I noticed Nick wasn't paying attention when I finished labelling another full box of stuff to be donated and looked up to find him staring out of my window.
The house was north facing, by bedroom was on the back, the windows overlooked the estate. We'd had a little snow. It lay blanketing the grass, catching on the tips of the pines and evergreens that lined the path towards the gardens and fields beyond.
'Nick?'
He must have been pretty deep in thought; he responded first with a hum that was more instinctive like he wanted to show that he was listening even though he wasn't. It took him a second before he actually turned his head. 'Yeah. Sorry. What?'
'I don't think they'll be much,' I explained. We'd driven back from Nick's to sort out some more things from the house on the hill. I'd only grabbed a bag the first time, the urge to get away from the place much stronger than the rationality that I would need more than underwear and a sweater.
Nick sort of glanced around the room in confusion. It was a big space. I had a tall 4 poster bed with a canopy because the ceilings were high, mismatching antique bedside tables– one was an old apple crate from the orchard and the other Victorian teak, a wall of wardrobes with barely enough clothes to fit one, and the dark wallpapered walls were collaged with paintings in gold frames.
'I don't need any of it,' I continued, interpreting his expression.
'But if you want it–'
'I don't,' I said. I shook my head. 'But if you see something you want– a painting– piece of furniture, honestly its yours you don't even have to ask just put it in the car, they'll be plenty of space. Everything's going anyway, I haven't sent the inventory to the museum or the gallery yet so they wouldn't even miss anything, and the stuff they don't want will go to charity.'
He smiled. 'Thank you.' Then he cleared his throat. 'So what are we taking?'
I gestured to a collection of about 5 boxes by the door behind me. 'Once the research starts pilling up there's going to be more than enough paperwork laying around to fill the house, so...'
He nodded. 'Good, it's been way too tidy at home recently. It unsettles me.'
I smiled back at him. 'Thank you for having me.'
He laughed. 'You know that's it now, don't you?' he replied, 'you are never getting rid of me.'
'Good,' I reiterated, 'because I wasn't even slightly considering leaving either.'
His smile widened. 'I'll make a start taking those boxes to your car.' He started moving towards the door, but I lifted a hand as he got closer– a half gesture he seemed to understand– and he sort of slowed down in front of me. Once I was close enough I out my hand against his chest and without a word rose onto my tiptoes and kissed him.
I hadn't intended for it to be any more than a peck, a brief sign of a deeper affection but I lingered and couldn't pull away.
I didn't want to. My hand slid up to his shoulder, my arm wrapped around his neck. And it felt good to just be close to him, to hold him and press against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, holding me firmly to him.
The kiss deepened, I got caught up in it. Electricity started to spike in my veins. My hand fell down my shoulder and ran to his bicep and squeezed– just trying to ground myself. His mouth opened beneath mine to release a groan– something that sounded like it could have been my name but his accent was so thick I couldn't properly distinguish it. My lips parted beneath his.
His tongue met mine, just briefly, almost like he was unsure whether I would pull back but I arched further into him and chased the sensation. He bent over me, hands running down my back over my ass to my thighs before he straightened, pulling me with him, lifting me into his arms and my legs wrapped around his waist.
I pulled back to take in a breath of air, tucked my hair behind my ears then leant back in to crush my mouth to his.
He moved. I held on tightly to him as he spun around and took a couple of slow steps back towards my bed. He sat back against the edge of it and brought me down in his lap.
The seem of my jeans took me by surprise as I came down against it and it knocked against my clit– I jumped, a bolt of pleasure I wasn't expecting shot through me and I moved instinctively back from it and rolled my hips to shift the seam of my trousers.
Nick's mouth broke from mine, his hand immediately whipping up the back of my neck to hold me still and this time I heard the grumble clearly. 'Anna...'
His voice sounded so sexy my own lips parted to gasp in air. I could feel his cock straining against his trousers beneath me.
This was it. This was the last chance to stop and pull away if I wanted too, because I knew I wouldn't be able to fight it.
