Model Boyfriend

by Stuart Reardon

  He sucked in a breath, catching the faint scent of Anna’s perfume in the bathroom. It was so normal. It helped, but he still felt that prickle of anxiety under his skin.

  When the bath was half full, he poured in a capful of Anna’s favourite bubble bath, and watched the foam rise around the sides of the tub.

  He hated feeling weak, and seeing Anna in a hospital bed had brought back memories, bad memories, of another time when he’d been weak, when he hadn’t been in control.

  How do I handle this? How do I push the fear away?

  Nick jogged down the stairs to tell Anna that her bath was ready. He had to force himself to watch her climb unsteadily to her feet and take the stairs slowly, as if each step was exhausting. He wanted to carry her up the stairs, but the last twenty-four hours had taught him to act casual, to be calm. To be ‘Zen’, as Anna put it.

  It was bloody hard.

  His heartrate slowed minutely as she lay back in the warm water with a sigh, her warm, brown eyes catching his, and she reached out a foamy hand to him.

  “There’s three of us in this tub—think we can fit in a fourth?”

  He grinned at her, his eyes lighting as he stepped out of his clothes in a few seconds and sank into the warm water gratefully.

  Anna scooted forward so he could sit behind her and stretch out his long legs either side of her.

  Her damp hair tickled his chest as she leaned back and closed her eyes.

  “What’s going through your head?” she murmured. “I can hear your thoughts crashing around from here.”

  Where do I start?

  Nick couldn’t sort out one thought from all the noise in his head.

  Anna carried on speaking.

  “They’ll be doing scans every four weeks from now on to make sure everything is okay, and I’ll have antenatal check-ups every two weeks. I’m going to be fine. If I thought telling you to stop worrying would help, I would. But time will tell.” She paused. “You know that there’s a good chance I’ll need a caesarean. It’s not a hundred per cent, but it’s a possibility that we need to prepare for.”

  Nick swallowed, but didn’t voice his fears. He stroked her hair back and leaned forward to kiss her temple.

  Anna smiled.

  “Well, they haven’t decided yet, but if that happens, I’m going to have a hard time lifting the babies after they’re born. I’d like my mom to stay a while. Is that okay?”

  Nick closed his eyes.

  Looking after Anna was his job. He hated that having Anna’s mother take over was necessary.

  “Yes, of course, luv,” he said. “Whatever you want.”

  “Thank you. I’m so glad she’ll be here tomorrow. I can’t wait to see her.” Anna was silent for a moment. “I was scared. Really scared.”

  “I know,” he said his voice low. “So was I. But everything’s going to be fine now.”

  And he hoped that the more he said it, the more he’d believe it.

  NICK HAD TEN days off—ten precious days to celebrate Christmas and enjoy being in London with Anna and his family.

  The doctors had sent her home but advised bed rest, advice that Nick was taking very seriously and refusing to let Anna lift anything heavier than a cup of tea.

  He lay in bed, listening to the central heating as it ticked over early on Christmas morning. He’d been awake for hours, watching Anna sleep, seeing her profile emerge from the fading night.

  She’d been breathing deeply and evenly, and watching her grounded him. Terror of the unknown had made him feel like he was drifting again, untethered, but Anna was his anchor, keeping him safe while the stormy seas of his fears battered him. He breathed with her, one breath at a time, rationalizing his panic into something manageable.

  Instead, he began to tick off the tasks that still needed to be done. They’d already started stockpiling twice as much of everything for the babies via the joys of online shopping, and he’d bought a deluxe baby buggy for two—the Formula One of strollers with extra wide wheels so he could take the twins out for a run with him.

  He’d painted one of the spare bedrooms in neutral colours because Anna had insisted that pre-programming the girls with all things pink was not happening on her watch. Nick didn’t mind—his babies could be anything they wanted to be.

  In the room down the hall, he heard the door open as Anna’s mother padded down the stairs.

