by Lucy Clark
‘What’s wrong?’ he’d asked, breaking his mouth from hers and staring into her eyes. There, the hesitation had been confirmed and he’d quickly removed his hands, placing them back on her shoulders. ‘We don’t have to do this.’
‘Yes. Yes, we do. I…I want to do this.’
‘Honey, you don’t need to do anything. I’m not going to force you.’ He’d wanted to make that absolutely clear.
‘Oh, I know you would never do that. Never.’ The words had been adamant and he’d breathed a sigh of relief that she’d known he would never take advantage of her.
‘Then why? Why come here and say what you did when you clearly have reservations?’
‘Because I don’t want to die a virgin!’
A loud crack, followed by a thud reverberated around him and Arthur sat up with a jolt. Had that sound come from his memories? He remembered being completely floored by her words back then, as though his entire world had ripped apart at the seams. Why did she think she was going to die? Why the sudden urgency? Yes, his thoughts had been turbulent at the time but right now he was unsettled. His gut told him something wasn’t right and he always followed his gut instincts.
Arthur crept from his bed over to the door, opening it slowly before staring at the closed door to the spare room. Everything seemed quiet but the fact that Maybelle was here meant he was on edge. Was she all right? Should he check on her? Deciding it couldn’t hurt to check, he walked from his room and reached out for the door handle. Before he could touch it, the door was wrenched open and he was whacked on the head with something hard.
‘Ugh.’ He instinctively raised a hand to ward off the next attack. The next thwack hit his arm and he realised her weapon of choice was a large hard-back dictionary. ‘Maybelle. Maybelle. It’s me.’ His words were punctuated by a few more swipes of the book, which he managed to dodge. ‘May!’
When he spoke her real name she paused, her breathing erratic, and from what he could see of her in the darkened room her eyes were wide and filled with confusion. The book was raised in her arms, ready for another strike. It didn’t matter that his head hurt, it didn’t matter that something had caused her to completely freak out. All that mattered was getting through to her that she was safe, that she wasn’t in any danger—at least, not from him.
‘It’s Arthur.’ He tried once more to calm her down and when she lowered the book, letting it drop to the floor, he stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘You’re safe, May. You’re safe.’
‘Arthur?’ She looked up at him with utter confusion and the urge to resist her was lost as he gathered her close into his arms. She went willingly, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest. Arthur held her trembling body, doing everything he could to let her know she was safe.
He breathed in the scent of her hair, allowing the present-day reality to combine with his past memories. He’d held her like this on several occasions, especially that last evening. They’d been lying on his bed, above the covers, fully dressed, his arms around her, holding her, talking quietly with her.
‘I love the sound of your heartbeat.’ It was a few minutes later that she mumbled the words against his chest. ‘I would often think of lying there in your arms, listening to the soothing lub-dub of your heart as you stroked my hair and spoke reassuringly in your deep, modulated tones.’
He smiled at that. ‘Deep modulated tones?’ He tried to ease away but she only tightened her grip around his waist, clearly not ready to break the hold.
‘Your voice has a certain…cadence to it and I’ve always equated that with safety.’ Only now did she slowly lift her head from his chest and look up at him. ‘There were times in my life when things weren’t safe, when we’d been discovered and had to leave everything in the middle of the night and try to start our lives again.’
‘Oh, sweetheart.’
‘And when my life was so uncertain, when I had no idea from one day to the next what was happening, where we were going to live, what my name was going to be…then I would remember that night. That special night…with you.’
‘Nothing happened.’ He wanted to make sure she was remembering it the right way.
‘Everything happened, Arthur.’
He eased back and this time she let go. ‘That’s not the way I remember it.’ He bent to pick up the book, wanting to put some distance between her and the item that had connected with his skull. Returning it to the shelf, he took her hand and led her from the room.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, but thankfully didn’t fight him.
‘I’m making us some tea. You’re clearly delusional.’
‘A strong shot of whisky would probably help more but I’ll take the tea.’ And there it was, that wonderful, teasing sense of humour he’d missed so much. He glanced at her over his shoulder and smiled.
‘I’ve missed you.’ The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and Maybelle squeezed his hand and nodded.
‘I missed you, too.’
They stood and stared at each other for a long moment, the air around them almost starting to crackle with electric tension. It had always been this way, ever since that first kiss so very long ago. He glanced at her mouth—that perfectly sculpted mouth that had always fitted so perfectly with his own. Swallowing, he met her eyes and only now that they were in the artificially lit kitchen did he realise she’d removed the contacts.
Bright blue eyes, the colour of the sky on a cloudless summer’s day, gazed back at him, repressed desire visible in their depths. She bit her lower lip and he realised she was nervous. He didn’t blame her. He was nervous, too. He knew it was possible for the physical attraction he’d felt all those years ago to return with a forceful thump but the emotional connection, the one that years apart should have wrecked, was still very much alive.
Then, before he could think anything else, she’d moved towards him in one fluid motion, wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled his mouth down to meet hers. It was exactly that way she’d approached him all those years ago, as if she had to follow through on her desire before she lost her nerve.