I opened my eyes– just to see his expression, just to check in case he had reservations– and looked straight into his.
Too late.
'Are you okay?'
The question almost caught me off-guard, I didn't understand what he was asking straight away until my gaze shifted like some sort of spiritual intervention to explain and I caught sight of the photo on the bedside table.
The five of us.
He studied every inch of my reaction. when I brought my attention swiftly back to him before blinking I found his stare already burning into me, following every move I made as I shifted slightly in his lap again, his grip tightened, and I brushed my hair back over my shoulders.
'Yes,' I said. I lifted my hand and rested it against his cheek then leant in to place a sweet kiss to his lips.
He pulled back and smiled softly at me, tucking my fringe back behind my ear. 'Tell me if I'm not being gentle enough.'
'You are,' I replied and kissed him again. 'Don't worry. I'm not going to break.'
Suddenly I was on my back, pinned between Nick and the mattress.
His fingers slipped the buttons from the holes, opening my shirt to bare me to him. He leant in, placing a lingering kiss on my sternum before his mouth travelled out across my chest to flesh of my boob spilling out of my bra. His hand ran up my stomach, sealing over the cup and squeezing gently. I fisted a hand in his hair and moaned.
My legs tightened around his hips, trying to bring him as close to me as possible.
My fingers ran beneath the hem of his t-shirt, sliding up his back and pulling it up with me, until he pulled back for a second, grabbed it by the back of the neck and removed it.
His eyes fell to my stomach and the scar marred into my skin. There was a look in his eye– like he was thinking about what had happened to me to receive it and it was like he had forgotten himself in the process.
I could tell he was disturbed.
'Nick.'
He didn't even respond to his name. I had to reach out to pull his chin up with my hand against his cheek to bring his gaze back to mine. He pressed his cheek further into my palm, turned his head slightly and kissed it.
'You are so beautiful.' He shook his head. 'I can't–' he blew out a slow breath that fanned out across my collar bones. 'Anna...'
I pushed myself up onto my elbows, pulling him down to met my mouth with a kiss.
As we pulled away to take a breath, his hands ghosted the waist band of my jeans. He popped each button down my fly and started to pull them down. The jeans were tight around my ass– he struggled to get them down to my thighs. The look on his face made me laugh, bringing his attention up to me and he was still just as unamused. I lifted my hips more to try and help him, hooking my own thumbs into the waistband and pushing to get them pass my bum then he pulled them off. His hand trailed up my thigh as he crawled back over me. He pushed my shirt down my shoulders and I pulled my arms out, running a hand down his stomach to the button on his jeans and popping it open.
He shifted his hips helping to push them down. He struggled out of them, kicking them from his legs and pulling his shoes and socks off with them until he was left in just his boxers.
His fingers hooked beneath the strap of my bra, pulling it down my arm and I slipped my arm out and looped it around his neck. The mattress dipped beside me, he leant one arm against the pillow beside my head and moved my fringe back behind my ear again.
Then his knuckle drew down my cheek, his thumb moved carefully across my bottom lip before he leant in and kissed me again.
And it was like I was addicted, the way my brain suddenly clouded with fog and I didn't want to breathe in any more air than didn't smell like his cologne. My bra was unhooked, I threw it away and pressed my bare chest more firmly against his. He groaned against my mouth and I swallowed it.
I arched into my touch, his hand ran up from my knee down the inside of my thigh, and I pulled back from the kiss.
Nick leant in and rested his forehead against mine. 'Are you okay?' he asked again.
I nodded.
He tucked a finger round the waistband of my underwear and pulled it down my legs. Then his fingers went straight to my clit and started to rub slow circles against it. 'Oh– fuck!'
He shifted, just slightly, pulling his head back so instead he could press a couple of quick kisses to my temple.
I could feel that I was already wet, with a few more careful circles against my clit I was bucking against him, and he pressed back into me and I could feel that he was almost painfully hard.
