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“O…kay.” An awkward silence ensues, so I try to fill it by asking, “Are you looking forward to tonight?”
He drags out a long sigh and tilts his head to look at me, his eyes not returning to the book this time. “What do you think?” he asks back, his words loaded with so much hidden meaning I don’t know where to begin in translating them.
“I think you should be excited?” I reply, my words rising at the end like a question.
“Well, there’s your answer, then,” he says, deadpan, placing the book down on the floor and rubbing his forehead with his fingertips.
I want to ask him if he’s okay, but just like me he clearly isn’t, and asking him will only lead to an argument, which is something I can’t handle right now.
Jesus Christ, did I make the right decision?
I’d thought so, but now it just feels like I’ve made everything worse.
Pulling myself together, I walk to my wardrobe and take out the skirt and blouse I plan on wearing. I need my toiletries bag, too. The problem is, it’s sitting atop the shelves just beyond Robert’s head.
“Could you pass me that blue bag?” I ask, pointing.
He looks to it, and then there’s a calculating gleam in his eye. “Get it yourself.”
Exasperated, I walk across the room to retrieve it. As I step over him to grab the bag, his warm hand suddenly clasps my ankle. I’m wearing shorts, thank God, because otherwise he’d be able to look right up my dress from this position. Still, his thumb brushes gently over a tender spot and I melt, closing my eyes for a moment and just…feeling it.
“Lana,” he whispers quietly. “Open your eyes.”
I turn my head a fraction to stare down at him. His mouth is open, and his chest is rising and falling heavily, mirroring my own. His other hand wraps around my other ankle and begins massaging.
“You look tense, baby,” he says in the low tone he only ever uses when we’re having sex or if he’s thinking about having sex with me. My entire body trembles.
“Don’t call me that,” I protest weakly.
Quick as a flash he’s brought his hands to the backs of my knees and is using pressure to push me down onto his lap. I straddle his thighs as his hands now move to the curve of my bottom. Between my legs I feel him instantly harden, and I can’t help but move a little to get some friction.
This is bad, really bad.
I feel my cheeks redden when he sighs and drops his face to the hollow of my neck. He takes a deep inhalation, breathing in my scent.
“Miss you,” he mumbles against my skin.
“Robert,” I start but don’t finish, not knowing what to say.
His fingers dig into my flesh, the pain agonisingly sweet. He pulls back to stare up at me, and our breaths mingle. A split second later rationality catches up with me, and I practically jump out of his lap.
“You should go,” I tell him sadly.
Rising to his feet, he stares at me, half tender, half fuming. “This is fucked up — you do know that, right? Are you trying to punish me for the past? Is that what this is?”
My brow furrows, confusion marking my features. “What? Of course not. I would never…”
“Forget it,” he snaps, striding past me and out the door. I stare after him for a long time before finally dragging myself into the shower.
Later on I feel bad for Sasha having to be the gooseberry between Robert and me as we sit side by side on the Tube. Her date Poppy is going to meet us at the stadium, so until then she has to put up with us both trying hard to ignore one another.
The walk to the stadium is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. There’s a buzz in the air, an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation among the crowds of people all moving in the same direction. Sasha spots Poppy standing by the entrance and runs over to greet her. She’s a really pretty girl, a natural blonde with big green eyes. Sasha gives her a short hug and a peck on the cheek, and my heart fills with emotion at seeing my best friend finally being her real self out in the open for the world to see.
“Lana.” I hear my name from Robert’s lips and turn from Sasha to look up at him.
“Things are going to be crazy in here. Promise you’ll stick by me and tell me if you’re feeling unwell.” There’s a pain in his eyes that almost makes me flinch. I hate what happened between us earlier.
“Okay, yeah. Thanks for looking out for me.”
He doesn’t reply, but the look on his face speaks volumes. Sasha and Poppy join us, and we exchange greetings before heading inside. The tickets happen to be for the standing area right by the stage. The place is already packed to the gills, and when we finally reach our section I notice we must be in some sort of VIP thingy, because it’s not as crowded and there are people all about wearing official-looking tracksuits — athletes from the games, no doubt.
This is one instance in life where I wish I could be taller. I can hear Emeli Sandé singing on the stage, but I can hardly see anything with the people standing in front of me. I crane my neck and instead watch the show play on the gigantic monitors overhead. Sasha and Poppy sway to the music, laughing and chatting with one another. When I glance at Robert, I see him smiling down at me. The amount of love in his eyes is something I have to try hard to ignore.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” he breathes. “We’re experiencing a moment of history right here, little red.”
“It is amazing, and overwhelming,” I agree, turning in a circle to take in the sheer size of the stadium and the thousands of people within it.
He laughs. “You’re too cute.”
I stick my tongue out at him and return my attention to the show. The exhilaration of being here lifts my spirits, and soon Robert and I are singing along and dancing to the music, for a time forgetting our differences. Madness are on stage performing “Our House,” and everybody’s chanting the lyrics. A moment later I feel two strong arms wrap around my middle.
