Page 58 of Keep It

“Doesn’t roll off the tongue as easily as rug munching,” he quips.

“Ew!” I squeal and try to push him upright. He laughs and lets his body become dead weight, so I dig into his sides in retaliation. We battle until he nearly rolls off the couch and calls a ceasefire. We collapse again with flushed faces and racing hearts.

His head resumes its position against my chest. I could push him off for real and put some clothes on, but I can’t think of a single reason why. My fingers push through his hair, lightly scratching with my nails. It’s so quiet, I think he’s fallen asleep. What man comes to a woman’s house, eats her out and then falls asleep? Who did I blow in a past life to deserve this?

“Anya,” Danny mumbles. Not asleep then.

“Yeah?”

“I think the butler forgot my drink order.”

My groan dissolves into a laugh as he raises his head to look at me, a silly grin on his face and his hair wild from my hands. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you suffer me.” He presses a kiss to my lips. “Drink now, please.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t help my smile as I push at his shoulders. “Get off me, you big brute.”

He eases off me and I grab his discarded t-shirt before heading to the kitchen. By the time I return with a glass of water, Danny has pulled his jeans back on and is inspecting the room, admiring the trinkets acquired from Claudette’s many travels.

The room is light and airy with chic, practical furniture, but dotted around the room is an assortment of gemstones, figurines, and general tat that Sabine would never allow to clutter up her house. The two bed terraced house I grew up in feels miles away from this luxurious Parisian apartment.

“It’s my aunt’s place, Claudette.” I explain. “She’s rolling in money – I don’t know why, and I haven’t asked, but mum and I are just regular people.”

“Your aunt lives here full time?”

“She has a house in the south and a chalet in Switzerland. She doesn’t even rent this place out.”

“She’s letting you rent though.”

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing.” I wave my hand. “I think she just likes being useful so she can hold it over my mum’s head. I don’t have any siblings, so I don’t really get it.”

“I could tell you were an only child.” He nudges me. “So bossy.”

I roll my eyes. “You have a sister, right?”

“Younger, Pip. We used to be at each other’s throats all the time.” He picks up a figurine. “We were more like strangers than siblings, because we were always away working or at school. And then when we were together, our parents would just be comparing us to each other – our careers and what we were doing next. It took years for us to realize that it wasn’t me against her, but us against them.”

“So you’re close now?”

“We make an effort. I stayed with her earlier this year in LA but then I had to move to France,” he looks at me wily. “She’s coming over again for a collab with a fashion house soon so you’ll probably see her around.”

I bite down on the twist in my belly. Meeting his sister?

As if Danny knew where my head was at, he says, “She mentioned coming to set, so.”

An awkward silence commences. Our arrangement works when it’s just the two of us in my apartment or his hotel room, but then the outside world comes knocking and douses us with cold water.

Danny’s hand lingers on Claudette’s beat-up guitar resting in the corner of the room. His fingers trace the strings, plucking a discordant twang. Before I can ask if he plays, he picks up a photo frame. The photo is dated and old. “Is this your mum?” he asks.

I take a closer look. “Yeah that’s her.”

In the photo, Sabine dances with her brown hair curled in an 80s wave, holding the hand of Claudette, who is bent in half with laughter.

“You look like her.” Danny says.

“Yeah, we get that a lot.”

“You miss her,” he says.

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