Текст книги "Fall From India Place"

Автор книги: Samantha Young

Соавторы: Samantha Young
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

CHAPTER 15

Years ago, when I was attempting to understand the rings Joss made Braden jump through before finally admitting they were meant for each other, Joss had told me that she had been so happy for the first time in so long that it paralyzed her with fear.

Instead of being able to enjoy what they had, Joss was thinking one hundred miles down the road in front of them, fearing a bend in that road, one that they’d take too sharply and end up careening headlong into disaster.

I understood how she could feel that way, now more than ever.

The next week with Marco was exhilarating in its simple beauty. He spent every night at my place, including the weekend, and we made love. Sometimes it was sweet and sometimes it was wild, and every time it was mind-blowing. When we weren’t going at it like teenagers who’d just discovered the power of sex, we hung out like always. It was addictive. He was addictive. I felt so content I was scared of it.

Distracted by Marco, distracted by my tumultuous emotions, I was behind on work.

The following Thursday I knew I had to skip out on lunch and use that time and the free period I had next to catch up on my marking. My head was down, my stomach was growling, and I was lost in papers when a knock on my door brought me out of them.

Although my heart jumped at the sight of Marco standing in my doorway, I frowned. “What are you doing here?” My eyes ran the length of him. He was wearing his work clothes. I tried to ignore the fact that I found him sexy like this.

Marco shrugged, taking long-legged strides toward me and I noted the brown bag in his hand. “Anisha let me in at Reception.” He pulled a wrapped sandwich out of the bag and placed it on the desk in front of me. A bottle of water followed it. “You sounded stressed this morning.” Grabbing a chair he put it opposite my desk and sat down, pulling another sandwich out of the paper bag. “I just wanted to make sure you ate something.” A pucker appeared between his brows. “You’ve lost weight recently.”

Touched by his thoughtfulness, I smiled as I picked up the sandwich. “The weight loss is because of all the sex. Someone hasn’t left me alone for the past week and a half.”

He grunted. “Like you’re complaining.”

I shrugged noncommittally and he smiled before biting into his sandwich.

“FYI, I got my period this morning, so no sex for us for the next few days.”

“Nice timing. I’ve got my family thing this weekend.”

There was that sinking feeling back to piss me off some more. “Family thing. Right.”

Marco shot me a knowing look. “Soon,” he promised. Changing the subject quickly, he gestured to my marking. “You can work, babe.”

He sat quietly, eating his lunch, while I ate mine and did my marking at the same time.

An hour passed in perfect, comfortable silence and by the end of it I couldn’t help myself.

I felt it.

That night I felt it even more. After I’d told him about my period, a small part of me (okay, a large part of me) assumed I wouldn’t see him that night since we couldn’t have sex.

If I’d bet on that I would have lost big.

After my literacy class, I returned to the flat to find Marco waiting for me. He cooked dinner. I read a book while he watched a movie. And when it was time for bed, we fell asleep on our sides, my legs tangled in his as he held me tight.

It was weird not to have Marco stay the night on Friday, nor wake up to him on Saturday morning. We’d been in a relationship for less than two weeks, and yet it felt like it had been so much longer. I guessed that was the history between us playing its part.

“I’m so bored,” Jo huffed, lolling her head back against the arm of the couch.

I’d chosen to hang out with Jo this weekend. Since arriving at her flat, I was somewhat regretting that decision. “Gee, thanks.”

“What?” she frowned at me. “What? Oh, no.” She waved my comment away. “I mean in general. Mick made me finish up work almost four months ago. I’ve literally read every book on the bloody planet. I’ve counted every crack in my ceiling a million times. I’ve seen more TV movies than I ever wanted to see in a lifetime. This baby needs to get out of me and get out of me soon.”

I eyed her baby bump and put a fresh cup of tea down on the table beside her. She was almost eight months pregnant. “Not long now.”

