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Callum woke me a few hours later for lazy, sleepy sex. He spooned me while he slipped in and out, cradling my breasts and nibbling my shoulder. I held onto his forearms, tracing the muscles as they contracted as he pushed in. Our heavy breathing escalated into soft moans of pleasure. The sun was high in the sky by the time we woke properly. I had no energy to leave the bed, which pleased Callum. I gave myself the day off from trawling around the charity shops.
“What are these?” I asked while tracing the thin white streaks on his abdomen.
“They’re stretch marks. I was an obese kid and teenager. It wasn’t until my dad died that I got into shape.”
“Oh God,” I said and sat up, the sheets dropping from my body. Callum’s eyes shot to my breasts, but I was too concerned that I’d never asked after his family before. “I’m so sorry Callum. How long ago did he die?”
“About ten years ago. My dad lived to a great age. He was a lot older than my mum when they met, almost two decades difference. He died of a heart attack which woke me up to eating healthily and getting fit.” Callum talked while he stroked my ribs and hip.
It didn’t make me feel any better that I didn’t ask after his parents. He’d met mine.
“I’m sorry you lost him so young,” I said and scooted further up the bed, bring the sheets with me.
“I have great memories of my father, he died a long time ago.” He said.
I stayed silent for a few more moments while I compared having no father to having one who was horrible.
“It’s ok, Adaline. We’re just getting to know each other. There’s so much I don’t know about you, and you don’t know about me. We’ll discover these things as we go along. One day you’ll tell me about the complications of your birth, but only when you’re ready.”
He kissed my lips before I could respond. I wanted to confess at that very moment, but the kiss took over my mind and body. I’d tell him another day.
Adaline
September arrived and so did Callum’s triathlon. We eventually had our date a few nights after my bike incident. Callum presented me with a brand-new bike in the morning. It was so light I could lift it with one finger. I loved it and didn’t give him a hard time for his extravagance. I needed a bike, and he needed a riding partner. Callum took me across the road to the tiny music venue to listen to a band he’d heard about. We shared tacos, stuffing our faces from a street vendor. Each night we slept in his bed. He still cooked for me while I quietly fumed at several emails that flooded my inbox for the charity ball. It was pretty much organised, and the charity was marketing like mad to sell tickets. Callum made me a bigger version of my table plan, and each night I played the game of musical chairs as each ticket sold. Callum continued to be my personal chef, and on the rare occasion we dined out. Neither of us liked sitting in a restaurant, least of all me. It was far too noisy, and I couldn’t make out different words from the background noise. In one restaurant, I couldn’t understand what the waitress said and asked Callum to order for me. He’d made me dinner for three straight months, he should know what I liked and didn’t like by now. It comforted me that he knew me so well that he could order my food at the restaurant.
I changed from visiting my parents from every two weeks to every three weeks, and Callum came with me. Neither mum nor dad made a comment about my change of routine. They were overly polite to Callum and told him their woes of getting a decent builder to fix their bathroom. I gave credit to Callum, he never budged on offering to help, although he asked me each time we left if I’d changed my mind.
I hadn’t.
We’d dropped off his bike at the triathlon event yesterday in preparation. The area was secure, but I wasn’t convinced that it would still be there the next day. The organisers assured me they had security men looking after the lock up over night. Callum had to drag me away from the man on the gate, before he got booted off the triathlon for his girlfriend’s over cautious behaviour. It was the first time he had called me his girlfriend out loud. I smiled when he said it and took his hand in mine. I hadn’t analysed what we were. It had never come up in conversation what I was to him, I didn’t want to label it in fear it would evaporate the next day.
We had hosted dinner every other fortnight with Steph, Elliott, Scottie and Felicity. I’d been waiting for them to ask what was going on between us but they never did. I saw the knowing glances between the four of them. We talked and drank until the early hours or until one of them fell asleep in Callum’s armchair. My life had changed for the better. Having Callum in my life lifted me to a level of happiness I’d always secretly hoped to have. Scottie cornered me every chance he got to encourage me to confess. He invited me to meet his mum who had been born deaf, but I shied away. I wasn’t ready to confront the issue. Life was too perfect to ruin it.
The five of us were sitting on a bench overlooking the sea while Callum went to talk to an event marshall about his bib number. The transfers that had been put on his arm had peeled off. Even with autumn fast approaching, the day was hot and sunny. I loved Brighton for its good weather, it rarely rained, and when it did, it wasn’t for very long. I couldn’t remember where my umbrella was or the last time I used one. As we ate ice creams, Elliott narrated the time he was stuck up a tree with Callum when they were kids. They climbed to the highest branch and straddle the thick branches like their hero in The Jungle Book. What they hadn’t considered was how they would get down. It was at that point that Elliott discovered he was scared of heights and clung to the trunk like a koala bear. He wouldn’t let Callum try to climb down for fear he would fall and die and then leave him up there to starve. Callum came back before Elliott could tell us how they got down out of the tree.
“I’m all set, my new numbers are firmly imprinted on my arm and will probably be still there when I’m eighty.” He said and tried to scrape away the edge of the number eight on his forearm.
“What are you doing first?” Steph asked.
“Swim for one and a half kilometres then it’s the forty kilometre cycle, and then a ten-kilometre run,” he told us. He’d leant against the green painted railings in his wetsuit. My eyes focussed on his thighs. I’d kissed every inch of those legs earlier that morning.
“I feel exhausted just hearing those words. I don’t know what possesses you to exert yourself so much.” She mock fainted against Elliott’s shoulder.
“It’s for charity, plus I like doing it. I’m hoping to be in the top ten.” He said.
There were hundreds of people milling about waiting for the competition to start. Music played over the tannoy, and all I could smell were freshly made burgers.
“I hope you’re in the top ten too, the sooner you finish, the sooner we can get to the pub and celebrate. Your self-imposed no drinking ban has been depressing. We will get hammered tonight on whisky.” Elliott announced.
I screwed up my nose at Steph, we both hated whisky. Wine was the preferred beverage or gin. Scottie high fived Elliott at his announcement of whisky and Felicity joined us in the wine club. We’d planned our celebratory night out weeks ago. If Callum was as fit as he thought, he should complete the triathlon within three hours. We would cheer him on the whole way, then we would all head back to my flat while he grabbed a shower. Dinner was already made. Several pizzas were already prepared and in the fridge. None of us were big drinkers and Steph had insisted that she needed to line her stomach with lots of carbohydrates before she ventured out to the pub. I had to agree that we were both lightweights for drinking. Callum hadn’t drunk a drop of alcohol in three months which left Scottie and Elliott the only seasoned drinkers.
“Gotta go,” Callum said and pulled me to his body. “Wish me luck?” He asked and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He lifted me to wrap my legs around his waist. He turned so that my bottom rested on the railings when he let me go. I hung on, hooking my feet on the pole below them, grinning like a lovesick puppy.
Steph rolled her eyes at our public display of affection. Callum looked to the others for their good luck wishes.
“I’m not kissing you, Callum,” Steph said as she hugged him. He grabbed his heart in a wounded gesture. He got a hug from Felicity and manly hugs from Scottie and Elliott.
“You’re all doing this with me next year,” he said and pointed at all of us. Our faces fell, and all smiles vanished. Callum chuckled as he kissed my cheek and jogged away.