  Nick slid quietly out of bed, pulled on sweatpants, socks and a long-sleeved t-shirt and went down to the kitchen to join her in an early morning cup of tea.

  Despite his months in America and France, he still preferred tea first thing in the morning.

  He found Susie fiddling with the coffee machine.

  “Good morning, Nick,” she said brightly. “I hope I didn’t wake you?”

  “No, I’ve been awake for a couple of hours,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.

  She smiled at him sympathetically.

  “My advice to you is to get all the sleep you can now!” and she laughed. “I don’t think Anna slept through the night until she was three.”

  Nick grimaced and Susie patted his hand sympathetically.

  “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s keeping you awake?”

  He pressed his lips together and turned to fill the kettle.

  “I haven’t slept much since she came home from the hospital.”

  Anna’s mother reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

  “Oh, Nick.”

  She fixed herself a cup of coffee and sighed as she sipped at the dark brew.

  “Did Anna tell you that I had pre-eclampsia when I was carrying her?”

  Nick’s eyes widened.

  “No!”

  “It sounds terrifying, and of course if it’s untreated it can be serious, but now Anna is being closely monitored, she’ll be fine.” She glanced at him over her coffee cup. “Coddling her isn’t what she needs right now.”

  He pulled a face.

  “Is that what I’m doing?”

  Susie gave a soft smile.

  “Perhaps just a little. My daughter is a smart cookie. Now she knows she has to slow down and rest completely, she’ll do what she needs to do.” She sipped her coffee. “Have you two decided how you’re going to manage the travelling and living arrangements for the next few months?”

  Nick nodded.

  “Anna mustn’t travel to France—I’ll come back as often as I can and…”

  Susie sighed.

  “I asked if you two have decided.”

  Nick paused.

  “The doctor said she needs bed rest.”

  “Yes, but just for a few weeks until they’ve got her blood pressure under control. Then she can ease back into a gentler version of her life.” She glanced at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “Let Anna set the pace.”

  “Did she say something to you?”

  “I’m simply suggesting that you should discuss it together,” Susie answered diplomatically. “Ask her what she wants, and what she feels she can cope with. Spending time with you in the south of France might be exactly what she needs, away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Just think about it.” She smiled. “Oh, and Nick? Merry Christmas!”

  He grinned at her.

  “Merry Christmas, Susie.”

  Brendan arrived two hours later with a gust of cold air and infectious laugh.

  “The party can start now! Nana-banana, you look beautiful!” and he swept Anna’s mother into a hug, followed by Anna and Nick, then he marched into the living room and dumped a huge pile of gift-wrapped parcels under the little Christmas tree.

  “God, I need sherry!”

  Anna raised her eyebrows from where she was resting on the sofa.

  “Sherry? Really?”

  “It’s retro—I only drink it at Christmas.” He smiled wistfully. “Grég gave it to me—he said it was so English that it reminded him of me.”

  “You could have invited him, Bren,” Anna said gently.
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  Brendan shook his head.

  “No, he’s seeing his family and…” he gave her a hopeful smile. “He’s telling them about me.”

  “Oh wow! That’s great!” Anna clapped her hands. “Wait, are you worried?”

  Brendan shrugged a shoulder.

  “Not really. They know he’s gay and they’re okay with that.” He gave a light laugh. “They’ll probably be more shocked that I’m English.”

  He made himself comfortable and produced a bottle of dry sherry from his shoulder bag, then proceeded to share it with Susie, until they were both giggly.

  Shortly after that, Nick’s parents and sister arrived. It was only the second time that the parents had met, but thankfully everyone got along well, laughing at Brendan’s outrageous antics and his version of the Queen’s annual Christmas address to the nation.

  Nick looked around at his family, everyone he loved in the same room, and felt that sliver of peace expand inside him.

  Later that afternoon, when he’d insisted on carrying Anna up to bed so she could take a nap, he wrapped the duvet around her protectively.

