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“Oh, okay.” I feel a sweep of disappointment. So this is it, then. Ultimately, it’s just been a one-night stand.
I shouldn’t be surprised. He told me himself that he’s not offering a relationship.
“When do you get back?” he asks.
“Not for a few weeks. I’ve got some kids’ parties booked in Christchurch, and some studying to do. Uni starts up again on Monday the seventeenth of April. I’ll probably fly up the Sunday before.”
He nods, still playing with my hair.
“I’m going away in May,” I tell him.
His eyebrows rise. “Where?”
“Australia, for eight weeks. I’ve got an internship at a law firm in Sydney.”
“Oh. That’ll be an adventure.”
“Yeah, I guess. Mum knows one of the partners and got me a place. I thought it would be interesting. Now I’m half regretting it, but…” I shrug.
“It’s a great opportunity,” he says. “Would you consider working in Australia?”
“Dunno. Maybe. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
We lie there for a while. He continues to stroke my back and play with my hair.
“Catie will probably have the twins soon,” he says. “Apparently they’re likely to be born early.”
“Oh, you’ll be an uncle!”
“Yeah.” He takes a strand of my hair and curls it around his finger. “It’ll be odd, Saxon having two babies. Things are changing, you know?”
“Yes, I know what you mean.” I draw a finger through his chest hair. “Your birthday’s on the nineteenth, isn’t it?” I ask. He nods. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing exciting planned.” He tugs the strand, then lets it slide through his fingers.
I bite my lip. I want to ask him if I can see him again, but I don’t think I could cope with the rejection I’m certain I’d get. So I don’t say anything, and neither does he.
He cups my face and kisses me. Then he rolls over and gets up. He collects his phone and taps something in. To my surprise, music starts playing. I don’t know the song, but it’s slow and sultry. The singer is saying that he and someone called Mrs. Jones have got a thing going on.
Damon turns to me and holds out a hand.
“You’re kidding,” I say. He shakes his head. Starting to smile, I accept his hand and he helps me up.
He collects the duvet from the bed and wraps it around us both, pulling me tightly against him. Keeping a hold of both ends with one hand, he slides his other around my waist, and we begin to dance.
“You old softie,” I murmur, lifting my arms around his neck. Mmm. I’m now pressed up against his warm body. “You act like you’re a bad boy rebel, but you’re an old romantic deep down, aren’t you?”
“Only with you,” he says, kissing me.
He’s told me he has a praise kink, so I know it’s obviously his thing to give women compliments, and to want to make them feel wanted and adored. I mustn’t think I’m anything special.
Despite it being a one-night stand, he does make me feel special, though. And for that, I’m immensely grateful.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Damon
