I explained the night’s events.
‘Let me get this straight. An intelligent bloke with the body of a Greek God is lusting after you and you’re resisting because of some stupid rule that was probably made up by a hypocritical guy whilst he was banging his secretary. And let’s face it, how many times in the last eighteen months have you had sex?’
‘Once,’ I murmured sheepishly. That was below the belt! And it wasn’t the point! And God, I still missed Phil so much. Focus, Cooper. Focus.
‘But, Kate, he’s a bouncer for God’s sake. They’d shag anything in a skirt.’
‘Cooper, you’re being so bloody judgemental. How many females has this guy copped off with since you met him?’
‘None.’
‘How many have you heard him chatting up?’
‘None.’
‘Well, stop being such a snob then. Just because he’s a bouncer doesn’t mean he’s a slapper. What does he do as a day job?’
‘He does personal training for yuppies to support himself. He’s learning Cantonese and practising some karate thing. He wants to open a martial arts school for kids.’
The volume of her groan nearly made me drop the phone.
‘Jesus, Carly. He sounds like a cross between Dolph Lundgren and Mother Teresa. Now take advice from an old married woman. After kids, the sex deteriorates to the occasional knackered fumble, so make the most of it while you can.’
This wasn’t quite the pep talk I’d been hoping for.
A wave of homesickness drowned me. To make it worse, Kate brought me up to date with the latest gossip before hanging up. Carol had landed her first national TV commercial. She’d been the Glasgow Tourist Board’s ‘Flirt in a Skirt’ in their last advert for tartan kilts, but this was the first television job she’d bagged since she moved to London.
‘How long did you celebrate for?’ I knew I was torturing myself, but I had to ask.
‘Three days,’ she answered, hesitantly.
My bottom lip began to quiver. I missed the girls at home like crazy.
‘But we had lots of toasts in your memory,’ she added quickly, trying to console me. It didn’t work. It just made it sound like I had died.
Jess was next. She’d joined Carol and Kate in London and had a research post with Brixton Council. Only Sarah was still in Scotland. ‘Since she moved in with that guy in Edinburgh she’s fallen off the face of the earth. She’s bailed on everything we’ve invited her to for ages now. Always says she’s too busy. And the once or twice that I’ve managed to get her on the phone, she just says she’s been way too busy to keep in touch. She says she’s really happy though. I guess sometimes friendships just drift apart, but I wish she still had time for us,’ Kate complained.
‘Me too. She never replies to my letters.’ I didn’t mind. I was glad she was happy and I knew we’d catch up eventually. Although, I’d have to track down her address because the last one I had for her was lost when my personal organiser vanished.
‘Don’t take it personally,’ Kate said. ‘Just one of those things, but we miss her.’
I could hear Kate’s voice getting sleepy.
‘Be good, Cooper. And remember, if you can’t be good, be—’
‘I know, be careful.’
‘I was going to say “outrageous”,’ she laughed. ‘I know your limitations.’
I put the pillow back over my head. The sun had come up outside and I wasn’t ready to face the day yet. There was a knock at the door.
‘Room service.’
‘I didn’t order room service,’ I replied. This was all I needed – a confused waiter with a continental breakfast.
Another knock.
‘Room service,’ he repeated.
Fuck! I stomped out of bed, grabbed a robe and threw open the door.
‘I told you I didn’t…’ I stopped mid-sentence. Leaning against the door frame was Sam, looking tired and sweaty, in shorts and a T-shirt.
‘I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a run. Found myself here.’ There was no sense of pushiness or grand gestures, just honesty.
‘And?’
‘You tell me,’ he shrugged, his expression questioning.
Bugger the rules. I pulled him inside and wound my arms around his neck, kissing him until I could barely breathe.
‘More?’ he asked, when we eventually broke apart.
I knew what he was asking and I didn’t hesitate before whispering, ‘Yes.’
He picked me up and carried me to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and stripped off both his clothes and my robe before pulling me under the water jet. He took the soap and lathered me from head to toe, massaging every part of me. I returned the service, reaching for an extra bar of soap.
He pushed me under the water and lifted me up. Instinctively I wrapped my legs round his waist and closed my eyes tight. The fact that I could potentially drown under the shower didn’t even cross my mind, but I was relieved when he switched off the water and carried me to the bed.
‘You sure?’ he whispered.
I nodded, reaching over to my bedside drawer for condoms. It was the same supply I’d had for months, and when I’d unpacked I’d put them there more out of habit than optimism.
Meanwhile, primal instinct took over. We made love on the bed, on the floor, against the window, on the desk, over the coffee table. Sam reciprocated, alternating between taking charge and letting me control him. If this was his usual early morning workout, then no wonder he looked the way that he did. This was the kind of exercise I could definitely get on board with.
Finally, we came together, collapsing against a wall and sliding down it. He reached over to the bed and pulled the duvet off, wrapping it around us.
I was mentally checking my body for broken bones, torn muscles and bruises as he stroked my hair.
‘So what now?’ My powers of initiative and reason had deserted me.
‘We’re having a relationship,’ he stated
