Page 59 of The Trouble With Love

‘Mmmm, Kai . . .’

His mouth came down. ‘Ssshh,’ he whispered when he raised his head again. ‘I’m just getting started.’

‘Wow.’

‘Oh yes,’ the grin was wicked. ‘In the words of the song, you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.’

Slowly at first, achingly slowly, he moved into me, resting his weight on his arms, looking into my eyes, his pupils so huge that his eyes were nearly black and then they descended like twin shooting stars until his face was against mine and his hair traced the contours of my skin. ‘Still okay?’

I just groaned, feeling the weight, the hardness, the sheer intensity of him.

‘Good.’ And then he let rip. Over and over and he didn’t let up, didn’t stop for breath, pinning my arms above my head with one hand, reaching between our bodies with the other, a wave of motion and power and force until his eyes closed, his rhythm faltered and I was arching under him, reaching, stretching as the arch broke, fell, dropped through the maelstrom, plunged screaming into the quiet depths where he was waiting.

‘Oh,’ I was nearly speechless. ‘That was . . .’

He turned towards me. ‘That was the beginning,’ he said, ‘because I think I’m in love with you.’ His face was so solemn, so shadowed that it was almost frightening. ‘I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know how it’s going to go and it terrifies me, but all I can tell you is,’ he leaned forward and kissed my mouth softly, ‘this feels nothing like what’s gone before.’

We lay in silence for a while. Outside the rain started up again and rinsed more snow from the woodland floor, hopefully concealing the fact that our footprints ran from the shed straight to Kai’s front door, while underneath the covers, Kai’s hand found mine. ‘You okay?’

‘Stunned, I think. All of this. None of it is what I wished for.’

Kai twisted himself up in the sheet to sit up. ‘And would you have? If you’d known, would you have wished for me?’ He folded those devastating long legs into a yoga pose under the covers.

I looked at the naked torso above me, and ran a finger down his ribs. ‘Maybe. But I didn’t know. I didn’t know that it could feel like this. I’ve always kept feelings out of it, never let things get complicated . . .’

A single raised eyebrow. ‘Complicated? Why should this be complicated? You’ve not got a large angry husband tucked away somewhere, have you?’ His hand left my arm and he was suddenly climbing out of the bed, pulling on his clothes, dragging his shirt on over his concave belly and muscled shoulders. ‘You’d better go and talk to Cerys. Any minute now she’s going to run out of alternate lyrics to “Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star”.’

‘Are you all right?’ I watched him hook an earring back into place and comb his hair straight with his fingers.

‘Yeah, yeah. Great. Why?’

‘Because you look like you’re getting ready to run. It’s okay. I’m not going to hold you to some lifelong commitment just because we, well, because we’ve done this.’

The eyes came down to look at me properly now and their narrow goldenness took me aback again. ‘What if I want you to? I thought . . . I’ve had no practice at this, you know? I . . .’ He waved a hand at his chest, ‘. . . I feel it, but I don’t know what to do about it. I told you I want this, Holly.’ His expression was hot. ‘I want us.’

‘That’s partly what I meant when I said it was complicated. I think you need answers first.’ I struggled upright to watch him. He’d frozen in the middle of the room like a stag at bay, shirt half way to tucked in and the buttons of his jeans still undone.

‘Answers?’ He sucked in a deep breath. ‘I give the answers. That’s what I do, why I write, so that I can deal with the cryptic bastard of a crossword that the universe has thrown at us all.’

‘Before you can let yourself have anything which might be long term you need to stop dealing with problems and let yourself find a solution.’

‘To what?’ His eyes had cooled now, they were hard and reflective like yellow diamond.

I stood up and rested my hand against his chest. I could feel the convulsions shuddering inside, the emotions he was trying to hold down. ‘To who you are, Kai. Isn’t that why you’ve never really formed a relationship? Because you don’t know who you are, where you come from? You need to meet your mother.’

‘Shit.’ He folded down onto the bed, head bent. ‘Shit.’

‘I’m sorry.’ I knelt down in front of him but he ducked, keeping his expression hidden.

‘No.’ The word was muffled. ‘You’re right. Of course you are. I need . . . some kind of closure before I can start living my life properly, I know that. I know that,’ he repeated, words tight as though his teeth were clenched. Then his head raised and two hell-bound eyes met mine. ‘But why does it have to be so fucking hard?’

‘Kai.’ I had to repeat his name twice more before he looked at me properly again. ‘It’s okay. You were right, I am starting to realise that all that one-night-stand stuff . . . it’s shallow and pointless and my way of avoiding the issue.’ I let my gaze wander away from him, across the room, taking in the grim coldness of the light, the mawkish sight of a soggy robin on the balcony rail. ‘I know it. Maybe I always did. And now even more so.’

‘Now that you know I’m stupendous in bed, you mean.’ Sharp humour, but something.

‘Yeah, now I know you’re hung like a stallion,’ I agreed. ‘Which is what matters, of course. But I’ll be there. If . . . when you decide to meet her.’

He looked down again, quickly, letting his hair hide his face. Then he nodded, one short movement, dragged in a deep breath and blew it out. ‘I want to know that I’m not — That it wasn’t because of me. That’s all. No excuses, no reasons. I just want to know that I’m not—’ The merest trace of a sob, lost in sudden, violent movement as he leaped up and paced towards the window, fingers busy on the buttons of his shirt. ‘And I’m not the only one who needs closure, am I?’ He spoke with his back turned, body almost pressed against the glass.

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