‘Maybe,’ I shrugged. ‘But this feels so intense. What if we burn ourselves out?’
‘Burn ourselves out?’ He screwed up his nose. ‘What kind of nonsense is that?’
‘Yeah, what if the fire goes out and we can’t see what we saw in each other any more?’
Daniel snorted.
‘Well, that’s what happens.’
‘Weren’t we talking about this the other day? The need to have sex constantly may diminish over time, but other feelings deepen.’
‘Or not.’
Daniel sighed. ‘There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there? Besides, I really like you, Elena. This isn’t just about sex. I like being with you. You make me feel good. I love the way your eyes light up when you smile. I love the way the light falls on your hair and the way you blush when you’re embarrassed. I love that you’re a bit clumsy. And I love the fact that you still have a box of random crap you collected from me years ago. Ha, see, you’re blushing again.’
‘See, that’s what worries me. You know I’m a complete fool for you. I keep thinking – and I’m aware this isn’t very fair when you’ve been so sweet – but I keep thinking, what if this isn’t real?’
Daniel frowned at me. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Elena. How could it not be real?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe I placed you on such a high pedestal back then that I just don’t feel good enough for you now.’
He stared at me for a moment. ‘Come with me,’ he said, holding out his hand to me. I took it and he led me towards his bedroom. Opening the door, he ushered me in and turned me towards a painting on the wall, his hands on my shoulders. It was abstract. Thick black brush strokes on white canvas, swirling burgundy, long flowing lines. ‘You see that? I submitted that for my final piece of A-level art coursework. I don’t expect you to know what it is because that was the whole point. I got an A.’
I tilted my head to one side. ‘I thought you failed your A-levels.’
‘No. Well, I got a crap mark for English. I was too busy staring at you.’
‘That’s rubbish. If you had been staring, I’d have been staring right back.’
‘You were, Elena. Don’t you remember?’ He stepped closer and his breath scorched my neck. His hands crept around my waist and I closed my eyes, leaning back into him. Could that be right? Did I remember? My stomach lurched as a memory surfaced of him sitting in English, his long hair tied back, tapping a pen against his lip and just staring at me. I remembered the teacher’s voice in the background, as though it were coming from a long, long way away. Over the years, the memory had faded, cast into shadow by the Prom Kiss. ‘You always looked so beautiful, with your long black hair and your big brown eyes. And you were so intelligent, answering all those questions about Pride and fucking Prejudice when I didn’t have a clue what was going on. And you played the cello in the orchestra. You were like – oh my God – you were like some kind of goddess. I was completely in awe of you.’ He turned me round, slowly, to face him. ‘I still am in awe of you.’
I was silent for a moment, lost in memories of that painful time of yearning and fear and hope and desire.
‘So, why didn’t you ask me out? You had so many different girlfriends. I kept waiting, and waiting, and then in the end I just thought you were taking the piss because you knew I fancied you. When you kissed me at the prom, it was the best moment of my life. Why did you wait until then?’
‘Because I was terrified of being rejected by you. Plus, Rachel guarded you like a Rottweiler. Then at the prom, I knew I was going away the next day, and I just thought, fuck it, I’ve got nothing to lose by asking you to dance. I didn’t expect to kiss you. But then, when I held you, you felt like mine, and you were so willing… gah… I don’t mean that how it sounds, but I was just so frustrated when I realised I might have had a chance with you all along and had wasted so much time.’
‘But you went away.’
‘Of course I went away. It was all arranged. My parents went with me for the first bit. They’d got me this job at a French chateau. People were relying on me. Besides, if I’d stayed, you’d still have gone to university, wouldn’t you?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘You still feel like mine,’ he said, tightening his arms around my waist.
‘That’s because I am.’
He pressed his face into my neck and kissed my throat.
‘I still don’t understand the significance of the painting though,’ I murmured.
His kisses were getting hotter, his hands moving towards my breasts.
