But tonight only wrong was right.
He wanted her and she knew it. And she also knew he was the one in control. She let him puppet her and loved it when he lifted and twisted her, and lay her back down on the couch, coming to rest heavily over her.
Now he explored her body, pushing silk aside to smell and kiss and lick, to bite her hot skin. He made her breath catch repeatedly, he made her squirm and buck and scratch. The whole time he was conscious of watching himself as though he needed to give himself a score for best performance in making a naked woman scream.
Her hands were under his shirt, nails against the ridge of his back, one leg folded over his hip, the other hooked up so her foot was against the back of his thigh. She wanted him captured and held. She wanted to make it difficult for him to escape. All it made him feel was curiously detached.
“Aiden, please.”
Now her eyes were popped wide, her lips ripe, washed red and glistening. She thrashed and couldn’t still, and yet he’d done nothing except touch her, almost clinically, like she was a cause and effect experiment. Thumb her nipple and watch her push into his hand, bite her lip and feel her slam against his hips.
Was she enjoying this, or was it torture? Too many senses stimulated and no sign of ease. He sat back suddenly and she reached for him, interpreting it as a sign he was repositioning himself, stripping his own clothes off. When she realised he was retreating, she followed him upright, claiming his lap again.
“What’s wrong?” She pressed one hand against his cheek, her eyes flicking over his face as if she was looking for an injury, a reason for him to pull away. She must have found it.
“You don’t want me.”
The responses were easy in his head. He had to force his voice to work. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”
“I want you to touch me. I want you to love me.” She pressed her lips to his, but he gave her stone and she pulled away. It was an answer she didn’t want. She tried again, dragging his hand to her heart, licking her tongue across his lips, trying to pull his strings to get the response she wanted.
The only way he could punish himself was to hurt her. “I don’t love you, Willow. You’re beautiful and sweet, but I can’t give you what you want. I can’t ever give you what you want.”
She flinched and her body lost heat quickly, her skin growing cold under his palms. She couldn’t hide her hurt, but she was more resilient that he expected.
“I don’t need forever. But I want now. You can give me now.”
He was suddenly outrageously tired. Every limb was heavy and throbbing with it. “You’ll find someone who deserves you.” It was an empty comment, lame and flippantly easy at the same time. It was the best he had.
You think I’m waiting for perfect. For the prince on a white horse. I know he doesn’t exist. I’ll take second best from you.”
Her fierceness was a surprise. He didn’t expect her to be a warrior. He’d figured on tears, on a tantrum, on getting smacked and shouted at and thrown out. What he deserved. They’d rebalance things between them. He didn’t know where this steely resolve, this plain-eyed realism had been hiding in her. Though possibly he’d chosen not to see it, and it’d been there all along in her willingness to let him set the terms for their relationship.
“That’s all it can be.”
“So love me second best.”
Second best was a life. Willow could be a life. The problem was Willow wasn’t second best, and she could never compete with the woman who was, but since he couldn’t have Bailey either perhaps this was what he needed.
But not tonight.
He dragged a cotton throw from the back of the couch and wrapped it around Willow’s back, pulling her against his chest and letting her find comfort in his arms. They sat there for some time. When she kissed him next, she wasn’t looking for a response, she was ready to be rejected, for this to be goodbye. “You’re worn out. Stay. Just to sleep. I’ll worry about you driving.”
That was his signal to move. “I’ll go.” He should’ve said goodbye. He should’ve said how sorry he was, but the only words he had were ready platitudes, devoid of any truth or meaning.
Wrapped in the throw, she saw him to the door. Dry eyed and resolved. Far more than he deserved. He’d come to her to be lost. He’d known his intentions were warped, and she’d saved him from himself anyway.
39: Lonely Boy
Olivia had a platter of smoked salmon on tiny pancakes in her hand. “That’s Chris with Bailey, when did he show up? And Aiden brought Willow.” She frowned at Blake, because of course it was his fault. “You said Aiden and Bailey were, you know?”
Blake took the platter out of her hand and deposited it on the ping pong table with the rest of the catered food they’d brought in to celebrate the Bitters’ win. He wrapped both arms around Olivia and rocked her to a blast of Maroon 5’s One More Night, from someone’s iPod plugged in the stereo.
“About that.”
“Don’t say you were wrong? Something about glitter and looking deeply into each other’s eyes, if I remember.”
“It might appear that I was wrong, but I’m not admitting defeat yet.”
“Brave, they both have other partners.”
“Yeah, as if that’s ever stopped anyone.”
He got an hard elbow in the gut for that. “It’d better stop you.” He went, “Ofph!” and knew he’d eaten one too many smoked salmon thingys on a pancake. He put his face down against Liv’s neck and let her satin skin muffle his words. “Forever and ever. Amen.”
“So tell me about Chris.”
“Nothing to tell. I had no idea he was back. I got the impression Bailey was just as surprised.”
“We can’t have that. I’ll investigate and report back.”
He grinned and released her, watched her scoot across the room, with a word here or there to Heedonists she knew. He watched Olivia chat to Chris, and then to Bailey. And as he was talking to Dom, Olivia excused herself and went to Kathryn and Roberta. Then she moved on to Aiden and Willow, where she laughed about something, and frowned about something, and then as Dom moved off, she was back, bringing him a fresh beer.
