The Harder They Fall (42 page)

“So,” he said, clearing his throat, “what’s the plan for today. Anything?”

“Nope. Probably go and have an explore of the woods, but I’m up for sitting around and drinking beer for the next seven days. You?”

“There’s a sports centre in the next clearing up, apparently. If I can be bothered, I’ll take a walk up and see what they’ve got on offer. Otherwise, I’m happy to keep you company while you drink beer, make sure you don’t get lonely.”

“Sounds good on both counts. Let me know when you’re going. I might come with you.”

“Well, I’m off to take Casper for a walk,” Shaunna said, rinsing her plate and loosening her still-damp curls with her fingertips. She went to her room to grab her shoes and Casper’s lead. “See you later.” Dan watched her give one last swish of her auburn locks on the way out.

“Her hair is damn hot,” he said. Andy had been thinking the same thing. “Don’t tell Adele I said that.”

“Goes without saying, bro.”

Shaunna knocked at Kris’s cabin and waited. It was Jess who opened the door.

“Hi,” Shaunna said brightly. “Is Kris up yet?”

“Come in,” he called. Jess turned and walked back inside. Kris was tying his shoelaces and now had to contend with the big stupid Labrador’s nose, as he acted like they’d been separated for weeks, not hours.

“Casper, shift!” He pushed the dog to one side and pulled the lace tight. This only reinforced Casper’s belief that it was a game, and he went tearing up and down the cabin at speed, poking his nose at Kris’s hand each time he completed a circuit.

“Come on then, mutt,” Shaunna called.

Casper pushed past as they descended the steps, and the three of them headed off into the trees behind the cabins. Jess flopped onto the sofa and looked at her phone despondently. There was very little signal here, although some places were better than others. She went out to the balcony and checked the screen again, just as a text message arrived. She read it and smiled, sending a reply back straight away.

Inside, George was wide awake, but didn’t want to move. As he’d come to, he’d felt the presence of someone else behind him, and it had taken a moment or so for him to remember. Since then, Josh had stirred and put an arm over him in his sleep. It was the best feeling and hence he wanted to stay right where he was. He lay there for some time, taking in the sensation of having him so close and the prolonged body contact. He could feel himself becoming aroused. It would pass. Hopefully. Josh stirred again and his fingers brushed against George’s bare side, where his t-shirt had risen up during the night. Even though the hand was cold, the touch was like fire and it made him buck. Josh pulled the fabric straight and laid his arm over the previously exposed place.

“Josh?”

“Mmm?”

“Are you awake?”

“Mmm.”

“How long for?”

“A while.”

“Oh.” George smiled to himself.

“Why?”

“No reason.” He was concentrating all of his energy on pushing away the erotic thoughts charging into his mind without permission. “I need a pee.” He slid across the mattress, and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. That was easier, without the physical contact. Slowly, with his back to the bed, he sidestepped through the small gap between the footboard and the wall, then made a dash for the bathroom. When he opened his eyes, it was upon his reflection in the mirror above the toilet and he looked away, suddenly bashful. The coldness of the water on his face soothed away the guilt and gave him back some rationality. He turned off the tap, rubbed his hands with the towel and went to make coffee.

So that was the first big challenge fought and won, and in the aftermath, he was starting to comprehend what it was going to take to really ‘be OK’ with what was required of him if and when their relationship took off properly, for at present it still felt more like a prelude; a series of courting rituals halted before they could reach their natural and much more gradual conclusion, simply by the geography of this cabin. As he waited for the kettle to boil, he examined his surroundings in a new morning’s light, feeling a sense of both gratitude and loathing for what the building had brought into being. He and Josh had spent their first night together; it matched no prior fantasy he had encountered, apart from the waking up beside each other, the warmth of their bodies welling and mingling beneath soft, perfumed linen, an arm wrapped around him. It was stirring in him again and he found a welcome distraction in watching Jess, just outside the French doors, smiling and talking into her phone, idly pushing at a knot in the banister rail with her thumbnail. She sensed that he was watching her and turned away. The kettle came to the boil.

