I noticed that 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 bedroom window.

The house was north facing, my bedroom was on the back, and the view overlooked the entire estate. We'd had a little new year 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 there'll be much to fit in the car,' 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 was Victorian teak. There was 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. I didn't want any of the lamps or clocks or rugs or ottomans. Nick's house had everything I needed and none of it was encumbered by past memories. It was a fresh start. '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. 'Are those ready to go then?' He doubled-checked and pointed to the same boxes.

'Yeah.'

'I'll make a start putting them in your car.' It was no mean feat; it was 5 minutes to the front door from my room. I'd tried not to make the boxes too heavy but I guessed we'd still need to stop part-way.

He started moving towards the door. I took a side step and 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 put 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, and a real tingling sort of electricity starting to spike in my veins. My hand fell down from his shoulder to his bicep and I squeezed– just trying to ground myself but 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 ran tentatively along my bottom lip like he was unsure whether I would pull back. In all honestly, that was the last thing on my mind. 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, lifting me into his arms and I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist.

I pulled back, not a want but a need for some sort of air in my lungs, tucked my hair behind my ears before I crushed my mouth to his.

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, bringing me down in his lap and the seem of my jeans took me by surprise as I sat against it and it knocked against my clit– I jumped at the unexpected a bolt of pleasure 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 after this. It was the last chance of semblance. I opened my eyes– just to see his expression, just to check in case he had reservations– my gaze locked with his.

Too late.

'Are you okay?'

The question almost caught me off-guard, I didn't understand what he was asking- until my attention shifted like some sort of spiritual intervention to explain, and I caught sight of the photo on the bedside table.

The five of us.

I could feel him watching me, studying every inch of my reaction. I brought my gaze swiftly back to him to 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 to rest against his cheek and leant in to place a sweet kiss to his lips.

'I need you to tell me, okay? Tell me if I'm not being gentle enough. I'm trying but- jesus-'

I kissed him again. 'You are. Don't worry. I'm not going to break.'

Suddenly I found myself pinned between Nick and the mattress.

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 gathering it in my fist, until he broke from my mouth, reached around to grab it by the neck and pull it off.

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 the 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.

'You are so beautiful. I can't–' he blew out a slow breath that fanned out across my collar bones. 'Anna...'

His hands ghosted the waist band of my jeans, each button of my fly popped in turn before he started to pull them down. The jeans were tight around my ass– he struggled to get them to my thighs and I could see he was struggling; the look on his face made me laugh, which brought 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 so he could pull them off. His hand trailed up my thigh as he crawled back over me and drew the sleeves on shirt down my each arm to remove it.

His hips shifted, I took the opportunity to grab him by the waistband of his trousers and unbutton them. He struggled to kick them from his legs, shoes and socks with them to join the pile on the floor until he was left in just his boxer shorts.

This was really happening. God- the amount of times I'd thought about it was embarrassing. It had felt inevitable, from the moment I'd seen him, heard his voice for the first time it was like I'd known we'd be here one day, he'd be talking into my ear saying words I couldn't concentrate on for long enough to distinguish them. He was a pull- a beacon- a siren that had been calling my name my whole life and I had finally stumbled out into it.

Slow fingers hooked beneath the straps of my unhooked bra, slipping them down my arm, trailing across my skin until I was freed from it. The mattress dipped beside me as he leant one arm against the pillow beneath 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.

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 bare chest pressed firmly against his, he groaned but I swallowed the sound as al the while his hand trailed up from my knee along the inside of my thigh . 'This okay?'

I nodded.

He hooked a finger round the waistband of my pants and pulled them straight down my legs before he found my clit with pinpoint accuracy 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, a few more circles against my clit and was bucking against him, searching desperately for some kind of friction and craving more. I could feel him, hard and heavy against my thigh. God, he needed it to. 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 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 again, causing me to arch into him. 'Nick!'

His lips trailed across my forehead, pressing soft kisses to my skin. 'So beautiful,' he murmured. 'What a little pretty 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.

'Yes.'

'I just- I don't want- after-'

My hand fell from his shoulder to his bicep and I dug my nails in. 'Oh my god please, 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 as he lined up the tip of his cock at my entrance then 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. God it was the best thing. 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 before he leant in, I turned my head, meeting his mouth with mine and kissing him as deeply and passionately as I could until a particularly firm thrust knocked it back into the pillows. God it was good. My hands trailed down the arm that was holding him up, hand pressed into the mattress beside me, and I grabbed a bruising hold of his wrist. My eyes scrunched shut. He brought his forehead down to rest 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 as I came.