Memories of the last time she’d done this and the fresh sensations of the present blurred together to make one almighty, powerful aphrodisiac. Where years ago the kiss had been testing and hesitant, this time it was filled with heat, experience and adult appreciation for the possible outcome such a kiss could evoke. Gone were the questions about whether or not they should consummate these feelings because this time there was no doubt that she wanted him and definitely no doubt that he wanted her. There was no hesitation, no hesitation at all.
How was it possible after all this time that the sweetness of her mouth was just as intoxicating? The woman was in his blood. That was the only explanation he could garner. She’d left an imprint that hadn’t faded and now it was time to bring their story to the full conclusion.
‘This needs to happen,’ she whispered against his mouth. ‘I’ve dreamt about it for so long.’
‘You have?’ The words were mumbled between them as he spread kisses across her cheek and down to her neck. She’d always liked it when he’d kissed her neck and now was no exception. Tilting her head to the side and allowing him access to her smooth, delicious skin, she moaned with delight before sliding her fingers into his hair and momentarily massaging his scalp. He liked that. He liked that she knew him and he knew her. When she tightened her grip on his hair and pulled his head up, he knew she was ready for the next onslaught of emotions, the heat between them now at a dangerous level.
This time when their mouths met there were no more questions, no more hesitation, no more confusion. Hot and hungry, they devoured each other, her hands sliding beneath the T-shirt he wore and making short work of removing it. The tantalising touch of her fingertips on his skin left a trail of desire-filled fire that only fuelled him on. She broke free from his mouth to smother his chest with kisses that nearly sent him over the edge. He groaned with
longing, with need, with desire as she continued to create havoc with his senses.
‘Do you have…any idea, what you…do to me?’ he ground out, his hands at her waist, holding her body close to his.
‘I think…you do the same to me,’ she returned as she lifted her own knit top over her head, revealing a lilac-coloured bra beneath. Before he had time to drink his fill, she’d pressed her almost naked chest against his and captured his lips with hers. ‘I want you, Arthur,’ she murmured against his mouth. ‘Even more than I did back then.’ She kissed him again and again and he accepted those kisses, but there was a pinging noise at the back of his mind that was gradually getting louder and louder.
‘You do know we didn’t…’ He gasped as she nipped at his lower lip. ‘We didn’t do anything.’
‘Not in my world.’ Her words were fast and impatient as though she wanted things to continue on their natural course of progression. She eased back ever so slightly and grabbed both his hands in hers, urging him from the kitchen and back towards the bedroom. Arthur was too dazed, too stunned to believe this was actually happening, that they were going to rewrite history and actually—
‘Wait.’ He stopped her in the hallway just next to his open bedroom door. ‘What do you mean, “not in my world”? We didn’t have sex that night, Maybelle.’
‘We should have.’
‘We couldn’t!’
‘What does it matter now?’ she said as she backed into his bedroom, beckoning him closer.
‘It matters that whatever you’re doing now, you’re doing it for the right reasons, that you’re not simply trying to live out a fantasy of a life you weren’t able to have.’
‘You’re overthinking this.’ She perched herself on the end of his bed and gazed at him with such devotion he almost capitulated.
‘Am I?’ If this was going to happen, he didn’t want either of them to have regrets.
‘I want you, Arthur. Isn’t that reason enough?’
‘And what about tomorrow? What about working together? Trying to be friends? Don’t you think having sex will change all that?’ He stayed in the hallway, trying to keep his logical thoughts in place, even though his libido was telling him otherwise.
She frowned at him for a moment, as though she was trying to process what it was he was actually saying. ‘Are you turning me down again?’ Maybelle spread her arms wide, glaring at him with those incredible eyes of hers. He had no idea what had happened to her brown contacts and he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was the pain in her eyes and the fact that he’d been the one to cause it.
‘I’m not saying we shouldn’t, I’m just saying we should perhaps take things a little slower.’
Her grin turned wolfish. ‘Slow is good.’
‘Maybelle.’ There was a slight warning in his tone and he leaned against the doorjamb. ‘Is this what you really want?’
‘Arthur, it’s all I’ve wanted since I was sixteen. I want to know what it’s like to be with you, to have you as close to me as humanly possible. I want to know what it’s like to sleep in your arms all night long, to wake up with you in the morning, to sit together at the breakfast table and read the paper.’
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You want marriage?’
‘Marriage!’ Her surprise echoed his. ‘What? No. That’s not what I meant.’
‘So you don’t want marriage?’
‘Arthur…’ She glanced around his room and spied an ironed shirt in the closet. She took it off the hanger and put it on, clearly feeling self-conscious standing in the middle of his room wearing only her trousers and bra. The problem was she looked even sexier wearing his too-large shirt. ‘I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what’s going on in my life. I don’t even know who I am yet. The last thing I need is to drag anyone else into my upside-down world.’
‘Yet you’re clearly willing to drag me in…to a point.’
‘You’re different.’
