Page 23 of Learning to Love

Five minutes is enough. Or is it? Ellie joins me on the verandah, and I check we’re out of sight.

I wrap my arms around Ellie's waist and kiss her with urgency. I grab her by the ponytail and press my hardness against her, so she knows the effect she has on me.

I hear steps and we move apart, our breathing ragged.

She puts a hand on my chest. "Later."

The sound of footsteps goes away, but it's been too close. I must keep my hands and dick off her until later.

From the verandah, she points out the various outbuildings that are part of the working winery, and she tells me more about the history, and the variety, of wines they have here.

I hug her from behind and inhale the intoxicating scent of her. "Wow. It must have been a magical place to grow up."

"You're joking, right? I hated it. All my friends were in town. We moved here when I was fourteen. I couldn't drive, I was just stuck here, dependent on my parents taking me places." I can't make out the tone of her voice. Sometimes, like this moment, I really hate not being able to interpret other people's cues. I don't know when people are sarcastic. I can't tell in some situations if they're joking or not. More importantly, a lot of times, I can't tell when Ellie is happy or sad unless she explicitly tells me.

I kiss her head. "I suppose you're right, I hadn't thought of it that way. Your parents seem alright. And they love you very much."

"You'll catch a cold out there, you two. Time for dinner." Martha, Ellie's mum, echoes all mums in the world whose children are trying to steal more time together with their loved one.

Christmas Eve dinner is spectacular. Martha's food is Michelin star quality, and I say so. I'm not one for unnecessary compliments, and Ellie understands. The wines are delicious. I try a Malbec with the main and some bubbles Methode with the dessert.

We exchange some presents with Mike and Martha, but Ellie and I will open ours tomorrow, in O'Neill's Bay.

"They like you." Three single words from her on the way to our room, but they make me very happy.

"They're lovely people. I'm glad I met them and found this part of you. I'll buy some Ako wine off them, it would be good to take some to my mom and dad." I follow Ellie up the steps trailing behind her. She's just perfect. I don't know what I've done to get so lucky.

Her room is airy, full of photos with friends and family, Daisy, and some posters of boy bands. Some I recognize, some I don't. "At least there are no photos of ex boyfriends on the walls."

Ellie bursts out laughing. I guess I said that out loud.

My attention is drawn by the bed. It's too small for two people. I try to make light of the situation.

"So, what's the deal here, do I sleep on top of you? Or on the sofa downstairs with Daisy?"

She wraps her arms around my neck and presses her body against mine. I can't think straight.

"I think it's my parents' way of saying we should sleep apart,” she says, “There's a mattress on the floor to the other side."

I don't like it one bit. I want more of Ellie, not less.

"Yeah … nah. You sleep on top of me then. I'm heavier."

We undress and I slip into the bed. She piles in on top of me, and I relish the weight of her and hug her tight. Soon, her breathing slows. She’s asleep, but I’m not following her to dreamland. I can’t close my eyes, worrying about the day ahead, and visiting my parents, and what that means. Christmas Day just became a test for our relationship.

Chapter 11

Ellie

Iwake up with a pain in my shoulder after sleeping cramped next to Sam in my bed. Ouch. I try to massage the knot away, but it's of little use.

It's Christmas morning. And Sam's birthday. We have a big day today. We’ll drive back to Auckland to swap cars, and then be on our way. It’ll take three hours to get to O'Neill's Bay. We’ll be there by lunchtime.

Sam’s still asleep, and it's quite rare to see him in such a moment of vulnerability. His face looks peaceful, serene. No furrowed brow or bitter set lips. He looks good enough to eat. I can't help myself, and I kiss him softly. He automatically responds to my kiss and pulls me in.

I kiss his nose. "Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, my love. This one's going to be super special."

His tender, calloused hands stroke my face. "Merry Christmas. And thank you. You make it special."

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