“You work fast. I’m impressed.”
“You should be.”
“So what did you learn?”
“Nothing.”
He groaned into the neck of his beer. “Ah Livy, don’t say that. I’m starting to hate being told that.”
“Poor, Bear.” She snuggled herself under his arm. “Ok, here’s the gos. Chris got back two days ago and surprised Bailey, so you were right about that. She had no idea he was coming back. He’s staying with her.”
“Are they, you know, together?”
Olivia considered, tapping the beat of The Black Keys’ Lonely Boy on his ribs. “Hard to tell. He certainly thinks so. She was vague about it.”
“Bailey’s never vague.”
The Black Keys sang about a love that keeps you waiting and Olivia flicked over his ribs in a sexy air guitar move. “That’s what I thought.”
He stilled her hand, took it in his. She was making him want to go home. “Walk with me over to the windows. If Monique corners me about that charity sponsorship one more time this week I might have to get good and drunk.”
“Are you going to do whatever she wants?”
“Probably, but I’d rather not have to talk about it again. Go on.”
“So Roberta—”
“Not about Roberta. God woman, you do this deliberately. Tell me about Aiden.”
“He doesn’t love Willow. He loves Bailey.”
They’d reached the window now. Blake settled Liv in front of him, wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “You got this from a ten minute cruise around the room?
She twisted around to look at him. “I’m that good.”
“Alright what’s your evidence?”
“Look at him.”
From wh
ere they were, they had a good view of the whole room. “I’m looking. He’s standing there with Willow’s arm around his frigging hips.”
“Yeah, but where are his arms and more importantly where is he looking?”
“At bloody Bailey.” Aiden was positively glaring across the room at Bailey and Chris, watching them as though he was wearing binoculars instead of contacts.
“You catch on quick, husband.”
“Yeah, alright smarty pants, now what?”
“I don’t know I only report the news. I don’t predict the future.”
Blake sighed and gave Olivia a squeeze. “She’s perfect for him you know.” He knew this was tricky for her. Everything Aiden did reminded her of Shannon.
“She’s very different from Shannon. I guess that’s a good thing.”
“It’s the best thing. Anything happen to you, and no Scarlett, and no Bailey, I’m going for Roberta.”
“You do know she prefers girls?” Olivia said archly.
“Oh really?” He looked about for Roberta, found her trying to get Dom to dance. “News to me.”
“So it’s all about Bailey and Chris. If she takes him back, Aiden’s out in the cold.”
“He’s hardly out in the cold, he has the delectable Willow. Who I realise is much smarter than she looks.”
“My husband the chauvinist pig. I could have told you that. Aiden has Willow the same way as he has contacts. Disposable.”
“Harsh much.”
“Thank you, Yoda. If Bailey stays with Chris I can see Aiden flip flopping from one temporary relationship to another. It’s too sad. He’s been a fighter all his life. Made himself from nothing with such a bad start. Why doesn’t he fight for her?”
Blake spun Olivia around to face him. “Listen to you.”
“Well you fought for me.” She sounded fierce, but she kissed him soft, soft, fantastic. He closed his eyes, oh take me home. She said, “Bailey deserves that.”
He ran his hands down her arms to her hands. “He’s not going to fight for her, Chook. He doesn’t have any fight left over. He thinks he’s no good for her. Doesn’t think he’s together enough, thinks he’d hurt her.” Good idea on taking her hands, because she went to pull away.
“You knew all that and you didn’t tell me.” She reclaimed her hands and turned her back to him. “You are so not getting any tonight.”
God, she’d better be joking. “I kinda forgot. It’s been a little stressful around here. And Bailey hasn’t totally forgiven me. We don’t know if she’s going to come on board or not.”
Olivia went, “Humpf.” She was totally on Bailey’s side anyway. Maybe he wouldn’t be getting any. He could try for contrite and repentant. He and Bailey had several dispassionate discussions about the whole thing, and he’d admitted his errors, and what he owed of his success to her support. He might’ve been wilfully blind, but he wasn’t specialising in stupidity, those days were over.
“I’m really trying, Liv. I’m not going to screw it up with her again.”
That was contrite, repentant and true and hey it worked. She turned again. “I forgive you because I love you.” She kissed him, but not soft, a swift, unlovely, tight peck. She said, “But you’re still not getting any,” and he was back in the lonely boy zone.
●
From across the room, Bailey watched Blake and Olivia. They’d been married more than a decade. They looked as much in love as when they’d first met. Could that be her and Chris? Did they have that in them?
He was telling some story about Kilimanjaro which she’d already heard. He kept glancing at her to see if she was ok. He’d almost cried when he realised she was limping again. That was a head spin. He was head spin. Showing up like that. No warning. Not a hint. She didn’t know whether to be grateful he was back and wanted to slot himself into her life, or pissed off.
Sure, there’d been regular postcards and emails and Facebook updates, but no letters of undying love, and the odd catch up phone call was full of amazing ‘wish you were here’ stories. There’d been no mention of ‘can’t live without you’. And the communications was all one way. On her part, total radio silence, except for the morning photo.
