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Be with them.
15
I could be lyingin a bath, I’m so wet. I can’t move, my body pinned down. I peek out the corner of my eye, not wanting to disturb her, not wanting her to see me like this, sweating and haunted. She’s dead to the world. And still clinging to me. I exhale and look up at the ceiling, fighting the dreams away. I can close the door, shut out the world and my past. But I’ll never be able to shut it out of my mind. I’m exposed, vulnerable, unable to fight away thoughts if I’m unconscious. “Fucked up,” I whisper, scrubbing a hand down my face as I splay my hand across Ava’s back, feeling her.
And it’s another day, with less than a great start.
I can change that. Turn things around. Start as I mean to go on. And perhaps in the process, completely knacker her out so she cries off work. Perfect solution.
Ever heard of codependency, brother?
“Yeah, you can fuckrightoff,” I mutter, gently breaking away from Ava’s warmth. And yet I smile, because as fucked up as it is, hearing my brother, it tells me of the kind of man he would have been.
Sarcastic. A joker.
Where the fuck has all that time gone? “We’ll be thirty-eight on Monday, bro,” I say quietly, locating my running gear. “Thirty-fucking-eight.”
You’re only as old as the woman you feel.
I break out in laughter, getting my foot caught in my shorts and hopping around, trying not to fall flat on my face. I fail, losing my footing and hitting the deck with a loud thwack. “Fuck it,” I grunt as I land. I laugh again. And shut up the moment I detect stirrings in my bed. Quickly getting my shit together, I get up, pull my shorts up, a vest on, and swipe up my trainers from the floor. Then plonk myself on the end of the chaise to get my feet in them, shaking my head to myself.
Section me.
Just do it.
As I tie my laces, I spy Ava out the corner of my eye sitting up in the bed, watching me. And by the time I’m done, she’s silently lowered back down to the sheets. Bless her. I stand and creep over, watching the rise and fall of her chest. I’ve watched this woman sleep no end of times. I know the pattern of her breathing. The form of her mouth. The flutter of her lashes when she’s dreaming. Her attempts to fool me are an insult.
I kneel on the edge, silent. One of her eyes opens slowly, and my smile widens. The indignation is instant, and she throws her body onto her front, hiding under a pillow. I chuckle as I yank it away and flip her onto her back. “Good morning.”
“Please don’t make me,” she says around an adorable pout.
I ignore her pleas and pull her up. “Up you get.”
She moans and gripes, genuinely looking like she could burst into tears when I pass her gym kit over.
“I want sleepy sex,” she whines. That’s adorable too. But I need to run. And I need Ava. So I’m taking both. “Please.”
I get her up and remove her knickers. “It’ll do you good.”And me.
“This is torture.”
Torture? She knows nothing of torture. “I like having you with me,” I say softly, helping her into her things, ignoring her persistent protests and moans.
I take us down in the elevator, smiling at her disgusted face the whole way. She isn’t impressed, so when she voluntarily starts stretching in the car park, I’m pleasantly surprised. I join her, giving my hamstrings a good pull, aware of the admiring coming my way. She appreciates the view.
“Ready?” she asks, running off, her strides full of bounce. I shake my head as I go after her, wondering why the fucking hell she protests so hard all the time.
“Just think,” I say, slowing my pace when I make it to her. “We can do this together every morning.”
The quick, shocked inhale tells me what she thinks of that. But she’d do it. And, naturally, when we’re done, she’ll get a reward for indulging me. I glance down at her often, my pace half that of my usual speed, but my peace this morning is found from the company rather than the need to run until I feel like I might keel over.
“Hey,” I say as we approach the point at which Ava gave up last time, seeing her looking back, her expression blank. Not strained. Not accomplished. Just vacant. Something’s on her mind.
She looks up at me. “I’m fine.”
Really? Because she doesn’t look it, and that smile she just forced was lame. She starts to slow down, and the second an opening into the park appears, she diverts off the street and flops onto the grass on a loud huff. “I did better than last time,” she pants as I stand over her. What a woman. It only proves that she can conquer anything if she puts her mind to it. My running route is no easy feat, and yet this time she knowingly took it on. Like she’s knowingly takingmeon.Or not so knowingly.
She is strength. Perfection. Determination. But, again, there’s definitely something on her mind this morning. “You did, baby.” I lower beside her and take a leg, rubbing some life back into it. Her moans are glorious. “I’m proud of you,” I say, swapping for her other leg, working firmly into her flesh. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should be leaving her to seize up so she can’t move, therefore can’t leave Lusso. “Give it a few days and you’ll fly through it.”
