And I felt disappointed by that. Not disappointed like I’d felt with Norse God – because that had been nothing. But disappointed because I liked Nick, in a way that I probably shouldn’t. I liked him more than any of the guys I’d been on awkward dating app first dates with. I liked him enough to want to see him again. I liked him in a way that made me not care about what I ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ do, because I knew what I wanted right in this moment – to be with him, to sleep with him, to stay here, and wake up next to him.
As if reading my mind, he waited until I had dried off, and wrapped the towel around my body. ‘Do you want to stay?’
I nodded.
He led me down the white-tiled hallway to his bedroom. Without saying a word, he leaned down and lifted me up – effortlessly – his muscles flexing, he slid me onto the bed. I’d always dreamed of an amazing man, a sexy, wild version of me, a beach hut somewhere, but nothing like this.
Was this happening? My stomach fluttered and I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his face towards me. He kissed me again, passionately. ‘I like it when you do that,’ he said.
He traced his lips over my lips, then my cheek, following the line of my neck down the right side, leaving soft kisses that gave me goosebumps, then licking in long strokes, and finally tiny bites. He tugged gently on my hair, then a little stronger, pulling my head back, and exposing my neck to his kisses.
He moved his hands to cup my breasts. I arched my back, and he sucked my right nipple in his mouth. I moaned with intensity, all other thoughts immediately leaving my head.
‘I thought you’d be the noisy type.’ He licked between my breasts and looked up at me.
‘Do you like noisy?’ I asked coyly, letting my fingers float across his perfect chest and abs, honed to perfection, smooth and taut.
‘God,’ he moaned, ‘I love it.’
I’d always dreamed of a summer fling, but nothing like this.
I curled my legs around his back, locking my ankles, pulling him closer to me. Without thinking, I leaned forward, licked his neck, then whispered in his ear, ‘I want you.’
His hot breath was on my chin, on my neck, as he ground into me. Our bodies rocked against each other. He grabbed onto my thighs where he was holding me, so hard, that he left fingerprints. I scratched my fingernails down his back. The pain and pleasure pushed us both over the edge in a large shudder. He groaned and fell into me, gently placing me back on the bed, kissing my lips gently.
We stayed there for a minute, not moving.
‘I did not know this was going to happen,’ I said, panting from the effort.
‘Why are you panting? I did all the work!’ He laughed.
I swatted his arm. ‘I was doing a lot of hip action there too, buddy. It takes yoga classes to get that flexible.’
He leaned back and looked into my eyes. ‘That was amazing.’
‘Sleep time?’ I asked, suddenly exhausted and wanting to feel his warm body pressed against me all night.
‘Sleep time,’ he said, kissing me gently on the tip of my nose. ‘My bed is king size. It’s comfy, I promise.’
He tossed me a T-shirt and shorts from the top of the wicker basket. ‘I only wore them earlier today for ten minutes – they’re clean.’
When I put them on, they smelled of him slightly, his minty aftershave. I collapsed onto the bed and yawned again, almost slipping instantly into sleep.
Nick crawled on the bed next to me, one arm around me, tucking my hair away from my face. I wanted him to kiss me, but before I could do anything, I fell asleep feeling his soft warm breath tickling my skin and listening to the sounds of the ocean in the distance.
Chapter 3
‘Good morning, sleepy,’ Nick said, standing there, his perfect body in perfect boxers, smiling, an orange juice in his hand. ‘Do you want coffee?’
I nodded limply, because everything seemed to hurt my head.
‘Hangovers,’ he’d said, ‘are the version of adult nightmares that you can’t wake up from.’
We laughed and delicately tried to eat toast and sip water. Then we spent an hour laying next to each other, our arms and legs touching, intertwined, chatting about places we wanted to visit, and places we’d loved, and our favourite books, and music – all the things that you loved discovering about another person. And there was no doubt about it, Nick was a nerd, a poetry nerd at that. He liked Yeats, but mostly E.E. Cummings. I knew that he liked his coffee extra black, extra shot. That he visited him mum every second Saturday. That he would move to Canada if he could, to the west coast.
Finally, I knew I had to get up and go back to my hotel, to shower, and sleep, and feel human again. I mused about how to say goodbye without making it uncomfortable or strange. Of course, I wanted to see him again, but I had no idea if he felt the same way. For a moment I stood awkwardly in my black dress, my shoes in my hand, looking around his room. Did we swap numbers, or email addresses, or something? Or maybe we just kissed … and said goodbye like mature adults and went on with our lives.
‘How about a seafood lunch later?’ Nick said casually, pulling on a T-shirt after a quick shower. ‘I’m flying back tonight, but I could see you before three o’clock.’ He paused. ‘Only if you want?’
Sure,’ I replied excitedly. He wants to see me again.
‘My number is 04—’
‘Wait. My phone is out of battery and there’s no way I’ll remember that.’ I laughed but then it hurt my head a little, so I stopped. ‘Ouch.’
‘Poor you. OK here’s my number.’ He said quickly scribbling it on a piece of paper and handing it to me. ‘Text me where and when, and I’ll be there.’
‘Great,’ I said and pocketed it, giving him a long hug before slipping out the front door.
Outside, I walked quickly back across the sandy beach where just hours ago I’d been naked. The sun was up and blinding already at this early hour, there was no breeze, and the humidity sat heavy in the air. I was sweating in seconds as I trudged through the sand, step by step. I wandered down a road and then left along a small beach cove. Where was my hotel? And, where was I? Feeling confused and disorientated, I’d turned down a few streets and walked for a while, before realising they were dead ends. Was I even going the right way?
After the longest, hottest walk I’d found I’d taken a wrong turn, and had to backtrack twenty long, hot minutes before I arrived at the hotel, feeling like a limp dishrag.
Slipping into my deliciously cool room, I showered and took a quick power nap. When I got up, I’d looked at the crumpled piece of paper on my bed with Nick’s phone number. I read the numbers aloud 0402 773 944. Before I could second guess myself, I texted him Hey you, hope your head is feeling better. My hotel apparently does a great seafood lunch. Freshwaters, at 1pm? And then I’d put his number in my purse, and called down to reception to book a table near the pool for two.
Excited, I jumped in the shower again and spent an hour getting ready. I put on my sea-green maxi dress and sandals and I styled my hair straight and then spent a lot of extra time giving it beach waves. By the time I was finished it was just past 1 p.m., so I grabbed my phone and purse and took the lift to Freshwaters. The waiter seated me at one of the best tables right next to the pool, and the sun was shining so brightly, I had to wear sunglasses. I ordered two glasses of sauvignon blanc, because I knew he liked really crisp, dry white wines. I laughed, then, because I already knew what he liked and didn’t like. I picked up the menu and planned what we’d eat for lunch. We’d start with the calamari rings – fried to perfection – then grilled Yasawa lobster to share. I’d have the panko fried mussels, because for some reason he doesn’t like mussels, and he could have the Fiji crab, as long as he promised to save me a bite, or two. Or maybe we’d just splurge and order two of them to be sure.