She wasn’t sure she loved Chris anymore. And that’s why he was on the couch, and fortunately he didn’t seem to expect anything more, though he did reclaim his dressing gown.
He finished his story and extracted himself from the group, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her, the mirror pose to Blake and Olivia. She felt uncomfortable about it. It was too quick, too much, too confusing, but she left his arms around her, not knowing how to untangle without causing a fuss.
“Bails, see that man over by the food with the very cute blonde?”
“That’s Aiden and Willow.” Aiden looked to be watching the dance floor. Willow was definitely watching Aiden.
“He came to the house.”
“My house? When?”
“The night I got back. You were on the table with Doug. I forgot to mention it. Blame the jetlag, sorry.”
“What did he want?” So much had happened this week, she was struggling to remember what happened that day to bring Aiden unexpectedly to her front door. Ah, that was the job offer day. The day of the big dust up with Blake. How could she forget that?
“He said it wasn’t important, that he’d see you at work. You seem surprised.”
Surprised didn’t cover it. “It’s not like him to drop over.”
“He was ringing wet as well.”
Bailey pushed Chris’ hands off her. “He never mentioned it. What did you say to him?” She could feel her face getting hot. No wonder Aiden had been more distant than ever this week.
Chris spun her around to face him, genuine distress on his face. “Sorry baby. Have a dance with me, then you can go talk to him and I won’t feel so jealous.”
There wasn’t going to be any dancing. He’d seen the limp, what was he thinking? Aside from that Chris had no right to be jealous of anyone, and nothing to be jealous of. It’s not like this thing with Aiden was going to go anywhere. “He has a girlfriend.”
“I’ll come with you.” He was trying to be funny, insinuating he wanted to meet Willow.
“You want to stay on the couch?”
He grabbed her hand and fixed his eyes on hers. “No. More than anything I want to be in your bed with you, and I’m bloody lucky you don’t have another guy already in it.”
Geez, it was a good thing the music was loud. He was deadly earnest. Stooshe was singing Love Me, and half the office was dancing, including Blake and Olivia. In a weird way it made her proud. Four months ago, there wouldn’t have been any dancing and Friday night drinks were a hit and miss affair that few people bothered to hang around for. Now they brought an odd assortment of partners and friends—Evan had brought his Mum—and kicked on. A lot of that was to do with Aiden and some of it with her own work.
“Look Bails, I know this is sudden and I arrived out of nowhere, and I still expect you to kick me out on my butt. But I want to try again, and I promise you I won’t be so selfish.”
Chris was getting to her with his big brown eyes and his sincerity. She put her hand to his face. “You were never selfish.”
“Yeah I was. I tried to act like a saint, and in the end the devil got me. I resented you for not being well, and that was crazy stupid. I screwed up badly, and I want to make it up to you. I’m prepared for that to take as long as you need for me to prove myself again. The longer I was away, the more I missed you. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I know that’s like Swahili to you, so we’ll take it slow, ok?”
Slow, she could do slow. Slow might give her time to work out how she felt about him, to forgive him, to trust him. There was room to move with slow. And in the meantime, she didn’t need to kick him out; he could buy a bed for the spare room.
“Dance with me, Bailey.” Chris’ eyes were twinkling. He was already moving his feet. He had both her hands in his. She used to love d
ancing with him, but it had been so long, could you forget how to do it? She shook her head. She felt too old and awkward to dance, too insecure and scared of tripping, slipping, making a fool of herself, hurting herself.
“I won’t let you go.”
So, he could still read her mind, and he certainly hadn’t stopped being very cute in the year they’d been apart. “Doug said it’s only muscular, some residual nerve damage still to heal. There’s nothing structurally wrong. He said you went back to work too soon and you spend too much time at your desk. There is no reason why you can’t lose the limp in time. You used to love to dance. I’ll hold you. I won’t let you fall. Come on, baby, please.”
Doug was right, it would probably be good for her to dance. He was in favour of movement of any sort, but she couldn’t pick the song, and the absolute best she could do was something slow. Slow felt safe. Chris knew the song though, he was edging her gently into a sway, keeping her hands in his. He sang the lyrics, about getting your ass back home, grinning at her as if it was the perfect song for them, all about leaving keys under mats and having one last chance to be together.
She recognised the song as Gym Class Heroes and yeah she was dancing. She wasn’t going to win any prizes for slick moves, but cool—her body did remember what to do. She let go Chris’ hands and attempted something more than a side step. He came in close and kissed her cheek. He’d been so respectful, so gentle with her physically, waiting for her to give him a cue.
She had missed him. She had missed this, feeling cared for, feeling young, not being alone. When he moved close again, she whispered in his ear, “I’m glad you’re back.”
He took her by the waist in a fit of exuberance and swung her around, making her shriek with the suddenness of it. Now she faced Blake and Olivia, and as the song changed, Blake cut in. He said, “Chris, you have to share,” and Chris came back with, “Then so do you,” as he took Olivia in his arms and dipped her while Nicki Minaj sang about starships.
White Balance Page 27