Back in the bedroom, Josh was sitting cross-legged, the duvet cast to one side and pillows positioned in an ad lib fashion against the wooden headboard. He saw the coffee and smiled.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the cup from George and shuffling over to make space. Instead, George sat on the other end of Josh’s side, mirroring his pose.

“You know when you stay in a hotel?” Josh asked. “That first night, in a strange bed, when it’s almost impossible to sleep and you’re glad when the alarm releases you from the scratchy covers and pillows that aren’t yours? Well, that’s what I was expecting last night and I wasn’t looking forward to it at all.”

“But?”

“But I slept right through. Eight whole hours of glorious, undisturbed sleep. I feel unbelievably good this morning.”

George thought on this statement; having shared a house with Josh for the past nine months, not to mention the short time after he first returned from the States, he was aware of the bouts of acute insomnia, and at the best of times, it was rare for a whole night to pass without hearing him get up at least once. Being the sort of person who could fall asleep anywhere and had no trouble getting back to sleep if woken, George wasn’t bothered by being disturbed every night and didn’t mention it. He worried for Josh though, especially when he detected an increase in the frequency of his awakenings, for it came and went in a relatively predictable pattern. The last few weeks had seen an escalation from one or two nightly visits to the toilet, to hearing him go downstairs and turn on the TV, where he would sometimes stay for as long as three hours before he felt it was worth returning to bed.

The gentle touch of Josh’s fingers on his cheek. “What’s on your mind?”

“Lots.”

“Tell me.”

“Just then? I was thinking about your insomnia. It must be difficult to cope with.”

“It used to be. When it first started, I regularly went for three or four nights at a time without sleeping at all, although I was working on my dissertation, so it was probably self-perpetuating. Other than that, the only time it really got to me was ‘the dream’, but it’s normal for me, so I try not to worry about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” George asked hesitantly. He hadn’t considered how he was going to word the question, and didn’t want to put any pressure on him, but their knees were touching and he needed to address it.

“Go on.”

“It’s about the sex thing.”

Josh sipped his coffee, hoping for a ‘couldn’t care less’ effect, even though his heart had quickened and he was dreading what came next.

“It’s only a little bit about the sex thing,” George reassured him. “You see, other than that one hug when I came back from the States, you’ve avoided bodily contact with me since we left school, and I understand it was because you didn’t want to mislead me. But what I don’t get is why that suddenly changed, not that I’m complaining, although it’s hard, err, what I mean is…”

“It turns you on.”

“Yes,” George blushed, “that’s where I was going. Like when we were getting ready to leave for the reunion, and you fixed my tie. It was almost more than I could stand, because you’d never done anything like that before. And then in the limo, you held my hand. Your hand was so cool and smooth and I wanted to—I’m really confused. To wake up with you this morning, with your arm around me and your fingers on my skin; I’m fighting with everything I’ve got, I really am, but I just don’t know how to respond.”

“How would you normally respond?”

“Normal doesn’t apply.”

“Why not?”

“Because normally it might lead to sex.”

“Ah. I see.” Josh closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He wasn’t ready to compromise yet, to seek out some middle ground that would satisfy them both. “How do you want to respond?” he asked.

“Well, ignoring the really dangerous situations, like when I woke up this morning with…” George swallowed and reworded. “Feeling very aroused. Forget that bit for now.”

Josh laughed. “OK. It’s forgotten.”

“I don’t believe you, but anyway, when you touched my face just before, what I wanted to do was take your hand in mine and kiss your fingertips.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Boundaries, or lack thereof. If we go for a walk today, for instance, and you go to hold my hand again, do I leave my hand dangling at my side all unresponsive?”

“Like you have been doing.”

“Quite. Or do I hold your hand back? Am I allowed to put my arms around you in bed?”

Josh hummed thoughtfully.

“I said I’m OK with it,” George continued, “and that’s still the truth, although I need to know where the line is and even then I’m pretty sure I’ll step over it plenty of times, especially in the heat of the moment.”

“When does a touch become a caress?” Josh mused.

