AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I held up a bottle of the twenty-five-year single malt and Amanda nodded. She was stalling but I’ll wait for as long as she needed. I handed her a glass and she continued.
“Every call I make to home, though? I miss them more. Every call, I feel everything I’m doing here is dull and unimportant. They’re polite and ask questions when I tell them about work but I don’t think they really understand what I do. They are there, and me, I’m in London, still.”
Her eyes implored me to understand. I nodded, wanting to hold her against me and assure her I understood completely.
“Just like the song.”
“The song?” I asked.
“Oh, The Waifs. An Aussie band with a tune that’s kinda an anthem for those who do a working holiday in the UK, and become homesick while they are here. I was listening to them and I think that’s why I had to call.” She swiped her eyes. “Anyway, Mum said something that I can’t stop thinking about. All this time I thought she had to choose between being with Dad and being her, and I was so wrong. I’m rather ashamed I’d got it so wrong, to be honest.”
She turned to me; head held high.
“For the record, I don’t regret my actions. I’m mad at myself for giving in. Not being professional. And I’ve jeopardised my promotion by my lack of self- control and I understand if you want someone else here to do the audit.”
“I want ye to stay. Because you’re good at your job. Ye up for a promotion?”
“Yes, if I do well on this audit, Michelle said I would finally get the promotion I’ve been working towards for the last four years. But,” she twirled a strand of her hair between two fingers. “Can I confess something?”
Can fingers be jealous? I was certain all ten of mine were jealous as fuck right now.
I couldn’t afford jealousy or any other feeling; I had no idea where we were at. I gulped my whisky, letting it burn on the way down.
“Of course.” My voice was rough from the drink. “Ye can tell me anything.”
“I’ve never stopped wanting you since we first met at George’s.” She wrung her hands. “But we both promised each other at the train station this attraction wouldn’t get in the way of this audit. And it did and people got hurt.”
“People got hurt because of me. I jumped to conclusions and acted without thinking or talking to ye. Not because of how I feel about ye.”
“How do you feel about me?” She whispered the words so quietly I could have believed I imagined them.
I moved so close our noses touched.
“Hen,” I murmured against her lips. “Every day, every time I see ye, I can’t help but want ye. And I don’t just mean sex, I mean I want to be yours and ye mine.”
I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. I nibbled at her bottom lip; tasting her, teasing her. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss and turning into a slow, deep caress.
Listening to her talking about her family, her yearning for home, the pride in her work and feeling so out of place: I felt it all, too. Being with her made me feel like I did fit in somewhere. That feeling kept getting stronger every time we were together, every time we spoke. Every time I saw her.
How long had it been since I’d kissed someone to soothe them? Savour them? Adore them? In fact, had I ever done this?
A new song cued up on my playlist, about indoor fireworks, by a Scottish band, Biffy Clyro. That’s exactly what this kiss was like: tiny fireworks going off in the flat, in my mind, in my heart.
My cock was painfully hard. I broke the kiss; tonight wasn’t meant to be about kissing, or anything else carnal.
We needed to clear the air, set things straight.
We broke apart. Amanda’s eyes were dazed. I rested my forehead against hers, breathing her in.
“Hearing ye talk about your family, your job, everything, and the ache you feel? Well, I feel it too. Ye talk about them with all of your heart, with honesty and pain.”
She sighed, her eyelids fluttering.
“I don’t regret what we did today. Please, hen, tell me now if ye plan to cast me aside, but know this, I want ye. And I’ll wait for ye. For as long as ye need.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
“What are ye saying, hen?”