‘Hmm?’ He glanced up, ‘Oh, well, that’s you, see? The red’s the cello.’ I turned to look and he stepped forward and pointed up at it. ‘Your hair. Your body. The cello. I did something else first but my tutor wouldn’t accept it. He said it objectified you.’ He grinned sheepishly.
‘Objectified me? What the hell did you do?’
He looked nervous for a second, then, rubbing his hands on the back of his T-shirt, he walked around the bed to his wardrobe and pulled a large square canvas out from behind. He checked it first and winced. ‘Don’t hate me, okay?’ He breathed in and then turned it to face me in one fluid movement.
My breath hitched in my throat and I put a hand to my chest. Blood rushed in my ears. I knelt on the bed to get closer to it. It was me, playing the cello, head thrown back, eyes closed, hair cascading, just like the drawing he’d left on my bed Saturday afternoon. But, unlike the drawing, the painting showed me naked. The cello covered the important bits, so really it was just my arms and legs on show, with a slight swell of a breast and a brown disc of areola peeking through.
‘Oh my God,’ I whispered after a shocked silence. ‘Really?’ I glanced up at his worried eyes and he nodded, biting his lip. ‘But that drawing you left on my bed? I thought that was recent?’
He shook his head. ‘Just a prototype. I’ve got quite a few.’
Reaching up, he pulled down a blue folder from the top of his wardrobe. Pages fluttered like leaves across the bed. They were charcoal drawings, pencil sketches, watercolours – all of them of me. I passed my hand over them in wonder. Some were of me playing the cello. Some were of me around college: waiting in the queue for lunch, sitting with Rachel in the common room, talking, laughing, reading. There was one that took my breath away and gave me a raw pain in the pit of my stomach. It was of me in English, sitting at a desk with a pencil between my fingers, head bent over my work but looking up at him through my eyelashes. He’d got my eyes just right.
‘You’re an amazing artist,’ I said. ‘Do you still draw?’ I lifted more pages, more pictures.
‘Not since my muse disappeared.’
‘Well, I’m back now.’ I paused at a naked picture of me reclining on a bed. ‘I take it this was from your imagination though.’
He made a dive for it and snatched it out of my hand. ‘I was a teenage boy!’ he said, his face turning crimson. I laughed at him, although I was pretty red myself. I couldn’t believe he’d done all of these drawings. I couldn’t believe he’d felt this way. There was another drawing of me looking over my shoulder at him, my eyes curious, direct, entranced.
‘See, this makes me want to punch you,’ I said, holding it together with the one in the English lesson. ‘You’ve captured my expression beautifully, and quite clearly I am completely and utterly in love with you. Why didn’t you ask me out, you idiot?’
He shrugged. ‘It seems simple now, but like I said I just thought you were too good for me. Besides, I showed them to my art teacher. Do you remember Mr Jeffries? He laughed at me and told me a girl like you would never look at a loser like me.’
‘Nice!’
‘Besides, it wasn’t the right time for us. We would never have made it if we’d got together back then. We were too different and had too much change ahead.’ He leaned the canvas up against his chest of drawers and sat down on the bed next to me. Pushing my hair to the side, he kissed
my neck and pulled me back into his body. I was still clutching the picture of me in English class.
‘This just brings it all back,’ I said, smoothing it out. ‘You know, as an adult with bills to pay and stuff, you often think “I wish I was a teenager again”, but this…’ I shook the picture. ‘God, it was so painful loving you back then. I tied myself in knots. All those hormones and self-doubt.’
‘I know.’
‘Do you really think we wouldn’t have made it if we’d been together back then?’
‘Probably not. Besides, I was a crap shag back then.’ He chuckled and kissed me again.
‘I never even realised you came to watch the orchestra play.’
‘That’s because you never looked up.’
‘Like you and your guitar?’
‘Exactly. Did you ever draw any naked pictures of me?’
‘No!’
I went red and Daniel laughed. ‘And there’s the difference between men and women.’
I gathered up the drawings and put them neatly back into the folder. I kept looking at the English one. ‘I can’t get over this,’ I repeated, looking at it. ‘I’d completely wiped out the memory of those looks in English class. I just kept dreaming about kissing you at the prom.’