“That’s what I mean. How will I know if I’ve gone too far?”

“Which is why you resist when I do touch you.”

George nodded. “That and the whole getting hot under the collar thing,” he confessed.

Josh watched him blush again and turn away. “Can we try something?” he asked. He put his coffee cup to one side and shuffled down the bed, opening his legs so that they were now either side of George.

“Oh, this is dangerous,” he said shakily.

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it, although the only way I’m actually doing it is by pretending this is a consultation, not that I’ve ever done anything like this with a client, you understand, and I’m really nervous, but if we’re going to draw the line we need to find out where it is, because I really want to be able to touch you without you freaking out about it.” He kept moving forward, until his legs were bent up and he couldn’t get any closer. “Uncross your legs,” he instructed. George looked at him dubiously, but did so anyway. Josh gently removed George’s coffee cup and put it on the floor, then took his hands and positioned them on his own hips. “How are we doing so far?”

“Not so good.” George breathed out slowly and focused on the smoke detector above them.

“Did you want to go and—sort yourself out?”

“It’s not going to come to that just yet,” he said and they both started laughing at the innuendo. “Doesn’t this turn you on?”

“Yes, but only because it turns you on. I can’t…I don’t want…”

“It’s OK. I was only asking because I want to understand.”

“So do I.” Josh allowed him to move his hands away, wrongly anticipating that he would try and take it further. Instead, he lifted them clear of their thighs and took hold of Josh’s hands, lifting them to his face and kissing them in relief. Josh smiled encouragingly. “We’ll find a way, I know we will.” George kept his lips against Josh’s skin and closed his eyes. He was teetering on the edge of the most exquisite precipice and found he was enjoying the sensory overload, but it was no longer purely sexual. He opened his eyes again and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“I think I’m beginning to.”

Oliver hadn’t forgotten his father’s promise the day before, and was pestering him to go to the play area. James was about to tick him off for being impatient, but didn’t. He had eaten all of his breakfast, as requested, and had taken his bowl and cup over to the sink without being asked, which was where he was standing now, holding them up to Eleanor. It was difficult to say no when he was trying so hard.

“Come on then,” James said, strapping the papoose to his front.

“Leave Toby here, if you like,” Eleanor suggested.

“I thought you might prefer some time to yourself.”

“I would, but it’s a hassle having to carry the baby and push a swing at the same time.”

“We will cope, won’t we Oliver?” James smiled.

“OK then. See you all later.” She wiped her hands on a tea towel and gave each of them a kiss as they made their way outside, glancing up at the sky as they variously strode and trotted away. The weather was a bit on the dull side today, but it was dry and still quite warm. She finished tidying away from breakfast, then dug a book out of her bag and settled in the armchair for a quiet read with a cup of tea. It was so peaceful up here, and the signal on her phone was non-existent, for which she was very grateful.

In the absence of a Frisbee (on the kitchen table back home so they didn’t forget it), Casper was quite happy collecting pine cones, and the most muddy, smelly, half-decomposed ones at that. He was like a little truffle hunter, sniffling in amongst the fallen needles, scratching them back with his paw, before proudly carrying his prize back to whichever of his humans looked most likely to appreciate it. It was Shaunna’s turn and she praised him briefly, before he lollopped off in search of his next find; she surreptitiously disposed of the pine cone and wiped her hands on the closest tree trunk.

They’d been walking uphill for half an hour or so, and stopped to look back down the footworn path through the trees, the cabins long since out of sight, with nothing but greenery and the sounds of birds and other creatures around them. It was perfect. Kris picked up a fresh pine cone and sniffed it.

“I could live here,” he said.

“You so could not,” Shaunna retorted.

“I so could!” he protested. “It’s beautiful, and peaceful, and…”

“Missing all the little comforts of modern life. How long d’you think you could stand not being able to just hop on a train, or pop to the supermarket when we run out of milk?”

“Or to the petrol station to buy you chocolate?”

“That too,” she grinned. She eyed a large, flattish stone sticking up through the composted forest floor, brushed away the pine needles and sat down. Kris sat next to her.