‘So you do want to drag me in?’
Maybelle sighed with impatience before closing her eyes and shaking her head. ‘I’m saying I don’t know what I want. No one ever knows what they want.’
‘But you just told me that you wanted me.’
She opened her eyes and glared at him. ‘That’s not what I meant. Stop taking everything I say out of context. Yes, I want you—physically—but long term…?’ She shrugged, her shoulders rising and falling in his too-big shirt. ‘Do you? Do you know what you want?’
‘Yes.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course you do. You’re Arthur. You plan everything.’ She paced around his room for a moment then fixed him with a glare. ‘I’ve often wondered, back then, if it had been your idea to have a romantic tryst, then it would have happened. You would have pulled out all the stops in order to seduce me but the fact that I was the one who came to you, asking you to make love to me, well…there was simply no dice.’
‘What? Maybelle, you were confused and young and—’
‘Desperately in love with you,’ she pointed out. ‘And you were in love with me, or so you said.’
They’d been two very confused teenagers back then. He full of general teenage hormones and angst, and she full of confusion and fear. ‘I couldn’t take advantage of you, Maybelle. What if having sex had hurt you—physically? What if you’d become accidentally pregnant? What if you’d hated me for taking advantage?’
She sat down on his bed, twirling her hair absently with her finger as she pondered his words. The action only made her look more appealing and the fact that she was doing it unconsciously made his heart lurch for her. How was it that even after all these years, after everything they’d been through, she still looked innocent? ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ she said after a moment. ‘I just presumed all teenage boys wanted to have sex.’
‘They do. I did. I really did.’ He wanted to venture into the room, to sit beside her, to put his arms around her, to hold her close, but he was shirtless and she was…well, she was adorably sexy and incredibly inviting. ‘However, that night we had together was one of the best nights I’ve ever had. Sex is one thing but we had a connection. We bonded that night.’ Arthur couldn’t keep the passion from his tone. ‘It was an amazing night.’
‘It was.’ She dropped her hand to her side and stared unseeingly at the room before her. ‘I thought about that night often, usually when I was melancholy or upset. Memories of that night would cheer me up, would give me hope.’ Hope that one day she’d bump into him again but, given her circumstances, she’d known it to be impossible. A small smile touched her lips. If only her past self could see her now, sitting on Arthur’s bed, wearing one of Arthur’s shirts, her lips still tingling from Arthur’s kisses.
‘A lot has happened in our lives since then,’ he pointed out.
‘Hence why you’re suggesting we stick to being just friends?’ Maybelle covered her face with her hands and he could tell she was feeling foolish. ‘Yet I kept pushing, kept insisting, kept throwing myself at you in an effort to satisfy my own desires.’
Arthur gave in and crossed to her side, crouching down in front of her, pulling her hands from her face. ‘I have those same desires, Maybelle.’
‘Yet you clearly have more self-control than I do.’
‘Perhaps that’s because I know where I want my life to lead.’
‘And where’s that?’
‘My career. My research. I put two grants in for funding and one was accepted last week.’
‘Your research?’ The way she said the word it was almost as though he’d just told her he wanted to stick a needle in her eye. ‘That’s all that’s important to you? What, wouldn’t you want to get married again? Have children?’
He shook his head and stood, walking away from her, unable to see that look in her eyes, the one that was silently calling him a traitor. ‘Research is important. It can change people’s lives, it can change the way surgeons perform various operations, and without research there
would be no further advances in medical science.’ He was on the defensive and he knew it.
‘You’re darned right when you say that research can change people’s lives.’ She shook her head and he couldn’t blame her for feeling that way. With her parents being married to their research and, in the end, having that research affect her life in such a dramatic way, it was little wonder she was looking at him as though he was out of his mind.
‘And with regard to marriage, it didn’t work for me. I tried the house in the suburbs.’
‘And children?’
‘My ex-wife didn’t want any.’
‘And how about you?’
Arthur spread his arms wide. ‘Of course I wanted to have children but it didn’t happen.’
‘What did happen, Arthur? Because, while you’re very much the same as you ever were, this…’ she pointed in the direction of his heart ‘…this part of you has always wanted children. You told me so, remember? We were sitting on the couch, making out instead of studying, and when we both came up for air, you sat with me in your arms and we talked about what we wanted for our future and you told me you wanted to become a doctor, get married, live in a house like the one we were in and raise children just the way you and Clara were raised. You told me that, Arthur.’
It was true and he knew there was also no point in lying to her because he’d nearly made the Freudian slip of saying their house in the suburbs, their life together, their children, because back then all he’d wanted was to be with May Fleming for the rest of his life. That hadn’t happened. ‘That was then.’
‘What happened, Arthur? What happened with your marriage?’ Maybelle’s words were filled with sadness and regret for him. At least her disdain for his proposed research projects had decreased…for the moment. He sat down on the floor beside the bed and shook his head.
‘Yvette was an attorney—well, she still is. She practises in both Sydney and Los Angeles and is now a junior partner in the firm.’