‘Even when you were with Alex?’
I nodded. ‘You never went away. Not really. It’s amazing us getting stuck together in that lift like that. Do you believe in fate?’ I turned to look at him and he hesitated.
‘Well, kind of.’ He gave me a strange, almost guilty, look. ‘I have to confess that I actually followed you into the supermarket though.’
‘Followed me? You were following me? How long for?’
He laughed and shook his head. ‘Not long. I was in town and happened to see you walking into the supermarket. I was just curious, but then you got into the lift and I thought bugger it and got in with you.’
‘I don’t know whether to be creeped out or not.’ I looked across at the naked canvas and Daniel cringed.
‘I know, but, at the end of the day, at least I don’t have a box of hairs and nail clippings.’
‘That’s a very good point. I wish I hadn’t told you that.’
‘If you hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t be showing you these now.’
Getting up off the bed, I lifted the canvas for a closer look. ‘I really love this. Did anyone else see it?’
‘Just Mr Jeffries.’
‘He recognised me from this?’
Daniel nodded. ‘Well, I kind of owned up. I was gutted when he said you wouldn’t look twice at me.’
‘Didn’t you show him this?’ I held up the English drawing.
Daniel shook his head. ‘It’s not like a photo, is it? I drew you naked from my imagination. I could have made that look up too. Besides, it didn’t really matter that you fancied me. Rachel used to give me the most evil warning looks. I thought she was going to kill me after the prom.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The look she gave me when I left with my mates. If looks could kill, I’d be dead by now.’ He shook his head. ‘She didn’t look that happy when she saw me the other day either.’
I frowned. ‘She’s just worried because she thinks I like you more than you like me. Not very flattering really.’ I shrugged. ‘But I suppose she’s had to pick up the pieces before.’ I shot him a guilty look and he cringed.
‘I feel like a right bastard. I’m sorry I hurt you.’
‘It was a long time ago.’ I climbed back onto his lap, facing him. ‘And it’s also my happiest, most magical memory.’ I dropped butterfly kisses across his face, his nose, his cheeks and the sore, bruised skin around his eye. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered.
Chapter Nineteen
‘But what if he’s got thousands and thousands of drawings of loads of different girls tucked away somewhere?’ Rachel protested. She stirred her coffee round and round, looking annoyed. ‘As far as I’m concerned, that proves nothing. You were probably just one of many.’
‘Well, even if I was, at least I earned him an A for his art,’ I said, refusing to take the bait.
We were sitting at a table outside the coffee shop, and though it was a lovely sunny day, fierce gusts of wind kept flapping the tablecloths and sending napkins billowing up the street. Rachel’s red hair blew across her face and she pushed it back, impatiently.
‘And you’re still wearing that stupid fake ring!’ she snapped.
I glanced down at the massive rock on her finger. ‘So, when am I going to meet Patrick then?’
‘Don’t change the subject!’ she said. ‘We’re talking about you. I’m worried about you. You’ve only just split up with Alex, and now Daniel’s back on the scene and it’s like you’ve lost your head. Don’t you think you might be on the rebound?’
‘Not really,’ I said, keeping my tone light despite feeling annoyed. ‘Alex and I had barely communicated for months. Seeing Daniel has just made me realise how bad things had got. I feel alive again, Rachel. He makes me so happy and excited.’
‘Yes, but don’t you think you might be rushing into things a little bit too fast?’
My cheeks flooded with colour as anger and indignation washed over me. ‘You can’t believe he likes me, can you? This is that bet thing all over again!’
‘What bet thing?’
‘That thing you said in the pub about me thinking he’d kissed me for a bet. I never thought that; you must have thought that. How insulting!’
