He set his mouth into a smile. ‘The only way to be.’
Then she was up and out of the bed, smoothing the nightdress. At the door, she checked the coast was clear and gave him a little wave before slipping out.
The handle moved down and up as she closed the door silently.
He curled his arms over his head, and muttered, ‘Ah fuck.’
And that cold little rock in the middle of his chest cracked.
Chapter 59
July 2016
Emily
FHD is already sitting at the bar as I descend the spiral staircase into the basement gin bar he suggested. I take the steps carefully to stop my heels from catching in my hem. I’m wearing the green dress I bought for Scott’s parents’ barbecue last summer. It’s simple but elegant – everyone said it was lovely, and I remember Scott’s eyes roaming over it, giving it the male seal of approval. Maybe I’m a tad overdressed tonight though.
I make it to the bottom of the stairs without tripping and FHD says, ‘Wow, great dress.’
We sample different gins with their corresponding mixers and garnishes and taste each other’s drinks; we declare our favourites. I don’t finish my third cocktail. I’m at the perfect stage of merry.
‘How do you feel about Billy?’ I ask.
He frowns. ‘Who’s Billy?’
I laugh. ‘You.’
‘Oh, me. You mean how do I feel about youcallingme Billy?’
‘Yes.’
He thinks about it, draws his mouth into a line, then nods his head. ‘I like it,’ he says, ‘makes me sound like a cowboy.’ He raises his glass. ‘Yee haw!’
I tap my glass to his with a chuckle. ‘Yee haw.’
‘Shall we talk about why you want to call me Billy?’
‘No.’
That straight-line mouth and nod combo again.
I lean in. ‘Billy?’
He inclines his head towards mine. ‘Yeah?’
I whisper into his ear, ‘Let’s go.’
The dress is in a green puddle around my feet. I didn’t know it would slip off like that. FHD/Billy is behind me, scooping my hair to one side and kissing my neck. The copper artwork above his bed is abstract, but it looks like an aerial view of waves breaking on a beach. I’m having trouble staying in the moment. I drag myself back into my body and concentrate on the sensations. Stepping out of the dress, I turn to face him. Billy’s gaze sweeps over my body and suddenly I’m self-conscious standing there in my best underwear. According to the magazine I read in the hairdressers, I have way too much pubic hair. The confident woman whispering in his ear half an hour ago is long gone. I pull at the buttons on his shirt and tug at his belt. It’s as though I’m eager to get to it, but I just need him to be as undressed as me.
It’s normal, right? To think of the last time you had sex, even if it was a long time ago? Even if it means Scott’s on my mind as Billy circles my nipple with his tongue? I tense up as these thoughts intrude on the moment. I tell myself to let go. It takes all my concentration, but I relax. The sex is good, but I don’t come, and I don’t pretend to.
We lie side by side in his bed, catching our breath. He turns on his side, his face close to mine on the pillow, eyes glinting in the lamplight. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t… did you?’
‘It’s fine really, it’s been a while and I… it’s different with…’ This is excruciating.
‘Would you like me to––’
‘No, honestly. I’m good. It was great.’