She seems to be doing okay after last night. She certainly was while she was on top of me. Nothing beats your girl losing control while she’s bouncing above you.
“This is surreal,” I say.
She curls her hot body into me. I move to stroke her back.
“What is?”
“This. Us. I wasn’t sure we’d ever happen again. I hoped, obviously. Sometimes it seemed like a sure thing, like who else would we be with, you know? Other times, I felt a million miles away from you, not five thousand.”
“I thought you were going with the fact that you’re famous, a household name with a movie out in the cinemas.”
“Ah, that.”
She laughs, the musical sound radiating through me.
Best sound in the world.
I roll on top of her. She looks up at me, her dark hair now a halo around her. “What are we going to do with the whole day, Indie? I can pretty much get us into anywhere you like.”
“Jason Mamoa’s dressing room?”
I narrow my eyes. “If I can’t have prostitutes, you can’t have Jason.”
“Damn it.” She smiles wide, the anguish from yesterday gone. “Do you use your name to get in places often?”
“Everyone does.”
“Wow. Think you can use it on the exam board and get me a first?”
“You don’t need me to do that.”
Her expression softens. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” I take a breath, the look in her eyes making my blood burn red hot.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
“A walk? Where do you want to walk in December?”
“Not into town. We’ll be crowded by hordes of adoring fans. How about the forest?”
“The forest? I’m sorry, I can’t take you shopping or to the cinema.”
“No, Spence, this is on me. We’re only avoiding public places because I’m still anxious about the attention. I’ll work on not caring about being seen with you.”
“Ouch.”
“You know how I meant that.”
She moves, and I get out of the way. “Where are you going?” I ask her. Getting out of bed, she starts to get dressed. “Don’t put clothes on.”
“Pervert. Look, I’m not ashamed of you—not at all—and I don’t want to hide. Just… can you give me some time to get used to this? Our lives aren’t going to be how they were before you left for LA. Everything is perfect, just in a totally different way to what I imagined.”
“Indie,” I say, getting up with her since we’re apparently done with being in bed now. “You can have however long you want as long as, one day, we get to wake up together every morning.”
“You want to live with me?”
“I’d buy you a house today if you’d let me.”
She laughs to herself. “I’m so not starting this argument right now.”
“Why would we argue? Oh… you’re going to try and pay your share.”
“Yes. I mean, I can probably only afford the shed in the back garden, but still…”
“We’re definitely not starting this argument today. Come on, let’s go to the forest.”
“I want to do the purple walk.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course, you do. That’s the longest one.”
“It’s so pretty at this time of year with the frost, and apparently the snowdrops are early this season.”
“Great. Hours of being out in the freezing cold, looking at flowers.”
“Well, Hollywood, we’ll just have to find a way to keep us warm.”
“I’m listening.”
With a laugh, she shakes her head and throws my jeans at me.
Outside the house is clear now. It’s surprising how quick they leave when you take a second to answer a couple of questions and smile for a photo.
“Before I go back to LA, I need to come to another class with you. I love seeing you in the classroom, answering questions, making everyone else look thick as fuck.”
“They’re all smart in my class. We should go paintballing. No one there will care that you’re famous. And we should go to a Christmas market at night—wear a hat. And let’s bake those cinnamon biscuits we burn every year!”
“Sounds good.” I hold my hand out. “Let’s start with the walk.”
Indie’s smile is easy as I drive us to the country park to pick up the purple trail. She’s showing no signs of having been unwell yesterday.
Was it really a sickness bug? She wouldn’t lie about being pregnant… no way. Half of her life might be hidden better than Carole Baskin’s dead husband, but Indie wouldn’t keep a pregnancy from me.
What did she say about her parents? They’re away visiting friends. That’s completely plausible.
I pull into the car park and slide sunglasses on top of my head. Hopefully, I won’t need to wear them and look like a knob. It’s December.
Indie grabs her thick coat and gets out. I cut the engine and follow her to the front of the car.
“Ready, Hollywood? Do you need to warm up? Do a few push ups before we get going? Walking alone isn’t going to sustain that six pack.”
“I’m having sex now; I don’t feel the need to train as hard.”
She watches me, and I can tell the question is on the tip of her tongue. I’ll reassure her every day if she needs to hear it. There is no one else, and there never will be.
“Just you, Indie. You know that.”
“I like that.”
“I thought you would. ”
I take her hand, and we walk towards the purple route. It comes as no surprise that we see no one. Normal people aren’t outside freezing their arses off. Indie presses herself against me, and I’m content. Money and fame are great, but this is real.
“You feel okay now? No tummy ache or anything?”
She does a double take, her eyebrows furrowing. “Oh. No, I’m fine. I wasn’t sick again. Maybe it was something I ate earlier and not a bug.”
“I’m glad you’re better. You want me to take you shopping later? You said you didn’t have much in. I can wear a disguise, or we can go late.”
“That’s okay, I’ll sort it.”
“Are your parents home soon?”
It was the wrong thing to ask.