He followed after me, 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. 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, this way he couldn't. Instead, he pulled out and shifted, rolling onto his back and bring me to lay on top of him.

We stayed like that for some time, completely 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 had done it all with no more than a look.

His hand covered mine on his chest and he brought it up to his mouth to kiss it. ' You alright?'

I turned my head to look up into bright blue eyes. 'Of course,' I said.

He reached up, 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 leant 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. I turned my head to look out just as two robins landed in the snow atop the balcony wall. They started to play, hopping around one another, flitting up and down until one got comfortable and the other landed beside it and nestled in.

'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?'

I looked the painting over. There must have been a hundred different pieces of art on the walls in the room, but by some strange sort of coincidence he was staring right at my favourite. 'You've got impeccable taste. That one'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 before heading 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 it was going to happen for me at all tonight then 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 had argued the latter and she'd called them both muppets.

Tom had debated so eloquently that she'd finally admitted to understanding his perspective, but didn't change her mind.

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, all the way 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.' I snapped my phone closed. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you.'

'I was awake anyway,' he replied. 'Are 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. My... err... my vision's back to normal and my headache's pretty much gone now..'

'Okay. Good. That's good.'

'I can't 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 don't know what to do with myself.' I should have been used to the insomnia by now. I'd seen so many hours that I shouldn't have already in my lifetime. I'd tried everything. I'd tried reading and finished novels the same night that I started them. I'd completed whole discographies, binged entire series and trilogies of films and been bored the whole time and still unable to fall asleep.

'Have you tried counting backwards from 1000?' Nick suggested.

'Yeah. You have no idea how depressing it is to get to 0.'

His expression was sympathetic. He put a hand on my cheek and leaned it to kiss me a little. It was nice to have my eyes closed for those 10 seconds. He pulled away and moved his hand to the back of my head as I took a step forwards to push my face into his chest.

I sighed.

'Want me to pour you a dab of whiskey?'

'Oh my god,' I said with a laugh and pulled back just enough to look up at him. 'You are so Scottish.'

'What's wrong with that?' he asked. 'And what's wrong with whiskey? It always helped me to sleep better.'

'Sleep?' I repeated in response, 'or pass out?'

'What's the difference?' he said. Then he smiled like he was laughing at the humour of his own joke. 'No, but to be fair you're right; I had a phase of needing to be bluttered before I could even close my eyes. I don't do it anymore. I wouldn't even consider it.'

I knew what he meant. People coped in different way. When something happens that is so out of your control sometimes you result to making bad choices just to prove to yourself you still have to power too, even when you know it won't help.

'Thank you, but I'll stick with the coffee.'

'That won't help you get to sleep.'

'No,' I agreed. 'But I don't think that was gonna happen anyway. Might as well do something useful. Have you seen my notebook anywhere?'

'Which one?'

'The black A4 one on the ring binder.'

He paused thoughtfully. 'Yes...'

'Do you know where you saw it?'

'No.' He glanced back behind me through the doorway towards the lounge like he was trying to jog his memory. 'It could have even been upstairs.'

I couldn't remember taking it up but it was possible; it definitely sounded like something I could have done.

'You going to try and get some more sleep?'

He sort of wobbled his head in response then looked back down at me. '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.' The coffee maker hissed, I could hear the coffee boiling inside and I had to pull back from him to reach for the gas nob. I turned off the hob and moved the coffee maker aside. 'You look so cute in those pyjamas though.'

'Oh really?' he aired teasingly. 'You like this?'

'Mmhmm.' I grinned and nodded back at him.

'Well good because all of this-' he gestured vaguely all over his body '-is for you.'

I gazed back at him adoringly. He had the short end of the stick- I was sure I looked a little ratty and pretty washed in an old oversized Simpsons T-shirt that had holes in the armpits. I really should make more of an effort, or at least find a shirt that didn't have quite so many holes in it. 'I am so lucky.'

'Yes,' he replied. 'Yes you are.' Then he smiled back at me. 'Come here.' I stepped into his open arms again and he kissed the top of my head. 'You are so beautiful, and so brilliant, and I need to know that you know that, Anna.'

I wasn't so sure, but who was I to chastise his opinion even if I didn't agree with it. 'I love you.'

He wrapped his arms even tighter around me and tucked my head beneath his chin. 'I love you too.'