Chapter 21

If the atmosphere was awkward before the 'naked incident', then it was nothing compared to how it was now. Even though nearly two weeks had passed, the unspoken words between them seemed to have mounded up to dangerously toxic levels, so much so that every night, they went down to the bar just to escape being alone in the room together. Jenny had become very distant with him, and for reasons unknown, snapped at him at every available opportunity, forcing him to match her temper and argue back, usually leading to a full blown fight. Cutter had no idea what he was doing wrong, but he'd be damned if he was going to just sit back and take all the insults and catty comments without defending himself. On one particular night, an extremely ruckus group of men were sitting in the corner opposite them, in the company of a couple of young prostitutes. Now Cutter wasn't the sort of man to be in to any of that stuff, but he was human after all, and a couple of times he felt his gaze slip from Jenny over to one particular woman who was sitting in a very compromising manner. After the third time of this happening, he heard Jenny scowl.

"Hello?" she snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"What?" Cutter said distantly, wrenching his gaze away from the woman to the angry-looking one opposite him.

"Would you like me to leave you two alone for a while?"she asked hotly.

"Wait a minute," he sighed, confused at the sudden verbal attack. "When the hell did the fight start?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why are all men the same? All you think about is sex. It bugs the hell out of me!"

"And why would it bug you if I'm looking at another woman?"

"It doesn't," she said quickly. "It's just that I'm meant to be your wife in public, and it hardly looks realistic if you're ogling another woman."

"Actually, they're are probably married," he said, nodding over to the roaring bunch of men with a grimace. "And what do you mean all I think about is sex? I don't think I've mentioned sex to you once. I reckon it's you who's got it on the brain."

"Me?" she repeated in incredulity.

"Yes, you're the one bringing it up."

"Only because you've got your tongue hanging out."

"It really bothers you this much that I glanced at another woman?"

She laughed coldly. "Don't flatter yourself Cutter. I don't care if you're sleeping with a different woman every night."

"Well, I would find it difficult with you in the bed next to me wouldn't I?"

She scowled and shot him a disgusted look before getting up abruptly.

"Sit down!" he snapped through gritted teeth, losing his temper completely - he was sick of feeling like he had to walk on egg shells. "We need to talk."

She hesitated for a moment, before reluctantly sitting back down, glaring him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded coldly.

"Nothing - " she began defensively.

"You've been a nightmare for weeks now!" he continued. "I thought PMS only lasted a few days?"

"Oh right, I'm a woman, so the only reason I can be upset is because of PMS," she retorted sarcastically. "Don't patronize me!"

"There you go again!" Cutter pointed out flinging his arms in the air triumphantly.

"Nothing's wrong with me," she mumbled. "Maybe if you didn't wind me up so much - "

"Me wind you up?" Cutter exclaimed in incredulity. "Are you kidding me? I can barely breathe without you snapping at me!"

"Maybe I'd be nicer to you if you stopped with your clever little comments," she spat.

"What, and if I'm a good boy you're going to show me your tattoo again?" he sneered unwisely.

She slammed her hands down on the table angrily, unwittingly making him jump, before she stormed off.

"Goodnight sweetheart!" he shouted after her.

She turned and glared at him, before thundering up the stairs. Grumbling to himself, Cutter turned back to the bar, aware that many of the people there were staring at him with bemused expressions. He smiled awkwardly, and downed the rest of his drink, before getting to his feet to fetch another - he had learnt from experience that when Jenny was in this mood that she was best left alone, and he certainly wasn't going to put himself in the position to get his head bitten off again. He'd rather sit down in the bar nursing his drink.

Jenny was drifting in and out of sleep, unable to fully relax because her subconscious was aware that Cutter wasn't back yet. She was getting a little worried, she had to admit - it was late, and they hadn't spent much time without each other for the past month. However, she was too proud to go down and see if he was alright - that, and she was slightly ashamed of herself. She shouldn't have gone off on him like that. Why should it bother her if he looked at another woman? Woman, she chided herself immediately, not 'another woman'. That phrase would imply that she was his woman, and she most certainly wasn't. So it shouldn't have bothered her.

But it did. And she couldn't help it.

At some point, she must have fell into a light sleep. But all she knew was that a bang made her wake with a start as suddenly as if someone had yelled in her ear. Confused, she sat bolt upright, the darkness so all consuming that she couldn't even see her hands in front of her. The creaking of the floorboards could still be heard from outside, making her feel a prickle of terror run through her. Slowly, she got up and cautiously crept towards the door, closing her eyes and praying that it was all in her head. After a deep breath, she opened the door. The dim illumination from the candles in the hall allowed her to see the culprit. Cutter was lounging against the wooden panels around the door, a pleasant clumsy grin on his face.

"Cutter?" she said, completely bemused.

"Jenny!" he shouted happily, sliding down the door frame.

"Are - are you drunk?" she demanded in disbelief as she held the door half open.

"Well . . ." he slurred, holding his thumb and forefinger half an inch apart. "Maybe a little . . ."

She tutted heavily, feeling torn between annoyance and slight amusement. "Get in," she ordered sternly, pulling his arm.

He tumbled into her, causing her to stagger back several feet.

"You look so beautiful . . ." he stammered, his hands around her waist.

"God, is there any drink left downstairs?" she asked sarcastically as she levered him over to the bed.

They fell in a heap, Cutter laughing in a good-humoured manner.

"You are unbelievable," she grumbled, straightening up with difficulty and pushing her hair out of her face impatiently.

"So I've been told," he smiled faintly.

His hands, whether voluntarily or not, rubbed her side in a rather sensual manner, his fingers brushing against the bottom curve of her chest.

"Behave yourself," she chided, pushing his hands away and squashing the insane desire she had to let him keep going. "You're drunk."

"Not - not very . . ." he mumbled, his arms falling limply down at his side.

She smiled reluctantly. "Why did you go and get yourself in such a state, hmm?" she asked, without thinking reaching down and brushing his hair back.

He didn't answer, his eyes fluttering shut. She watched him for a moment, wishing that she could apologise to him, but knowing that if she did, he wouldn't remember it in the morning. Though maybe that wasn't a bad thing . . .

"I - I know I've been a bit of a bitch lately," she sighed, surprised that she found it easier to confess her feelings when he was unconscious. "I'm sorry. It's just . . ." she paused, pondering her own actions for a moment before continuing. "It's just that I find it . . . difficult . . .to be around you sometimes, and not be able to tell you . . ." she stopped again, feeling silly for telling him this when he was in such a state.

"Hm?" he mumbled.

She smiled again fondly, noticing how cute he looked with his tousled hair. "Go to sleep," she whispered, patting his arm and getting to her feet to go and close the door.

"Jenny . . ." he breathed unexpectedly.

She turned to look at him again, although she knew he was probably just talking in his sleep. However, a few seconds later -

"I - I love you," he murmured, so quietly that she almost missed it.

She froze, her heart stopping dead.

"What?" she gapped in shock.

"I . . . I love you . . . I need . . ." he whispered, but trailed off, his eyes shutting again.

"Cutter!" she shouted, walking up to him and perching on the side of the bed. "What did you just say?"

He muttered something unintelligible in his sleep, but other than that, he didn't respond.

"Nick?" she said, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him slightly in frustration. "You can't just tell me something like that to me and then go to sleep! Wake up!"

His breathing had become deep and steady, telling her that whether she liked it or not, he had gone into a deep sleep.

Groaning, she released him and sat back, shaking her head in disbelief.

What the hell had just happened? Was that just the drink talking? Or - her pulse raced slightly at the thought - did he really mean it?