Page 48 of Swim To Me

Grey turns to face me, the evening football game he’d been watching still playing across the TV screen in my bedroom. “I could eat. Are you?”

I nod, wiggling my toes beneath the rumpled sheets of my bed to regain blood flow.

It’s strange. I’ve never spent a full day in bed, unless I’m hungover or ill, and even then I usually prefer to drag myself out to the living room and lie down on the sofa. But today, the thought of leaving my bed, the space Grey has carved out for himself in such a short amount of time… the thought of leaving hadn’t even crossed my mind.

The papers on my lap rustle with my movements, two lines of neat, red handwriting staring up at me from where I’ve been attempting to edit a manuscript while Grey watches the football and both of us recover from our fourth round of mind blowing sex.

My mind, like my legs, feels like jelly, straying from one thought to another without allowing me to concentrate, hence only the two lines of editing. Although, I’ll allow myself a tiny bit of slack seeing as it is Sunday, and tomorrow—

“What do you fancy?” Grey asks, breaking me out of my spiral.

I shrug, simply out politeness, because I know full well what I fancy to eat. “I’ve got some takeaway menus in the kitchen. We could dig through those?”

Grey smiles. “Sounds good.”

Pulling myself out of bed, I throw on a ditsy floral camisole and shorts set I find within my bottom drawer, and head into the kitchen, beginning the search for my stack of menus. Grey follows a step or two behind me, hands latching onto my hips, his front to my back, pressing a kiss to the nape of my neck.

“I’ve put your manuscripts on your bedside table,” he whispers into my riot of tangled curls. “Didn’t think you’d want them getting crumpled in the sheets.”

My fingers stall their search. This, today, lying in bed together, fucking, kissing, ordering takeout, it all feels oddly… domestic. Next thing I know I’ll be cuddling the man and asking for my back to be scratched.

Shut it down, Delilah. Right now. Shut it—

Grey strokes along my forearm, causing a ripple of goosebumps to erupt. “Where did you go? What’s got you so up in your head all of a sudden?”

“N-nothing,” I croak, forcing myself to keep flicking through the menus nonchalantly. “Thank you for moving my manuscripts.”

“You’re welcome, Delilah.” Another kiss, to my shoulder this time. “Decided what we’re having yet?”

I spin in Grey’s arms, inhaling to slow my racing thoughts, but all that does is press our two bodies closer together. This is not what’s supposed to be happening today. It’s supposed to be about getting each other out of our systems and acting on our impulses. About doing something I’ve never done before and allowing myself to enjoy it, to experience it, to—

“I really like this Chinese place down the road, they do the best sweet and sour chicken with noodles and—”

“We’ll go there, then.” The twin dimples in Grey’s cheeks pops as he grins. “Get a portion of fried rice and some salt and pepper chips too.”

I ring in our order, making conversation with the woman on the phone when she recognises my name and address, while Grey chuckles in the corner.

“You’re a regular customer,” he states amusedly as soon as I’m off the phone.

I pull open my cutlery drawer, picking out two sets of knives and forks and vehemently ignore the pang in my chest at the unfamiliar sight.

A pair.

“It’s a great place.” I fill up two glasses with water. “And I-I sometimes work late and I’m too tired to cook when I come home, so… Are you a big cook?”

Grey bobs his head. “My mum always had us helping out in the kitchen from a young age and then when I got into swimming a lot of the food followed whatever dietary plan my food specialist thought best, so it made life easier to meal prep everything in advance.”

I retrieve two clean plates from the dishwasher. “Did any of your other brothers swim?”

“Yeah, Blake. The rest weren’t really interested, but Blake’s only a year older than me so anything I was interested in, so was he. A bit of competitive sibling rivalry, I guess, but it was never malicious. If anything it only urged both of us to push ourselves harder and succeed.”

“Is he your closest sibling? I know you said you’re all close, but—”

“Yeah, Blake and I are very close.”

I nod, hearing the warmth run through Grey’s tone while he speaks about his family. It’s lovely and I’m happy for him, but still, it stings just a tad when I compare it to my own.

“Is he a swim teacher?” I continue to distract my wandering brain. “Or in the swimming world…? Sorry.” I laugh breathily at myself. “I don’t know what you call it.”

---