“I know.” She sighed wearily. “I’m so agitated. Ellie, on the other hand, is all relaxed and sweetness and light. I want to kill her,” she growled, and I believed she might have meant it. “Being pregnant together was supposed to be fun, but she’s ruining the fun by being normal and rational.” She said the word “rational” like it tasted like dirt.

I laughed. “The old hormones getting to you, eh?”

“I am such a bitch.” She widened her eyes in horror. “I don’t even recognize myself sometimes and I can’t stop myself when I’m in the middle of being a bitch. Cam’s turned Cole’s old room into a sanctuary. I even caught him looking at locks the other day. I think he’s genuinely considering fitting a lock to that bedroom door so he can keep me out.”

It was difficult not to laugh at the visual and the fact that out of everyone, Jo would be the last person I’d have thought would be crazy with pregnancy hormones.

She was right. Ellie had been very chilled out when she was pregnant with William, and she was just as laid-back this time around, if not more so.

Suddenly Jo blanched. “I’m sorry, Hannah,” she whispered. “I don’t mean to complain.”

“You’re allowed to complain. Don’t ever be sorry.” My phone buzzed before Jo could respond.

Swiping the lock screen, I frowned at the text message that appeared.

“Marco?”

“No. It’s Suzanne.”

So? New guy, no time for your girls?

I held it up to Jo so she could read it. Jo curled her lip in annoyance. “Why are you friends with that girl?”

Shoving my phone back in my pocket without texting back, I shrugged. “The hope had been that she’d finally grow up and become a real person, but so far no such luck.”

“I’d just ignore her until she gets the picture.”

“I’m not sure if I want to completely cut her out of my life. She was once a close friend.”

“Pfft. Hannah, she’s never been much of a friend to you. Ever.”

I exhaled, not really knowing what to do about Suzanne. The truth was, I hadn’t seen Suzanne or Michaela in weeks. I’d spoken to Michaela on the phone, and she was cool because she understood – she was just as busy with work and with Colin.

However, after the run-in with Suzanne when I’d met Marco for drinks, my patience with her had frayed beyond repair.

“Okay.” Jo shuffled up into a sitting position. “On to a much more interesting subject.” She grinned, looking like a mischievous little girl. “Marco: the high school fantasy come to life.”

I laughed. “He’s definitely a fantasy.”

Jo’s eyes lit up. “I’m guessing he knows what to do with that fantastic body of his.”

Feeling more than a little smug I replied, “Oh, yes. Definitely.”

“You should bring him over for Sunday lunch again.”

“Now that we’re actually seeing each other I think it might be a little weird with you guys there… being all nosy.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “We’re not nosy. We’re grown adults. We’ve got better things to do than spy on you.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, we probably would. Some of us have been cooped up for months, though. Your lusty romance with Marco is our only form of entertainment.”

“Great,” I muttered.

“So are you seeing him tonight?”

At the reminder that I wouldn’t be seeing him because of his “family thing,” I felt my mood sink. “He disappears every other weekend. He says it’s a family thing and that he’ll explain when the time is right.”

“Withholding information.” Jo raised an eyebrow. “How do you feel about that?”

“What can I do?” I smiled sadly. “He’s not the only one withholding, remember.”

Jo’s expression turned sympathetic and concerned. “Right.”

Thankfully, the sound of the front door opening broke into the suddenly gloomy atmosphere. “It’s me!” Cam called, his footsteps growing louder as he strode toward the sitting room. He smiled at me as he entered the room, carrying a white plastic bag. “Hannah, how are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m good.” I smiled back. “You?”

His eyes flicked to Jo. “Uh, aye, good.”

It took everything in me not to burst out laughing at his hesitation. I was guessing Jo wasn’t the only one who wanted this baby to come out soon.

“Did you get me them?” Jo asked him, her eyes riveted on the plastic bag.

In answer Cam pulled out a packet of pickled onion crisps and a multi-pack of Kit Kat biscuits. Jo frowned at the biscuits. “They’re ordinary two-finger Kit Kats.”

“Aye?” Cam asked in wary confusion.

