“Tough titty, Everhard. I have to go to work,” I tell him. I wriggle out of his arms and head toward the apartment sized wardrobe, where a few of my clothes now hang.
Conner and I have spent the past three weeks, hidden away in absolute domestic bliss. Apart from his weekend in New York, which I couldn’t attend because I’d stupidly forgotten that my passport was still at my old house, leaving it too late to apply for a new one, we’ve hardly been apart or left his house. Obviously, I’ve been going to work every week day, but our together time has all been spent at Conner’s.
In the three weeks that we’ve been together, I’ve only spent two nights at Sophie’s and this weekend I’ve finally conceded and will be bringing all of my stuff here and moving in.
Life is good! I’m head over heels in love with the man I was destined to be with. I’m moving in with him and I couldn’t be happier. Yes, everything has happened at lightning speed, but like Conner keeps telling me, ‘When you know, you know, right?’
The only thorn in my side right now is Marcus. He’s refusing to sign any of the divorce papers and has contacted my solicitors, telling Nate that he’s still prepared to go for counselling to try and save our marriage. He has no idea about Conner. No one outside of Conner’s trusted circle of friends, family and bandmates knows, except for Soph, of course.
I’ve agreed to meet Marcus at lunch time today. He wanted to meet in a restaurant, but I refused and told him the park across the road from the salon and Sophie’s flat would suffice. He wasn’t happy, but eventually agreed. The only problem is, I’ve yet to tell Conner and I just know that he’s going to flip.
I throw some underwear on the bed and go back to pull a dress off the hanger. When I come back out of the wardrobe and pull the towel from around me, I realise my bra and knickers are missing. Conner is standing with his back to me at the bathroom sink, cleaning his teeth.
“What the fuck have I done with them?” I mumble to myself.
“What?” Conner asks through a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Nothing,” I call back while lifting the duvet and then bending to look under the bed.
“What you lost?” Conner asks from beside me.
“My bra and knickers. I swear I just put them on the bed. I’m seriously going nuts. All this sex is messing with my brain.”
When I stand back up, he’s leaning against the wall. Face serious, his dick still hard, my bra and knickers hanging from it.
“You fucker, Reed. That’s so not funny. I’m gonna be late, my first client is in at nine and it just happens to be my mother and she’s not someone you wanna keep waiting, believe me.” I stand naked, arms folded across my chest, trying to look as serious and as pissed off as possible.
“Well, there’s a way to sort out my hard-on, just mention your mother. I usually use your brother as a cure.”
What?
“You think about my brother when you get a hard-on? I find that seriously disturbing Con, like wrong, really, really wrong.” I shudder at the thought.
I hold my hand out, hoping that he’s going to pass me my undies. He wiggles his eyebrows and gives me his favourite smile, the one that takes me back to when we were kids and he used to flirt and make me blush. The memories of what we’ve been through to get to this point causes a lump to form in my throat, tears to sting my eyes and my heart to squeeze.
“I’m meeting Marcus today,” I can’t help blurting it out. When he smiles at me like that, it just does something to me and there’s no way I could leave this morning without being honest with him. The smile instantly falls from his face.
“What?” he frowns as he asks.
“Marcus. I’ve agreed to meet him at lunchtime, today.”
He pulls my underwear from his dick and slings them down on the bed. I grab them and step into my knickers.
“No way, Meebs! No way are you meeting with that fucker,” he paces as he talks.
“Con, I want a divorce. I need to keep him sweet so that he’ll sign the papers. He wanted to go out for dinner to discuss our issues,” I use air quotes on the ‘discuss our issues’ part.
“But I refused. Then he suggested lunch and I said no, telling him the park opposite the salon, or nowhere. He eventually agreed.”
He walks past me into the wardrobe and emerges as I’m trying to reach my zip, wearing a pair of sweat shorts. Without me even asking, he zips up the back of my dress and that one small act sends a rush of emotions through me and again, causes tears to sting my eyes. I turn and wrap my arms around him.
“I’m going to be in the park, across the road from the salon. It’ll be broad daylight, in the middle of summer. The schools have broken up, there’ll be people everywhere. I’ll be fine.”
He pulls me in close and kisses my neck.
“He’s a slippery, slimy little fucker. I don’t trust him, Meebs. What’s he trying to achieve by seeing you anyway?”