No Strings Attached

Chapter Seventeen

She’d felt a gaping, empty hole in her soul that she still wasn’t fully recovered from.

His eyes were heated, dark with a sensuous need as he touched his forehead to hers, “I lo- oh fuck,” he grated, as his shrill ringtone broke into the moment. “Hello,” he barked into the receiver, “Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m busy, I’ll call you later.”

Ending the call, he threw the phone aside. “We’re clear, you want to go back to your place?”

“No, Rory will probably be back there ... I don’t know if I have the strength for that drama ...” He stiffened beneath her, and she caught his hand in her own, bringing their entwined fingers to rest on her stomach. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you that he’d be there.”

“I can’t stand that little shit,” he growled angrily.

“Rory’s on self destruct, he has been for years.”

“I get that, but I just ... there’s about a thousand and one fucking things that I can’t stand him for,” his grip on her hand tightened, “Tell me you never fucked him after me ... tell me you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” she soothed, and then, seeing the relief on his features, feeling his disappointment that she’d not told him she loved him, “I ... um ... I never did, I mean, I never have, I couldn’t ...”

“But you said you had, you told me before the first time ... you said it was Rory?”

“I panicked, I didn’t want you to ... ask too many questions. I didn’t think it would matter, or that we’d be ... you know, together, I thought it would be one time. And I hadn’t told you about ... everything yet, but I knew that you’d know I wasn’t a virgin, so I just said the first name that popped into my head.”

She prayed that he understood – that he could see why she’d lied about something that had needled at him for so many years, and she clasped her fingers around his much larger hand tightly. He actually closed his eyes and sighed with relief, leaning his head back against the cushions before speaking softly.

“I know I have no right to hold it against you, to be with anyone else when we weren’t together, but it fucking physically hurts to think of it.”

Moving to straddle him, she laid her arms around his thick neck, bringing her lips to hers for a soft kiss. For once, he allowed her the lead, so that the touches were gentle, and coaxing, as she delicately ran her tongue over the seam of his lips, urging him to accept her. She moaned into his mouth as he did so, smoothing her chest flush against his, so that there wasn’t even a whisper of air between them.

“Every time you touch me,” she murmured, “It’s as if I’ve never felt another man – ever. I wish it was only ever you, I can’t tell you how much I wish I could give you that.”

He growled, standing suddenly, her long legs wrapped around his lean hips, and his hands on the back of her thighs to hold her in place.

“Well, I’ll be the fucking last!”

She giggled as he threw her back against the soft covers on the bed a few moments later, his body prowling over hers, the denim rough against her bare legs.

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They drove home the next evening, having spent a day completing the paperwork for Shannon’s flat, and handing over the keys to the Estate Agent.

Nate had inspected the flat, and arranged for all of the stuff that Shannon had put into storage to be taken back to Tori, so that she would keep them there. Shannon hadn’t wanted to see the flat again – not after what had happened.

“What .. uh, what happened to Molly?” he asked suddenly, at one point in the dim light on their journey, his voice awkward, and nervous, as though he worried about upsetting her, “I mean ... after? Is she, I mean, is there a ... is she in London?”

She reached a hand over to his strong thighs, feeling the muscles tense and relax as he worked the pedals, and he visibly sighed in relief at the contact.

“You can ask about her, you know,” she said softly, “You do have a right to know, don’t feel like you can’t because you’ll upset me. She was your child as well, you don’t have to tread on eggshells.”

“Thank you,” he took a hand from the steering wheel to clasp hers for a moment softly, before moving to the gear stick between them.

“No, she’s not in London. She was cremated. I have her ... at uh, she’s at Tori’s. I’m still trying to ... I don’t know, work out how to set her free I guess. Nothing felt quite right.”

She’d thought about it a lot over the last four years – she wanted to spread them somewhere, but London had never seemed the right place. Everywhere there felt too ... cold. Anonymous. It hadn’t ever felt right.

She wanted to do this one last thing for her daughter, but it was such a final goodbye, that she just felt it would have to be perfect.

Nothing had been perfect.

“You want to do that?” he asked quietly, his knuckles white around the wheel, “To spread them somewhere?”

“I think so. Well, no actually, I know that I do. But I don’t know where, really, I need it to ... feel right, I guess. Maybe we can figure something out one day ...”

Wistfully, she stared out of the passenger window, watching the scenery fly past as they sped down the dual carriage way.

“She was born in November, right?” That was the date he’d seen on the birth certificate ...

“The third,” she said quietly.

“Then we probably ... you probably conceived on the beach then,” he cleared his throat softly, pained memories floating through his mind at that place, those times, when everything had seemed so perfect but there were demons and shadows everywhere.

Thoughtfully, she looked over at his profile, watching the emotions race across his face; sadness, emptiness.

“No, I think you were right the first time,” she smiled softly, “We made her, I wasn’t alone. And I think the beach is a beautiful idea, I like that.” They were both lost in their thoughts for a moment, both quiet and musing. “I will always be sorry that I forgot that – that she was both of ours - when I ran away, you know that right?”

He nodded, lifted her hand from his leg, and kissed each fingertip.

“I don’t need anything back from you, I know you’re not ready,” he said softly, “And it’s completely inappropriate timing, because I can’t even look into your eyes when I say it ... but I fucking love you ... I adore you. There is nothing you have to be sorry for ... ever.”