Page 25 of Good Girl
CHAPTER SIX
Sandro
JUNOSHUTSHERSELFin the study as soon as we get back.
I’d hoped to be able to distract her and get her straight back to bed but it seems she’s determined actually to do some work while she’s here. Which leaves me with fuck all to do.
Just knowing she’s in there and that I can’t get near her is driving me crazy and I find myself pacing up and down the living area, not sure what to do with myself. I want to be with her again. I have an oddly intense craving to see that look in her eyes when she’s listening to me talking again, as if she’s absolutely fascinated by what I have to say. I love that I know more about the art here in Florence than she does. It gave me a real buzz to be able to impress someone as smart as her with my knowledge about it.
That doesn’t happen a whole lot to me. Usually when I’m with a woman she’s not interested in anything I have to say. It’s my skill in bed she wants. It used to upset me when I was younger but now, in my mid-twenties, I’ve come to terms with the fact I’m never going to be the kind of guy from which people expect to hear anything of any note. It’s always been like that and I thought it always would be. Until I met Juno.
She has a way of making me feel good about myself. I don’t know how she does it exactly. It’s as if she sees and responds to something in me that most people miss.
Her horrified reaction to my story about what had happened at my school shook me up, though. I’d never considered before that it had been anything other than a rejection from a woman that I’d thought, in my naivety, I’d been in love with.
My father hadn’t made any kind of reference to it being an abuse of power so it had never occurred to me that it was. Her age and standing had been of no consequence to him, so it hadn’t been to me either. In a way I think he’d actually been proud of me for apparently having seduced such an attractive woman and I’d taken that as a huge compliment. My father isn’t an easy man to impress and I’ve not had many opportunities to do it in my life so it was important to me. I guess that’s how I managed to talk myself into getting over it so quickly.
But Juno’s reaction made me think about it in a whole different light.
I guess that’s why I want to be with her right now. I want to talk to her some more about my life, to see whether there are other things on which she can give me her unique perspective. Even though I know she’s only here to learn how to get her sex life on track I have this powerful urge to show her more of the real me. Which is unusual. Normally I’m totally focussed on disguising my soft underbelly for fear of being laughed at or rejected, but I don’t believe she’d do that to me. She’s too kind, too considerate—and such a genuine, determined sort of person—one who’s prepared to put herself out there and be vulnerable, and to ask for help despite the risk of failure and humiliation. That kind of bravery is something I haven’t come across very often. It’s actually pretty fucking inspiring.
I pace a while longer, then have the bright idea of taking her a drink and suggesting she take a break. Surely it can’t be good to work that intensely for that long?
Poking my head around the door to the study, I see she’s sitting in front of her laptop with a pair of wire-framed glasses perched on her nose, staring intently at the screen.
‘Juno?’ I say when she doesn’t seem to notice my presence.
She jumps a little in her seat then lets out a low laugh. ‘Sorry, I didn’t see you there.’
‘Can I do something for you? Fetch you a drink, a snack? Bring you to screaming orgasm at your desk?’
She grins shyly and I’m delighted to see her cheeks flush.
‘Just a cold drink for now, please,’ she replies, to my disappointment. I’d really hoped she’d take me up on the orgasm. ‘I need a while longer to finish this article I’m reading.’
I go to the kitchen and fix her an orange and soda, feeling disgruntled that I’ve not been able to tempt her to take a proper break. Maybe she needs a little more encouragement...
On the way back to the study I stop off in my bedroom and grab something I think she might actually feel forced to take a break for.
‘What’s your PhD on?’ I ask her as I hold out the drink.
‘Thanks,’ she says, looking up from the screen to take it from me and swallow a few gulps of the cold fizzy liquid. Once she’s done, she places it on the desk and leans back in her chair, stretching out her arms behind her and wincing a little as if her neck and shoulders are stiff. I try not to stare at the way her breasts press against the cotton of her T-shirt.
‘I’m conducting research into sudden cardiovascular death in athletes and looking for a way to recognise early the signs of heart disease through the study of human genetics. If we have a better way to identify it, we’ve got more chance of catching it early and treating it.’
I sit down hard on the edge of the desk, a wave of awe rippling through me. ‘Wow, that’s really fucking cool.’
She smiles. ‘It will be if I find a way to stop it happening.’
‘Why did you choose that as a subject?’
A small frown pinches her brows. ‘One of my friends in senior school was a brilliant athlete and one day, right out of the blue, she just fell down dead while playing hockey.’ She swallows and I see the pain she clearly still feels about this flash across her face.
‘It turned out she had an undiscovered heart defect. She was only fifteen and the sweetest, most caring person you’d ever meet. We’d been friends since infant school and she was my rock—the person I’d go to when I was struggling with who I was and how I felt about losing my mother. My whole world fell apart all over again when I lost her. So I decided to do something good and positive with my life to try and stop it from happening to other people.’ She smiles, then turns back to the computer screen.
A throbbing sensation is growing in my throat, as if my heart has risen up from my chest to relocate itself there. This woman is truly amazing. She totally puts me to shame. What the hell have I done with my life up till now? Fucking nothing. I’ve been playing at being a grown-up. Even though I’ve been trying pretty hard recently with the artists’ co-operative, I’ve still not managed to make it work. So at the age of twenty-five I’ve achieved nothing I’m truly proud of.
This has to change. It’s time I grew a pair and made a monumental effort to make things work out. But in order to do that I have to start believing I’m smart enough. Clearly my attitude needs a serious adjustment.