“I like the king-size Kit Kats.” She pouted at him. I’d never seen Jo pout in my life. “The four-finger Kit Kats. They taste better.”

His answering smile was tight. “Fine. I’ll go back and get them. It’s only an hour’s walk to the supermarket and back.”

“You don’t need to be snippy,” she snapped.

Cam closed his eyes as if he was trying to draw patience from somewhere, anywhere. He opened them, looking at me. “Remind me that I love her.”

Laughing, I did as asked. “Cam, you love Jo. The pre-hormonally challenged Jo. And give or take a month she’ll be back.”

With renewed determination Cameron nodded and stalked out of the flat.

I shot Jo a look of chastisement.

She blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You’re being irrational to Cam.”

“Eh… no. I told him before he left that I wanted the king-size Kit Kats, not the ordinary kind. It’s not my fault he didn’t listen.”

For Cam’s sake, I shuffled over to Jo and placed my hands on her bump. “Cool it in there, Pipsqueak, before your mummy is left alone to see out the rest of this pregnancy with only a king-size Kit Kat for company.”

CHAPTER 16

To my delight and surprise, that Sunday afternoon Marco turned up at my door. He offered no explanation other than there had been a change of plans. It thrilled me that he’d come to see me immediately upon said change of plans, even if it bothered me that I didn’t know what said original plans had been.

It thrilled me even more when he absconded with me down onto Princes Street to the German market. It was there every December for Christmas, along with the small fairground and the ice rink. We ate iced pastries, drank coffee, and held hands as we shuffled through the crowds. As we were walking through the gardens, the light fading, the Christmas lights twinkling all around, I smiled down at the ice rink in the distance.

“That looks fun.”

Marco pulled me tighter into his side. “That looks cold.”

“I used to ice-skate in the gardens every Christmas when I was younger. I don’t know why I stopped.”

“Because it’s cold.”

“It’s worth it.” I grinned up into his face. “We should do it.”

“There’s no way I’m putting my feet on ice.”

“You won’t. You’ll put skates on ice.”

“There’s no way I’m putting my feet in rented skates.”

I stopped, probably annoying everyone who had to walk around us to continue down the pathway. “Please,” I pleaded.

He stared at me, completely unmoved.

Realizing this was one occasion where being adorable wouldn’t work for me, I changed it up. Instead, I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re afraid to skate.”

“Reverse psychology? Really?”

I huffed, laughing half in amusement and half in annoyance as I pushed against his chest. “Come on. I want to skate with you. We’ll be like a perfect, romantic Christmas card. Except not vomit-inducing.”

Fifteen minutes later…

“Hannah, I don’t think you should do that,” Marco warned, crossing his arms over his chest as I showed off.

For someone who was as big as he was and who hadn’t skated much, Marco had great balance. He hadn’t fallen on his arse once, although he’d stuck to the outer edges of the rink in hopes that I’d let him disembark soon.

I was surprised by how easily skating came back to me, how quickly my body remembered how to balance on the skates. I glided around the rink a couple of times, passing a slow-moving Marco.

I wanted to show him the spin I used to be able to do, but people kept getting in my way.

“It’s fine,” I promised him, smiling.

I was having a ball.

Seeing a gap in the stream of skaters I pushed back on the skates in order to give myself space to move forward into the spin. To my shock, however, I felt myself hit something solid.

An “oof” sounded and then the solid weight collapsed behind me, taking my balance with it. I stumbled around, letting out a yelp, as I swung my arms to balance myself. When I turned, righted, my eyes bugged out in horror.

Unfortunately, the something solid I’d hit was a girl who’d then crashed into a boy, who’d crashed into a couple, who’d crashed into another young woman.

As chaos reigned and limbs splayed I could only watch in mortification at the ice rink devastation I’d created as other skaters skidded to a stop to watch them all hit the ice like dominoes.

Groans and curse words lit the air as the crashers all sat up. My eyes jumped from one to the next to make sure there were no major injuries.

