…’

  ‘I know.’ Chandra patted Rhi’s shoulder as she left the room with their empty plates, and returned with the bottle of wine and another glass for Tabby.

  Tabby watched her friends interact, and realised there must have been some serious bonding over the weekend. If Rhi had spoken about Melanie and Chandra was admitting she was unfulfilled, well, something had shifted. And she’d missed it.

  Tabby took a second to feel guilty about this, until an image of Harry’s ‘I know that I’ve got you’ grin appeared in her head, and she really wasn’t capable of regretting anything.

  ‘You look happy.’ Rhi smiled and reached over to squeeze Tabby’s hand.

  ‘I think I am. And I’m not going to overanalyse it, in case I make it go away.’ Tabby sipped at her rosé and sighed comfortably. ‘So, movie?’

  ‘We were thinking Teen Revival, but we can’t decide between 80s or 90s.’

  ‘Choices?’ Tabby stretched and grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa.

  ‘I’m voting for Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,’ Rhi said pointedly, staring at Chandra. ‘Possibly even Say Anything as Chands gets all dreamy over John Cusack.’

  ‘He stood up to her crazy father in that movie! Putting up with family shit is important!’ Chandra argued.

  ‘And your contenders?’ Tabby realised that maybe not that much had changed after all.

  ‘Ten Things I Hate About You, She’s All That and Clueless.’

  Rhi rolled her eyes. Chandra huffed. Both looked to Tabby, who pretended to take a lon
g time to choose a side, when they both knew she was going to find a compromise.

  ‘I propose a cutting school double bill: Ferris Bueller and Ten Things. Possibly followed by The Breakfast Club in order to show the terrible consequences of cutting school. Agreed?’

  Both her friends looked at her with admiration.

  ‘You are a wise sage, a newly enlightened female of the twenty-first century,’ Chandra said dramatically.

  ‘You should have sex more often.’ Rhi grinned, and started rolling a cigarette. ‘Now for the difficult question: who’s going to get up and put the video in?’

  ‘So,’ Tabby started experimentally, many hours later, after they finished the wine, three joints and a packet of HobNob biscuits, ‘if it’s just a casual thing, I probably shouldn’t invite him round here?’

  ‘Your room, your rules.’ Rhi shrugged.

  ‘No, I mean…if I invited him to a Nothing Day or something, would that be OK?’

  Rhi shrugged and nodded her head towards Chandra. ‘Ask the Queen of Casual over here.’

  Chandra looked up tiredly. ‘I don’t do…that. I date them, decide if I want to sleep with them, and then I sleep with them. And then I’m done. I don’t…hang out.’

  ‘Why do you want to invite him?’ Rhi asked.

  ‘I like spending time with him, he’s fun. And, well, I don’t think he has many friends, and I think he’d enjoy it. And I think you’d actually like him if I tell him to leave the media pretension at the door. He doesn’t know how to relax, and, I guess I think we’re fun.’

  ‘We are fun.’ Chandra yawned. ‘Pass the biscuits.’

  ‘So…?’ Tabby said nervously.

  ‘Are you asking if it’s OK to bring him, or are you asking if it’s OK that you want to bring him? Because those are two different questions and both make my head hurt,’ Rhi said.

  ‘So…fuck it?’ Tabby asked.

  ‘Fuck it.’

  ‘Fuck it.’

  ‘Good, that’s good.’ Tabby smiled, and fell asleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘So…we’re doing nothing?’ Harry looked rather lost on her sofa, surrounded by cushions and blankets, clutching the bottle of beer she’d handed him. She thought back to the last time he was in her house, in control and lounging over everything. Now he seemed different. Not nervous, exactly, but softer somehow, in his jeans and checked shirt, pink Converse at her request. He’d left off shaving for a few extra days, and there was less gel in his hair. Harry was still beautiful, he still made her stomach twitch when he looked at her, but he was a lot less intimidating when he wasn’t trying to be so impressive. Like he could have been any one of those beautiful indie boys she’d fawned over at university but never talked to.