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“Yeah, well she was. Had a little girl. That little girl, as sweet as she is, was dropped on Mum’s doorstep a few weeks ago. Paris decided she wanted to travel and her daughter starting school was the perfect time to unload her and do just that. We moved, my sister pissed off, and now that little girl lives with us. So, I’m here in lieu of playing uncle.”
It all just flowed out of me in a rush. I didn’t want to admit that I felt a bit of weight lift off me, unloading my bullshit on someone else. It was a good feeling, immediately made horrendous by the realisation it was nice.
Piper was silent a beat. I wondered what she was thinking. Was she going to make me talk about my feelings some more? Or could we just get on with our lives?
“Oh, do girls’ panties not drop like they used to, the idea of a little girl hanging around you?” she sassed me, and I half-wished she was one of those girls.
My laugh was humourless. “Very funny. Excuse me if I don’t feel like dropping trou with the knowledge of what it leads to following me around the house incessantly.”
And as I said it, I realised it was true. I’d driven here instead of anywhere with a guaranteed lay – even before I knew Piper was there – because the idea of getting some chick pregnant was terrifying enough to keep my cock in my pants…for now.
“Oh, has Roman suddenly got a conscience?” she teased and I almost didn’t care about consequences.
“You’re cute like this, you know?”
My voice was heavy on the sarcasm, but I appallingly meant every word. I liked it. And cute was the only word I had to describe her. I hated the word, but I didn’t hate her.
“Sorry,” she snorted. “But I see you dealing with your problems in one of two ways. You fuck or you drink. I really don’t see a third option.”
I was surprised. I was impressed. I was hard. It was a novel combination of feelings.
“Firstly, I have never heard you say ‘fuck’ before. And secondly, you’re looking at that third option right now.”
“Yeah,” she scoffed. “Because you’re totally not dreaming of getting in my pants.”
Of course, I was. Although, dreaming was perhaps the wrong word. Dreaming implied planning. I wasn’t planning. I was intending to think of it as little as possible. Which kind of sucked, because right then I could think of little else, even with a five year old at home.
“Oh, I never said that,” I told her. “Any man with eyes is dreaming about getting in your pants, Barlow. And any guy who tells you otherwise is full of shit. Your precious Carter included. But it is a massive dampener to the inspiration when you keep remembering that sex leads to pregnancy. I came here with nothing but peace and quiet on my mind. I didn’t even know you were here.”
Look, none of it was lies.
“I can…go…?” Her voice was so soft and so hesitant, but thankfully her body didn’t move.
So I moved. Closer to her. “Nah, I don’t mind my peace and quiet being invaded by you.” And I didn’t. “You’re like…peace personified.” It was a wanky thing to say, but it was true.
I was never comfortable with people. I always felt like I was living up – or, more often, down – to their expectations. But as I lay there, my heart beat perfectly steadily in my chest. I breathed easily and evenly. I felt no overwhelming desire to drown my discomfort or anger in the closest bottle. I didn’t want to sink my fist in someone’s face. I didn’t want to stick my dick in whoever would spread their legs.
I was…almost content.
“Isn’t that just another way of saying I’m boring?” I heard the annoyance in her voice, but it was far more questioning.
I smirked, but there wasn’t any humour in it. “No, Barlow. It’s a compliment.” Why was I explaining this to her? And why couldn’t I stop? “Lying here with you… It’s like I can relax, but I don’t have to be alone. Fuck, don’t make me explain it. I’ll just sound like some nancy wanker.”
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t go anywhere either.
A calm, comfortable silence fell over us and I just enjoyed our joint solitude. I watched the stars twinkling. I felt the soft breeze play over my cheeks. I felt no need to run, to smoke, to move. I didn’t even feel the need to roll on top of her and break this just…being.
I could have lain there all night, but finally she broke the bubble.
“Lombardi?”
“Yeah?” I replied lazily.
“What’s she like?”
I frowned, confused. “What’s who like?”
“Your niece.”
