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She couldn’t take the grief away; she knew that. But she wanted to say something. Something that would comfort him. And make him realise he had nothing to feel guilty about.
‘We all say stupid things we don’t mean to people we love. I bet I’ve said a lot more shitty things to my mum than you ever said to yours.’
A crooked smile crossed his lips and lifted some of the sadness. ‘I think you’re probably right about that.’
‘I know I am,’ she continued, heartened by his reaction. ‘And you don’t even want to know how many times I’ve wanted to kill Aldo.’
‘Yes, but it’s not as if you actually wanted him to die,’ he countered.
‘Actually, I did, especially when he got poster paint on my new Herschel backpack,’ she continued, glad when his lips twitched. ‘So, basically, if you’re a selfi
sh bastard, I must be a complete heinous bitch.’
‘Don’t say that. You’re not a bitch. You’re smart and incredibly pretty and you’re fun to be around.’ The words spilled out with such honest conviction, she thought her heart would burst it was beating so hard. ‘I love hanging out with you. You make me feel normal.’
Sympathy and tenderness thudded against her ribcage. ‘Then you have to believe me when I say, you’re all that stuff and a lot more. No way are you a selfish bastard, Trey. Because I used to go out with a real selfish bastard and I’m now an expert at spotting the difference.’
‘You think I’m incredibly pretty?’ he said.
‘I think you’re gorgeous, right down to that low-rent tattoo on your arse.’
‘It’s not on my arse,’ he corrected. ‘It’s on the base of my spine.’
‘Did you have to drop your pants to get it done?’
The smile twitched. ‘Maybe.’
‘Then it’s on your arse, mate.’
He chuckled, then tilted his head to rest his forehead against hers. His thumbs caressed her neck. ‘I want to kiss you so bad right now.’
‘Then do.’
He shook his head. ‘I can’t. It would be taking advantage of you.’
She framed his face with her hands, drew his mouth to hers. ‘Then I guess I’ll have to take advantage of you.’
She teased his lips, tasting the sadness, and the desperation, beneath the heat. His tongue met hers, their mutual hunger driving a connection that felt real and solid and significant as they sank into the kiss.
His breathing had become slow and sluggish when they finally parted.
‘I’m shattered,’ he said. ‘But I don’t want to be alone.’
‘Then stay here. And I’ll stay with you.’
He settled his long body on the sofa, and she tucked one of the throw pillows under his head. But when she tried to rise, he caught her wrist. ‘Could I hold you? I won’t try anything, I promise.’
She’d have loved him to try something. But that really would be taking advantage of him. So she nodded and lifted his arm, snuggling under it. He shifted onto his side, to give her more space, as they cuddled together. Her head nestled on his collarbone, his arms secure around her back.
She could feel the steady pump of his heart next to her ear as his breathing evened out. She inhaled the teasing scent of soap and laundry detergent, and the slightly sickly scent of flowers and air freshener, the smell of death that still clung to him.
But as she snuggled against him, she knew she’d never felt more safe, or more alive, in her whole life.
Chapter 21
‘I’m still not sure about this, Luke. Seeing you and me together is going to be enough of a shock for Lizzie without us turning up two days early.’
Luke hauled their suitcases out of the back of the cab and handed the driver a ten-quid tip. Halle stood on the pavement, chewing her bottom lip.
