It was pretty warm for September, and the sky was clear. I took his hand and stood. He leaned in and kissed me gently. To imagine I used to think of kisses as a polite introduction to the next step and not much more. I really was stupid. When he finally released my lips I sighed and touched my forehead to his. “Nick.”
As we separated and started to walk towards the water, he rubbed his thumb absently against mine. “I have never liked any shortening of my name or nicknames.”
Oh.
He turned to me. “Stop that right now,” he ordered with a frown. “I know you. Let me finish what I was going to say. I never used to like it, but hearing you call me Nick, it’s different. I could hear you say it over and over again. And God, when you say it with a moan, it’s like throwing petrol on a campfire. It’s the best sound I have ever heard.”
I wrapped my arm around him, drawing him in closer to my side. Ignoring the people bustling past us, we continued to walk and talk, enjoying the warm spring evening. And each other.
He talked a little about the old beachfront property near Byron Bay that him and Eric had looked at. Eric’s vision was to turn it into an exclusive spa retreat. I talked a bit about friends at work and funny jobs.
As we ventured further away from people, our conversation turned more personal. He asked more about my childhood, and I revealed a few stories about how hard Mum worked. How tired she always was, but also stories about how much fun I had with her. The games she played with me, the toys or activities she made out of scraps, like the cylinders from kitchen wrap or paper towels. I explained that she had left home with me as a newborn with the clothes on her back, her school bag and her walkman with one cassette in it. She had borrowed some clothes from some friends and done some couch surfing with friends until she had gotten a job and a room. Our worldly possessions at that time had consisted of a bag of clothes for the two of us, some nappies and her prized walkman.
Eventually, we found ourselves at Observatory Hill, and we sat overlooking the harbor. The lights on the boats bobbed up and down as we watched a ferry pass by. We heard a train up on the bridge and then the sound falling away, and despite sitting in the middle of a city, it was peaceful.
Nick cleared his throat, and I turned to meet his eyes. “About the phone call the other night…” His voice drifted off as he shifted.
“I’m sorry about that. I was being an idiot. Even if you were at Subway, we haven’t discussed whether we are exclusive or not, so I was just being stupid” I conceded.
He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. We’re still feeling our way here, and I guess even if you did know me well, it wouldn’t be much of a leap to think I would be out hooking up. But I…”
He paused, and I waited while he got his thoughts together.
“Club hook-ups have always been my normal. But that’s not what this is. It might be how we started, but I don’t want to be with anyone else. And I don’t want to share you.”
I couldn’t help the smile pulling at my lips. I suspected it was the first time Nick had ever discussed being exclusive with anyone.
“Good. I’m an only child too, so I never really learned to share, and I don’t intend to start now.”
He gave a soft chuckle, and we looked back out over the water.
Nick talked about a few of the places he had lived in through his childhood. Even though most of his childhood had been spent in England, I was fascinated to learn he had spent a few years in various European cities.
“That’s what it is with your accent, then?” I asked. He looked confused. “It’s an English accent. Obviously. But it’s a little different.”
“Ah. We did move around a bit, but also my father is American.” His answers were still always short when the topic of family came up.
Instead, he talked about a few friends he made in different places, but they never stayed in touch for long after he moved on. His voice grew quieter when he spoke. “Eric and I should never have been friends. We don’t make sense, at all. He is boisterous and colourful. I am, well, not either of those things. He likes to make his decisions based on gut feelings and jumps in with two feet. I like to analyse and weigh up pros and cons. I know I overthink things, but that’s just how my brain works. But I guess the balance between us is what works. He knew how I felt about staying and putting down roots. Moving to Sydney with Eric was always supposed to be temporary. I promised him I would get him set up and get the processes in place. This is the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place. Eric isn’t quite as smooth as he thinks”. He paused and the small smile he offered with a shake of his head was warm like it always was when he spoke of Eric. “He has spent the past few years coming up with things that he couldn’t possibly do on his own. I know he doesn’t want to come out and ask me to stay because he thinks that wouldn’t be fair.”
I asked him if he was planning on going back home, and he sighed.
“I have no idea where home is,” he answered quietly, almost to himself. And I couldn’t think of anything sadder.
After a deep breath, he sat up straighter and smiled, even though it seemed a little forced.
“But Eric dragging me around Europe after uni was a far more interesting experience. Everywhere we went, he would make friends within ten minutes of walking into a bar. He had groups of girls giggling and fawning all over him, big macho guys clapping him on the back and buying him drinks, and middle-aged women wanting to adopt him. He just has that way with people. Combine that with his intelligence and his business sense no university could teach, and you can see why he’s so good at his job.” He was smiling fondly, a look I hadn’t seen on Nick other than when he talked about Eric. I wondered about their friendship, but I decided whatever happened in the past was just that—in the past.
“I would love to see some of those places,” I said wistfully.
He turned to face me. “Like where? If you could go anywhere, where would you choose?”
“London, Paris, God, anywhere, everywhere… No, Italy. If I had to choose one, it would be Italy. Rome, Venice, Tuscany. Definitely Tuscany.”
“Tuscany is stunning,” he agrees. “And Umbria. I kind of liked Umbria better, only because it is less crowded. But we should go to both, and you can decide.” He paused and then looked straight at me. “Do you ever think of looking for your dad? Is that something you might want to do?”
I wiped at a piece of grass on my jeans and looked back out at the water. “Honestly, no. He was never my dad, so I don’t have any interest in meeting him. He was some random guy my mum slept with. I don’t consider him anything to me. Italy just looks beautiful.” I felt a pang of insecurity, but I was pretty sure I hid it well.
“What? What just happened then?” He asked, concern in his voice.
I shook my head, about to say I was fine, but stopped. I smiled weakly at him. “Only me being me for a moment. I know not all your childhood memories are happy, and I’m not trying to belittle it. I’m really not. It’s just that… It’s just that every time I listen to you talk, everything sounds interesting and exciting. And well, I could count the interesting things about me on one hand. Probably with four or five fingers to spare. Sorry, that’s a bit self-deprecating, even for me.”