Two fingers slid to my entrance before they dipped inside me, my breath hitched, my head fell back against the pillow and I moaned.
It felt so good. He built a gentle rhythm, slow and just sort of intentional and I could feel a knot forming in my tummy. My eyes fell shut, my hands grabbing both his shoulders as his ministrations built and his thumb came down on my clit and I gasped and arched into him. 'Nick!'
His lips trailed across my forehead, pressing soft kisses to my skin. 'So beautiful,' he murmured. 'What a perfect picture.'
The pressure on my clit increased, his fingers curled up to my g-spot and I cried out.
'Open your eyes.'
It took me a second to do it, I had to stare at the canopy above us to collect myself before I could bring my gaze to him. Our eyes locked, I clenched around his fingers and they started to slow and he just stared at me for a moment as I tried to catch my breath.
'Are you– are you sure this is okay?' he asked softly.
My hand fell from his shoulder to his bicep and I squeezed. 'Oh god, please fuck me.'
He pulled back, fingers slipping out of me earning a throaty sort of whine, before a moment later he took a hold of my thigh, pulled it up around his waist and thrust into me.
He gave me a second before he started to move, his cheek coming to rest against mine as I dug my fingers into his muscle and held on to him.
I could feel every inch, pushing deeper and deeper until I could take no more then pulling back almost completely before pushing in again. I thought I was on fire. It was consuming. His chest pressed against mine, blue eyes so wide and pupils dilated they almost conformed to his irises as he pulled back and hovered over me for a moment, just staring down at my face. His gaze flitted to my lips. He leant in, pressed a soft, gentle kiss to them.
I turned my head meeting his mouth with mine and kissing him as deeply and passionately as I could until a particularly firm thrust made me throw my head back and moan loudly. God it was good.
My hands trailed down his arm that was holding him up, hand pressed into the mattress beside me, and I grabbed a hold of his wrist and squeezed. My eyes scrunched shut.
He brought his forehead down and rested it against mine.
'Anna...'
My orgasm was fast approaching, building so quickly I wasn't sure how much longer I could last as he continued to thrust into me.
'I'm–' I tried to speak but my voice came out as nothing more than a breathy moan.
His grip shifted from my thigh back to my clit and it took the slightest bit of pressure before I clenched around him again, breath catching in my throat, and I came.
He came a second after, muscles in his back going rigid, jaw clenched tight so his groan came out as a hiss. His head fell to my shoulder and in turn I pressed my face into his neck. His skin was soft and I could still make out the fading cologne on his skin.
My womb pulsed, my body shaking slightly as I drew my arms around his neck and nestled into him to keep him there; I didn't want him to pull away.
But he didn't. Instead, after he pulled out he shifted, rolling onto his back and pulling me on top of him. My hand fell against his chest, he wrapped his arms right around my shoulders and held onto me just as tightly as I did to him.
We stayed like that for some time, silent except for our levelling breaths.
And it felt right lying there with him, with his arms wrapped around me like they could protect me from everything.
I was an idiot.
I had pushed him away for so long, left him in the lurch and ignored him for weeks for no reason other than my own fear of how easy it had been for him to consume every part of my mind and make me forget.
For the longest time that had been all I'd wanted. To somehow make it all go away. He did it with no more than a look.
His hand covered mine on his chest and he brought it up to his mouth and kissed it.
'You alright?' he asked.
I turned my head up to look at him and met his bright blue eyes. 'Of course,' I said.
He moved my hair back, taking his time to carefully shift each side of my fringe across my forehead and behind each ear. Then his hand came back to rest on my cheek, the pad of his thumb grazing gently across my lip.
'I think you're amazing.'
I cocked my head, leaning further into his touch. 'I'm so sorry I didn't pick up when you called me.'
'Don't be daft,' he kissed the top of my head. 'You don't have to say you're sorry... I'm not– I'm not gonna pretend I understand but I don't need you to explain any of it. It's okay, I promise. Everything is okay.'