‘Elena! Don’t be ridiculous. I never really thought that. I was just sounding him out because I remember him as a bit of an idiot at college and I wanted to see what he would say. Of course I believe he likes you, I just want to make sure he’s good enough for you and that you don’t rush into anything too soon after Alex. Alex was a crap boyfriend and he put you down at every opportunity.’ I started to protest but she held up a hand to silence me. ‘I know he did. I just want to make sure he hasn’t knocked your confidence so much that you think you’re still that shy seventeen-year-old you used to be. You’re vulnerable right now, and Daniel seems to have turned up at just the right time. Just because you used to fancy him doesn’t mean you still have to.’
‘I know that!’ I spluttered. ‘But have you seen him? He looks better than ever.’
‘Yes, but what I’m worried about is how much in awe of him you used to be. You could barely function when you were in the same room as him. Please don’t revert to that. I mean, okay, have some fun with him if that’s what you want. But don’t go back to mooning over him and treating him like some kind of god.’
‘I’m pretty sure I won’t be doing that, Rachel. Thank you.’
‘Well, I know how sentimental you can be. I mean, take that ring, for example. It’s a piece of cheap crap but you’re wearing it because he gave it to you. That’s what you would have done back when you were a teenager, only now you’re twenty-five. I just don’t want him thinking he’s too good for you,’ she continued, ‘because then that gives him control and he can abuse that.’
I threw up my hands, exasperated. ‘But that’s what falling in love is, isn’t it? You basically hand them your heart on a plate and hope they don’t stick a fork in it.’
‘But it has to be a mutual thing, Elena. I want to make sure you’re not giving your heart away too soon.’
I sighed. ‘I know it sounds too good to be true, but it feels so right. Besides, I just told you that he used me as his muse for his college coursework. He liked me just as much as I liked him.’ I tingled all over as I said it. I still couldn’t believe it was true. ‘And I really don’t feel like he’s too good for me. I just feel like he’s good for me. I can talk to him and laugh with him. We get on really well. You don’t have to worry about me just sitting there, gazing at him in awe-struck silence, too scared to speak. We have the best time together.’
Rachel looked slightly appeased. She nodded slightly and took another sip of coffee.
‘Well, as long as you’re sure?’
‘I am sure. Anyway, I want to talk about you and Patrick, now.’ I cleared my throat. ‘I’m not letting you marry him until I’ve met him. There’s no way. I have no idea who he is.’
‘Well, of course you’re going to meet him before the wedding. Durr!’
‘But you just said you’re getting married in Mauritius. I won’t be able to afford to go to Mauritius.’
‘Yes, but it’s not until next year. You’ll definitely meet him before then.’
‘I better had do. You’ve been seeing him for six months already and I haven’t met him yet. And by the way, six months isn’t that long to be seeing someone before deciding to get married, you know. Especially as he spends so much time in London. Have you worked out where you’re going to live once you’re married? You’re not moving to London, are you?’
‘No! I’ve got my shop here, haven’t I? Oh, and by the way, you just contradicted yourself there. You said six months was ages not to meet him, then said six months wasn’t long enough to know you want to marry someone. I mean, look at you, saying the L word after two weeks based on a teenage crush.’
‘It’s not just based on that though. He’s amazing. He makes me feel amazing.’
‘Anyone would make you feel amazing after bloody Alex.’
‘Not anyone, Rachel. Besides, I thought you were starting to come round to the idea of liking him and accepting he might not be the Casanova you once thought he was.’
‘What do you want me to do? Say go on, move in with the twat bag who snogged you then made you cry for months after he disappeared.’
‘You didn’t cry for months, did you?’ Daniel sounded horrified as he pulled up a seat and sat down opposite us at the table.
I stared at him surprise. It was like my soul jumped for joy at the sight of him, jolting my whole body. He was wearing a T-shirt that said Arborists Do It Better. ‘What are you doing here?’ I leaned over to kiss him.
‘I’m working by the river and came in to get something to eat. Saw you out here and thought it might be okay to say hello. Seems I was wrong.’ He gave Rachel a long, cool look, which she returned with utter contempt. Turning his attention to me, he lifted my sunglasses and checked my eyes. ‘Just checking you’re not crying now,’ he said.
Stuck With You Page 21