A warm hand wrapped around mine and I found myself jerked back against Marco. “They’re fine,” he said through clenched teeth and yanked on my arm. “Let’s get you out of here. Now.”

Realizing that was probably a good idea, considering the murderous looks aimed my way, I shot an apologetic glance at the casualties, who were regaining their footing quickly, and I ungracefully slipped and skidded as I hurried after Marco off the rink.

With quick efficiency Marco got our skates off, our shoes back on, grabbed my hand, and started hauling me back up toward Princes Street.

We were only halfway up the hill when he suddenly let go of my hand and looked down at me, appearing ready to explode. And then he did.

His laughter was loud and infectious, and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

My surprise soon melted into shared hilarity and I collapsed against his side, giggling like a madwoman.

“Oh, man.” Marco finally calmed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I didn’t realize you were such a klutz, babe.”

“I’m not! I just… don’t have the best spatial awareness. Obviously.”

His body shook with laughter again. “That’s the fucking understatement of the year. Jesus, that was like a skit. You couldn’t have rehearsed it better.”

“Should I prepare myself for a constant stream of teasing for the next few hours?”

“More like years of it. Any time we see a pair of ice skates…”

I harrumphed. “No one got hurt.”

He snorted and I could tell he was trying not to lose it again.

I punched him playfully. “You keep up the teasing, you’re not getting your Christmas present.” I’d bought him a Blu-ray player since he’d said he didn’t have one and I knew how much he loved movies.

Marco looked down at me, pulling me in closer to his side. “You’ll still get yours.”

My eyes lit up. “You got me a present?”

“Of course.”

“I like presents.”

His gaze turned deeply affectionate. “Duly noted.”

Warmth pulsed through me at the expression on his face. I held on tighter to him. “I kind of like you. You know that, right?”

His answer was to stop us in the middle of the crowds again and kiss me like there was no one else around.

After a lengthy, heated embrace, I pulled back to grin up at him. “You’re really cool.”

He grinned back. “Good thing one of us is.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You have two hours to get the skating incident out of your system, and then no more.”

“I object. Two hours isn’t long enough.”

“It’s plenty long enough.”

“The length of teasing should be in proportion to the magnitude of the incident. Babe, you just took out five people simultaneously on an ice rink. I’d say that’s at least the first five years of our lives together. One year per person.”

I wanted to argue with the math, but I knew if our roles were reversed I’d be taking the absolute piss out of him for it for years to come. “Fine,” I grumbled. “Five years.”

He hugged me to his side and started leading me up the hill again. “You do realize you just committed yourself to me for at least five years.”

That sneaky little… I gave him a look of reluctant admiration. “Nicely played, D’Alessandro. Nicely played.”

For the last few weeks, I’d taken to waking just before Marco’s alarm was set to go off. Mostly, I would just cuddle in closer to him and close my eyes again.

However, that morning I woke up to discover that we were tangled in each other as we lay on our sides, my outer thigh resting over his, my lower body pressed into him.

Marco might be asleep, but his body was aware of the close proximity of its manly bits to my womanly bits. With his hard-on pushing against my belly, I felt a delicious tingle between my legs that woke me up entirely.

Trailing my hands up his naked back, I delighted in the feel of him. I lowered my head and started kissing my way down his chest.

Suddenly his arms tightened around me and he pushed us until I was flat on my back and he was braced over me.

He looked down at me through sleepy eyes. “First your snoring keeps me awake and now you’re trying to make me late?” His voice was even more gravelly than usual. So unbelievably sexy I wanted to touch myself as I listened to him talk.

I squirmed under him until I had my legs wrapped lightly around his hips. “I’m trying to make up for the snoring with sex, but if you’re not interested…,” I teased, moving to drop my legs.

“That’s not a gun pressing against you, babe.”

I grinned cheekily and shook my head. “No, that’s your cock.”

Marco grinned back. “You just like saying that word, don’t you?”

