I shake my head. I should be happy with what I have, God knows it was hard won. I turn back inside and force myself to get back to work. We will talk about it when he’s ready, I shouldn’t push things. I potter in the kitchen, humming along to the radio. This is okay. A happy, quiet life.
Danny makes me jump, slipping his arm around my waist and pressing his lips to the back of my neck. “I’ve to go out,” he murmurs against my skin.
“Okay,” I reply, sighing into his warmth. Then he withdraws quickly and I sag with disappointment.
“I won’t be long,” he says as he hurries away.
I wonder why he looks so pleased with himself.
A couple of hours later he’s back carrying bags from the supermarket. He holds them up for me to see, so that I understand he’s cooking me dinner and I smile. ‘Seven,’ he mouths to me as I hand some change to my customer. I smile and nod, then he disappears up to the flat.
I waste no time following him up there when the evening staff arrive at six and the aroma of garlic finds me halfway up the stairs. I find Danny in the kitchen listening to music and cooking as he so often is these days. We eat downstairs during the day, but in the evenings now, more often than not he cooks. Sometimes I beat him to it, but he loves it and I’ve no complaints. I know before I peer over his shoulder that we are having his legendary spaghetti and meatballs and as he turns to kiss me I notice the bottle of wine open beside him. I smirk, he is either trying to get me drunk, or force us to be more grown up so that we don’t embarrass ourselves in restaurants.
“It smells yummy.”
“Like you.” He grins, wrapping his arms around me.
“Me? I smell like stale coffee. I’m going to have a shower before dinner,” I say, stepping away.
“I’ll be right there,” he says, turning down the stove.
“I think I can manage.” I reply without thinking, I’m doing fine now, so a shower shouldn’t be that unmanageable. His face falls, like he is thinking the time has finally come that I don’t need him anymore, just like he said it would. My heart melts for him. “But I don’t want to chance it, are you sure you don’t mind?”
His spirits lift straight away and he follows me into the bathroom.
“You can wipe that glum expression off your face. I still need you,” I tease as he helps me step into the shower. “And even if I don’t, I WANT you, which should count for more.”
“I know,” he sighs, holding me tight under the stream of water.
When I come out of the bedroom all dressed in my favourite chilling clothes, my black trackies and Danny’s Guns ’n’ Roses t-shirt, Danny is setting the table wearing only his grey sweats. I stop dead and watch him leaning across the table. Oh. My. God! I don’t know what makes me weakest, the tattoos, the abs, his golden skin, the way his trousers hang low on his hips…it all does me in. Those grey sweats are such a turn on, he knows that. In fact I think he puts them on to guarantee he gets lucky. Although it’s me that’s lucky and I’m lucky pretty much every day!
I approach him quietly and when he stands up straight, he presses into me. He tenses for a split second, surprised that I’m behind him, but he instantly relaxes as I run my fingers around his sides and over his abs. I kiss his bare shoulder then run my tongue up his neck to the place behind his ear that always makes him shiver. I smile when a sigh accompanies the ripple from his skin and he tilts his head, willing me to continue. So I spend some time on that sweet spot he loves.
“Was it the pants again?” he breathes.
“It’s everything.” I sigh against his skin.
He twists in my embrace and catches my face in his hands, staring into my eyes. “I love everything about you too.” He grins and then kisses me tenderly, leaving me grateful he is holding me up.
“I want you,” I whisper.
He laughs. “You can have me later. It’s dinner time,” he says and smacks my bum as he goes back into the kitchen, picking up his t-shirt from the back of the chair and slipping it over his head as he goes.
I slump. “How do you have so much self-restraint?”
“I just know you’re worth the wait,” he calls.
I shake my head, following him to collect the wine and some glasses.
Danny turns to face me holding our steaming bowls of pasta and stops.
“What?” I say.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.” He heads to the table.
“No, what?”
As soon as he’s put our food down he turns to face me, catching both my wrists in his hands. He holds them tight and leans forward until our faces are almost touching, holding my gaze for a moment before leaning in to kiss me. I inhale through my nose as the kiss deepens and sigh when he pulls away.
“Did you realise, you haven’t used your crutches since you have been home?” he says.
I look at my feet, conscious, because I know he’s really insecure about me not needing his help anymore. I actually feel guilty and have to stop myself apologising. When I look back up at him, he takes the wine out of my left hand and the glasses out of my right. “You’re getting better, at last.”
I nod. But he frowns. “You don’t seem pleased.”
“I am.” I sigh, sitting down.
“But?”
“But, I know you’re worried about it.”
“Liv! I’m not worried about it!” He shakes his head. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want you to get better?”
“No, I…” I don’t really know what to say, because that is what I think.
“I’m so sorry if I gave you that impression. I want you better more than anything. I just enjoy showering with you and it has been nice being needed. But there is so much I want to do that I need you better for, please don’t think for a second that I would wish you a slow recovery.” He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“I’ve changed,” I say quietly. “I like things the way they are now, I like you doing things to help me. I won’t suddenly stop wanting any of it.”
“I hope not. But even if you do, I will still be glad you’re better.” He frowns again. “I can’t believe you would think that I wouldn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No! It’s my fault. I obviously gave you that impression.” He curses himself.
This is going badly, I was so looking forward to dinner and a nice snuggle on the sofa, and now I’ve cocked it all up and made him feel awful. I sigh heavily. What a disaster.
Danny starts to laugh. I look up at him in shock.
“Sorry,” he says covering his mouth with his hand. “It’s not funny, but we are such a disaster!” He laughs harder.
Even though I don’t really get it, I can’t help laughing too.
“I thought we were getting better at this, but we still both think the worst all the time. It’s funny.”
I laugh more once I understand.
“Just to be clear. I want you better, I NEED you better. I want to get on with our life and I want you to be one hundred percent to do that.” He takes my hand again, trying to look sincere as his laughter subsides.
I erupt now, I can’t help it. He looks at me confused. “Well then I should tell you that I haven’t needed my crutches for a week, in fact today I forgot to take one to work with me!” I laugh, hysterically now. “I didn’t want to upset you, I hoped you wouldn’t notice!”
Danny puts his face in his hands. “Oh my God! Look at us!” he mumbles from inside his hands, shaking his head.
“I know.” I giggle. “I’m really sorry.” I try to peel his fingers away from his face, but he holds firm.
“Why do we do this?” he says, finally looking at me.
“Do what exactly?”
“Assume the worst of each other.” He sighs, trying to pull himself together, so I do the same. “Old habits die hard I guess.”
I nod in agreement. It really is ridiculous, we need to stop this kind of thing from snowballing back into what we had before…doubt and insecurity. “Okay, I’m stopping as of now,” I say decisively, then I tap him on the arm. “Hey, Danny,” I say in an over-enthusiastic tone. “I don’t really need my crutches anymore. I really feel like I’m