  “Don’t go yet,” she said. “I love having everyone here, but I need a little alone time with you,” and she reached up to massage away the lines of worry from his forehead. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Nick closed his eyes as he stretched out beside her, carefully surrounding her with his large body.

  “I know. It’s just…”

  She stroked his hair, her touch soothing.

  “You have to try not to worry, Nick. We have a lot of weeks to get through yet. You’ll make yourself ill if you carry on like this. The doctors will keep a close eye on me. And I promise I’ll be sensible.”

  That drew a small smile from him.

  “I know, luv. I can’t help it. When I got Brendan’s call…” His voice faltered. “I want to be here with you. I don’t want to go back to Carcassonne. I’ll break my contract and…”

  Anna grasped his hand.

  “Nick, no. You’ve worked so hard and the team is starting to win now. You have a good chance of making it through the Cup Final. I don’t want you to give that up.”

  He propped himself on his elbow to meet her gaze.

  “You and the babies are more important than any game of rugby. I want to be here. I don’t want to make the same mistake again.”

  “Honey, you can’t watch me 24/7.”

  Nick looked as if he wanted to argue.

  “It wouldn’t be good for either one of us,” Anna said gently. “Yes, I’m going to rest as much as the doctors want me to; I’m going to listen to my body because I want to take good care of our babies. But, Nick, I will be going back to work … ssh, let me finish. It won’t be full-time and I’ll take every precaution, but doing nothing isn’t an option. You know me too well to think that it could be.”

  Nick sighed and lay back on the pillow.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Neither of us do. It’s uncharted territory, but we’ll work it out. I have a check-up next week and then the doctor can help us put together a plan that works for both of us, okay?”

  Nick closed his eyes and nodded.

  “Okay.”

  IN THE WEEKS and months that followed, Nick measured time by the progress of the Cuirassiers up the league table, and by the progress of Anna’s growing belly.

  Reluctantly, he’d agreed to go back to France and captain his team, but his heart was still in London. They’d both realised that too much travelling wasn’t going to work for Anna, so this time it was Nick who was spending his days off catching flights. Sometimes Grégoire came with him, staying with Brendan at his flat in Hoxton.

  Anna was pleased to see her friend so happy and crossed her fingers that it wouldn’t end badly. She’d become very fond of Grég, too.

  Nick made as many of Anna’s hospital appointments as he could, and each subsequent scan showed two healthy babies developing at a good rate. The obstetrician had recommended that Anna have a caesarean, and somewhat reluctantly, she’d agreed. The date was 15th April, and Nick felt a measure of relief in knowing exactly when his girls would be born.

  He was with Anna in London when Vogues Hommes International was published, and Nick had to admit that the cover was a great shot. He was wearing a suit, but his shirt was open, showing just a hint of ink, and he was staring right at the camera, focused and intense, his blackened eye obvious.

  “You look hot, dangerously hot … or hotly dangerous,” Brendan insisted, scanning other photographs from the shoot that had been used on an inside spread.

  Then he glanced up at his boyfriend and said something in rapid French that made Grégoire blush.

  “Laurent will be jealous of Capitaine Nick,” he said, in heavily accented English, making them all laugh.

  “It’s pretty cool having a fiancé who’s a model,” Anna teased him. “Although when it comes to getting makeup tips, you’re quite a disappointment.”

  Nick squinted at her with a chagrined look.

  “Yeah, yeah. But I really enjoyed working with Henri. He was a great bloke.”

  He dug the balls of his thumbs into the arches of Anna’s poor, swollen feet, and she groaned appreciatively.

  His dick was equally appreciative but he figured he’d probably better not think that way too much. Anna was very selective about love-making these days, and it was all entirely on her terms. But damn, she was sexy, all round and full of his babies.

  There were only a couple of positions that were comfortable for her, but it all depended on how much her back was aching or how sore her breasts were.