A soft, grateful sort of smile spread across my mouth at his words but I didn't even need to say anything. I put my head down against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating.
In one hand he interlaced our fingers together, with the other he started to draw lazy patterns between my shoulder blades.
And it was peaceful.
The birdsong out the window grew louder as the birds got closer and I turned my head to look out just as two robins landed in the snow atop the balcony wall.
'That painting...' Nick started. I lifted my head to find him staring at the large abstract watercolour on a canvas above the fireplace opposite my bed. 'How would you feel about keeping that one?' he continued to ask.
I looked the painting over. 'You've got good taste. That's an original,' I replied.
'Who's it by?'
'My nana.'
I tried to stay as quiet as possible– tiptoed down the hallway, even avoided the squeaky steps on the stairs as I made my way down to the kitchen in the dark.
The microwave clock said 3:30. I hadn't slept. I'd been tossing and turning since maybe 11 after Nick and I had made it home and had a few slices of toast then headed straight for bed.
It had been a long day, it didn't seem like there should have been any reason why I couldn't drift off but I figured if I was going to fall asleep it would have happened by now.
Instead I filled the coffeepot, put it on the stove and lit the gas.
Nick had a coffee machine, but the house on the hill had an Aga and it was a difficult habit to break; I didn't want to. I could remember my mum doing it from a very young age. Getting up in the morning, taking me with her to go and make two cups of coffee and bringing one all the way back for my father.
I could remember her standing in the kitchens brewing coffee for all of us the summer the boys came to live with us. Connor had dragged her into some debate about whether she'd want to fight 100 duck sized horses or 1 horse sized duck. She'd agreed with Will: duck sized horses, Tom and Connor thought the opposite and she'd called them both muppets.
He didn't deserve what happened to him. Every now and again there'd be a flash of an image in my head of Tom looming over me on that stadium floor and staring down with those cold dead eyes of his.
The image that usually followed was the sight of Stephen standing in that hospital doorway glaring at me. I knew he was sorry. I could still see the guilt in his expression all these months later, but it was hard to forget exactly how much his words had hurt me. And yet, as hard as I'd tried, I couldn't forget how tightly he had held on to me when he'd brought me back through that anomaly.
I leant my elbows against the breakfast bar and stretched, flipping open my phone and going to the contacts.
I scrolled through the list, down past Connor, past Nana and Nick until I reached it.
I stared at Tom's name.
It wasn't fair.
'Hey...' The sound of Nick's voice made me turn my head. His hand came down to rest on the small of my back and I straightened up.
'Hi. Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you.' I snapped my phone closed.
'I was awake anyway,' he replied. 'You okay, sweetheart?'
I nodded. 'I couldn't sleep.' Then my eyebrows rose and I shrugged a little. 'Probably not a bad thing to stay up though, I've done just about everything else I shouldn't have following a concussion, so...'
He pressed his lips together. 'Are you still feeling it?'
'Not really. Um... my vision's back to normal and my headache's pretty much gone now. I don't feel sick or dizzy.'
'Okay. Good. That's good.'
'I just can't seem to get comfortable. I think I'm just too wired...' The coffee pot hissed, a trickle escaped through the seal and evaporated against the flames. 'I'm gonna go into the lab.'
'Yeah?'
'Yeah. There's no way I'm getting any sleep now. Might as well do something useful.'
He nodded. 'Okay.'
'You going to try and get some more sleep?'
He sort of wobbled his head in response. 'We'll see,' he said sceptically.
I scrunched my nose at him. 'Sorry if I woke you up.'
'You didn't.' He smiled softly, then leant in and pressed a sweet lingering kiss to my mouth.
'Still, sorry.' I reached for the gas nob, turned off the hob and moved the coffee maker aside. 'I'll see you there at some point then?'
He nodded. 'Yeah, I'll bring you a coffee on the way in?'
'That would be great, thank you.'
He smiled. 'Of course.'