I nodded as he lowered his head to press kisses to my neck. “Cock.” His kisses turned to love bites and I giggled. “Cock, cock, cock.”

Growling, Marco rolled us so he was on his back and I was astride him. He looked up at me, his beautiful blue-green eyes as awake as his hard-on now. His hands flexed on my hips as the sexual heat in his eyes ignited. “Ride my cock, Hannah,” he ordered gruffly.

I purred, lifting myself over him until I felt the tip of him at my entrance. I grew wet at just the promise of him. “Just because you asked so nicely…”

I was in a great mood. My day had started with earth-shattering sex and now it was ending with one of my favorite lesson plans. I had my fourth-year class and we were discussing villains. In order to illustrate the use of character development and the need for layers in creating a good villain in literature, I was using clips from the film The Dark Knight Rises.

Having the visual and something the kids enjoyed as the source actually really helped in getting them to understand the use of history, circumstance, and motivation in creating a villain. The students were really into it. It was probably the most animated I’d ever seen them, and I was in a great mood, enjoying it right along with them.

“Whit’s up wi’ you?” Jack Ryan, the thorn in my side, sneered and effectively ruined the positive atmosphere. “Someone finally givin’ it tae you?”

My blood boiled and while I counted to ten in order to answer the little shit calmly, Jarrod let his eraser fly. It was some throw.

It hit Jack’s cheek. Hard.

“Whit the fuck!” He slapped a hand to his cheek and glared in Jarrod’s direction. He moved as if he was going to get up, but I was already marching over to him with determination.

“Sit down,” I demanded with a chilling calm. The whole class tensed at the anger in my voice.

Surprised by my tone, Jack lowered himself back into his seat.

Reaching his table, I put my palms on it and leaned down so he had nowhere to look but at my face.

My voice quiet and taut, I laid it out for him. “If you ever speak to me like that again, you are out of here. Do you understand me?”

He shrugged.

I narrowed my eyes. “Let me make myself perfectly clear, then. I am not impressed by you. I am certainly not intimidated by you, and, frankly, I am sick of your continuous interruptions in my class. One more inappropriate word from you and you’re gone, and I’ll keep putting you out of this class every time you do it. Because do you know what? It’s no skin off my nose if you don’t pass this class. I’d rather everyone else gets the attention they need from me, because they deserve it. If you want to walk out into the real world without even a basic education and then spend your life struggling to make ends meet, then go ahead – say something that will really, really annoy me.”

Jack’s answer was to stare at me sullenly.

But he didn’t open his mouth. I took that as progress.

Shooting him one last warning look, I bent down and picked up Jarrod’s eraser. I walked over to his table. “I think you dropped this.”

Smirking, he reached up to take it back, but I held it out of his reach for a moment.

“I’m asking you not to drop it again.”

Jarrod’s expression changed, the smirk disappearing, a serious note in his eyes. He nodded carefully and I handed the eraser back to him.

We finished up the class but Jack had officially ruined the mood. I gave him another stern look as he left my classroom at the sound of the bell. The kids were filtering out when Jarrod came over to my desk, waiting for his classmates to leave.

As soon as the last one was out the door, he grinned at me. “You do seem really happy, Miss.” That grin turned knowing. “Anything to do with that big guy that came to see you a while back?”

“Jarrod,” I said crisply, “it’s none of your business.”

“Right.” He grinned. “Just saying. Nice to know a big guy like that’s watching your back.”

That was kind of sweet, but I didn’t let him know I thought that. Instead I said, “As much as I appreciate the sentiment behind you throwing the eraser at Jack today, I need you to start thinking before you act. You’ve got a short fuse, Jarrod. That short fuse could get you into situations that you might not work your way out of easily and I want more for you than that. So when someone says something you don’t like or tries to get a reaction out of you, stop, think, and remember that you’re a smart kid with a bright future and a little brother who thinks the world of you.”

He stared at me a moment, seeming to process my words.

To my relief he didn’t give me a smart-arse retort. He just nodded.