  “Have you thought anymore about what you’re going to do with all those behind-the-scenes photos that you’ve taken?” she asked curiously. “I think the website portfolio is a great idea.”

  Nick nodded slowly. He wasn’t very confident that anyone else would want to see his snaps from Massimo’s studio, Manhattan, Miami and more. But it wasn’t just Anna who had encouraged him—Brendan and Grégoire were also saying that he should display his work. Doing that online seemed the safest bet—not too personal.

  Once again, Nick was locker room fodder for his teammates, but this time, Nick sensed an undercurrent of admiration that amused him. The French players took their designer clothing seriously. And, after all, it was Vogue.

  He was inundated with offers, and even accepted one or two of them. He did a fun and flirty photoshoot with IconEzine, stripping from a dark suit to his briefs, in a series of photographs that gave the publishers one of their best-selling issues to date.

  Finding that he could pick and choose was liberating, and the Cuirassiers were happy to support his growing celebrity for their small club.

  Brendan spent as much time as possible with his boyfriend, more than he did with ‘the old married couple’ as he’d taken to calling Nick and Anna. He promised that he’d be in London with her when Nick couldn’t, but Anna knew that Brendan missed Grégoire horribly when they weren’t together.

  It made her heart happy to see the growing love between them. But time ticked past faster and faster, and the date for her c-section was approaching.

  SUSIE FLEW INTO Heathrow during Anna’s 31st week, and the two women spent the time buying baby clothes and toys, and long afternoons chatting as Anna felt less and less like going out. She was happy to have her mother there, and it gave Brendan a few precious weeks to spend with Grégoire.

  Two days before the c-section was scheduled, Nick arrived home excited and full of energy. Maybe even a little nervous.

  Anna felt too uncomfortable to be scared—she just wanted her babies out.

  They rested on the bed together, Nick stroking her enormous stomach as a wave of heat left Anna feeling hot and sweaty.

  “It’s going to be okay, isn’t it?” she said softly.

  “Yeah, and I’ll talk to Beth and Ruby beforehand so they know the drill,” he teased. Then he leaned down and spoke directly to her stomach.
“No playing around until after the birth—your mum’s nervous.”

  Anna laughed and tugged a lock of his unruly hair.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she said quietly.

  He looked up, his honey-coloured eyes full of love.

  “There’s nowhere else I want to be.”

  On the morning of Anna’s surgery, she lay on the sofa pale and tired, with her swollen feet on a cushion, She’d been uncomfortable for the last few nights and was very ready to birth the babies.

  Nick walked into the room carrying her hospital bag with her overnight toiletries and all the extras that they’d told her to bring.

  “We have plenty of time. I’ll just put the bags in the car.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice dragging in tiredness.

  Nick leaned down to kiss her hair.

  “We’re in this together—me, you and the twins, family.”

  “Then you deliver them,” she said grumpily.

  “I can’t believe how fast it’s gone,” said Nick, shaking his head and ignoring her bad mood. “Today we’ll meet our girls. I’m going be a dad. Me! It’s still not sunk in yet.”

  “Yeah, well you’ve got a couple of hours before it gets very real,” she said huffily, as her stomach rumbled.

  Thankfully, she didn’t even feel hungry, which was just as well since she wasn’t allowed to eat. She could have water up until two hours before the surgery—that was all.

  Just as she was about to ask, Nick brought her a glass of warm water and another antacid tablet, prescribed to reduce stomach acids that could make her feel sick. She chewed it unenthusiastically.

  “How are you feeling now?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Like a walrus!”

  “Aw, no. You’ve hardly got any moustache at all.”

  She glared at him beadily.

  “Not a good day to joke about it,” she said tightly.

  Nick kept his mouth shut. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

  Anna’s mom walked into the room, a slightly hesitant smile on her face.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Oh God, so ready!” Anna groaned, accepting Nick’s help to haul herself off the sofa.