‘Sleep well?’
‘Great.’ Why does he look like someone’s broken some really crappy news? ‘Are you okay?’
He blesses me with a heart stopping smile. I feel instantly at ease. ‘I woke up with you in my bed wearing lace. It’s ten thirty on a Sunday morning and you’re in my kitchen…’ He runs his eyes down my front, ‘wearing lace. I’m amazing.’
‘You are?’
‘Oh, I am.’ He tips my face up, planting a light kiss on my lips. Oh, I could wake up to this every morning. ‘You’re too beautiful, lady.’
‘So are you.’
He brushes the hair away from my face, looking at me affectionately. ‘Kiss me.’
I fulfill his request immediately, taking his lips calmly and following the slow, gentle strokes of his tongue. We both hum in harmony. Oh this is good. But our intimate moment is broken by the loud, shrill of Jesse’s phone.
He grumbles and reaches past me, still maintaining our kiss. He glances up at the screen as he holds it over my head. ‘Oh, go away.’ he gripes against my lips. ‘Baby, I’ve got to take this.’ He pulls away and answers, keeping himself firmly between my thighs, his free hand around my waist. ‘What’s up, John?’ He starts chewing his lip. ‘What’s he doing there?’ He drops a chaste kiss on my lips. ‘No, I’ll be there…yes…see you in a bit.’ He hangs up and studies me thoughtfully for a few seconds. ‘I need to go to The Manor. You’ll come.’
I recoil. ‘No!’ I blurt. I’m not being yanked off of Central Jesse Cloud Nine by her!
He frowns. ‘But I want you to come.’
Absolutely not! It’s Sunday, I’m not working and I’m not going to The Manor. ‘You’ll be working.’ I search my brain for a feasible excuse for me not to go. ‘You do what you need to do, and I’ll see you afterwards.’ I reason instead.
‘No, you’ll come.’ he presses forcefully.
‘I’m not coming.’ I try to wriggle myself free of his grasp, but I’m going nowhere.
‘Why?’
‘Just because,’ I snap, earning myself a mighty scowl. I’m not about to start whining about Sarah and off loading trivial jealousies on him.
He searches my eyes. ‘Please, Ava. Will you just do what you’re told?’
‘No!’ I shout.
I watch as he closes his eyes, clearly trying to gather some patience, but I don’t care. He can force me to do many things, but I’m not going to The Manor. I sit on the worktop, waiting for him to disintegrate under my disobedience.
‘Ava, why do you insist on making things more difficult?’
‘I make things more difficult?’ I gape at him. It’s him that needs some sense fucking into him. He’s deluded.
‘Yes, you do. I’m trying really hard here.’
‘Trying hard to do what? Send me crazy? It’s working!’ I beat him away from me and storm out of the kitchen, hearing him curse as he follows me up the stairs.
‘Okay!’ he yells from behind me. ‘You will wait here. I’ll be as quick as I can.’
‘I’ll go home.’ I shout over my shoulder, continuing on my way and shutting myself in the bathroom when I get there. I’m not waiting around for him to come back. His being reasonable and relenting to my refusal to go with him has just been trampled by the follow up of “you will wait here”. I WILL do no such thing! I splash my face with cold water to try and cool down my raging temper. Why has he not given me the countdown? That’s what he usually does when I don’t conform. I hear him in the bedroom on his phone. Wondering who he’s talking to, I open the door.
‘See you in a while.’ He hangs up, throwing his phone on the bed. Who is he seeing in a while? He stands with his back to me for a long time, his head dropped. He’s thinking, and I feel like an impostor all of a sudden.
Eventually, he exhales heavily and turns towards me. He watches me for a short time before heading into the bathroom to take a shower. I stand in the middle of the room wondering what to do. He’s acting strange. No countdown; no manhandling. What’s going on? Yesterday was so perfect, and now I’m back to mind meltdown. It looks like I didn’t need Sarah to yank me off of Central Jesse Cloud Nine after all. I’ve managed to do that all by myself.
Ten minutes later, I’m still stood twiddling my thumbs, trying to work out what to do with myself. I hear the shower shut off. He comes out of the bathroom, heading straight into the wardrobe without a word. I’m troubled by his defeated expression that also harbours a bit of sorrow. I think I actually want him to explode or give me the countdown. I have no idea what he’s thinking, and it’s the most frustrating feeling in the world.