Emily scoops up the half-empty wine bottle and their glasses and makes her way towards the sitting room, as Rupert plucks another bottle from the wine rack and follows behind, suddenly nervous. It’s been a long while since he spent any time alone with a woman who wasn’t Caro. He tells himself that it’s just a bottle of wine, and even if it wasn’t, Caro wouldn’t want him to be lonely. He hesitates for a moment, giving Emily the chance to change her mind, but when he steps into the room she is already snuggled into one end of the sofa, and she gives a thin smile as she pats the seat next to her invitingly.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says, ‘for freaking out a bit in there. I really thought I saw something.’ She looks down at the ruby liquid in her glass, giving it a swirl before she takes a deep breath. ‘I had a really bad relationship last year. It’s left me feeling… jumpy, I guess.’
‘And vulnerable?’ Rupert asks, aware of his hand lying close to her thigh. He knows that raw, flayed feeling only too well. ‘I can relate.’
‘Vulnerable. Jumpy. Unsafe.’ She pauses. ‘Alone.’
Giving in to impulse, Rupert lays his hand gently on her wrist, his fingers wrapping around the delicate bones as he seeks out the pulse that jumps under her skin. Emily looks up at him, and Rupert gives in to impulse again, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. She freezes for a moment, before he feels her mouth soften under his and he can taste wine on her lips and smell the light floral scent that she wears.
‘Oh.’ Emily pulls away and her face is no longer pale. She presses her hand to her mouth and Rupert thinks for a moment that he might have just fucked up monumentally.
‘I’m so sorry, Emily.’ He turns away, scrubbing his hand through his hair. ‘I didn’t mean… I don’t know what came over me.’
‘It’s OK.’
‘I haven’t done anything… I mean, I haven’t even been on a date with anyone since Caro died, let alone kissed anyone. I’m so sorry, I’ve had too much wine. I completely understand if you think this was a huge mistake, and you want to leave. Not that I want you to leave…’ He’s rambling, but he’s quite sure that he doesn’t want her to go yet.
‘Rupert, I said it’s OK.’ Emily puts her hand on his shoulder, turning him to face her. ‘Honestly, I’m not at all offended.’ She gives him a shaky smile, before drinking the last of her wine. She reaches for the new bottle, shifting around so that her thigh lies against his. ‘I think we need more wine, don’t you?’ He smiles at her, waiting as she tops him up and as her fingers linger on his as she passes him the glass, Rupert thanks his lucky stars he left work on time this evening.
Chapter Six
‘Don’t go.’ His voice is quiet, barely a whisper, and I have to strain to hear him. ‘Stay the night.’
I smile in the darkness, before rolling over to face him. In the six weeks since he asked me to stay for dinner, we have spent every evening together, talking, laughing, and having some of the best sex I’ve ever had. But each evening, I slip away, riding my pushbike back to the flat by the light of the streetlamps, sneaking my way in so as not to wake Mags. ‘Really? You want me to stay?’
‘Don’t you want to?’
Rupert’s voice is husky, and he reaches out to lazily roll my nipple between his finger and thumb, a sharp pang of desire slicing through me. I let out a gasp, and nip at his wrist. ‘Of course I want to stay.’ I don’t ever want to leave, if the truth be known. Rupert rolls on top of me, and then for a little while I stop thinking about going home, or staying, or anything else except him.
Later, as he snores softly, his hair ruffled and the sheets tangled around his waist, I doze next to him, my limbs feeling heavy and contentment flooding my veins. Everything is so different with Rupert than it was with Harry. I picture the last time I laid in Harry’s bed, waiting for him to come home. The way his face had twisted with anger and hate as he staggered into the bedroom, the sour, sickening smell of old whisky on his breath as he’d crouched over me, tugging away the duvet and dragging my naked body to the floor. Shaking the image away, I tug the sheets over me and burrow down, the scent of sex and Rupert’s aftershave emanating from the bed.
Finally, I feel as though I have found what I have been looking for my whole life, the elusive thing that my mother assured me was out there as she chased after it herself. I sigh, snuggling against Rupert, when something – a noise outside – jolts me from sleep, my heart racing. For a moment I am confused, thinking I’m at home, and I slide naked from the bed ready to guide Mags back to bed, before I remember where I am. Pausing, I listen hard but all I can hear is the sound of Rupert’s breath. Silently moving to the window, I peer out from between the slats of the blinds. I’m sure I heard something outside, and I remember that I left my bike out there, not bothering to bring it into the hallway as I thought I’d be leaving.
Trying to look down into the front garden, I can see the back wheel of my bike poking out of the porch and I breathe a sigh of relief, ready to head back to the warmth
