Fall From India Place

  Instead of being able to enjoy what they had, Joss was thinking one hundred miles down the road in front of them, fearing a bend in that road, one that they’d take too sharply and end up careening headlong into disaster.

  I understood how she could feel that way, now more than ever.

  The next week with Marco was exhilarating in its simple beauty. He spent every night at my place, including the weekend, and we made love. Sometimes it was sweet and sometimes it was wild, and every time it was mind-blowing. When we weren’t going at it like teenagers who’d just discovered the power of sex, we hung out like always. It was addictive. He was addictive. I felt so content I was scared of it.

  Distracted by Marco, distracted by my tumultuous emotions, I was behind on work.

  The following Thursday I knew I had to skip out on lunch and use that time and the free period I had next to catch up on my marking. My head was down, my stomach was growling, and I was lost in papers when a knock on my door brought me out of them.

  Although my heart jumped at the sight of Marco standing in my doorway, I frowned. “What are you doing here?” My eyes ran the length of him. He was wearing his work clothes. I tried to ignore the fact that I found him sexy like this.

  Marco shrugged, taking long-legged strides toward me and I noted the brown bag in his hand. “Anisha let me in at Reception.” He pulled a wrapped sandwich out of the bag and placed it on the desk in front of me. A bottle of water followed it. “You sounded stressed this morning.” Grabbing a chair he put it opposite my desk and sat down, pulling another sandwich out of the paper bag. “I just wanted to make sure you ate something.” A pucker appeared between his brows. “You’ve lost weight recently.”

  Touched by his thoughtfulness, I smiled as I picked up the sandwich. “The weight loss is because of all the sex. Someone hasn’t left me alone for the past week and a half.”

  He grunted. “Like you’re complaining.”

  I shrugged noncommittally and he smiled before biting into his sandwich.

  “FYI, I got my period this morning, so no sex for us for the next few days.”

  “Nice timing. I’ve got my family thing this weekend.”

  There was that sinking feeling back to piss me off some more. “Family thing. Right.”

  Marco shot me a knowing look. “Soon,” he promised. Changing the subject quickly, he gestured to my marking. “You can work, babe.”

  He sat quietly, eating his lunch, while I ate mine and did my marking at the same time.

  An hour passed in perfect, comfortable silence and by the end of it I couldn’t help myself.

  I felt it.

  That night I felt it even more. After I’d told him about my period, a small part of me (okay, a large part of me) assumed I wouldn’t see him that night since we couldn’t have sex.

  If I’d bet on that I would have lost big.

  After my literacy class, I returned to the flat to find Marco waiting for me. He cooked dinner. I read a book while he watched a movie. And when it was time for bed, we fell asleep on our sides, my legs tangled in his as he held me tight.

  It was weird not to have Marco stay the night on Friday, nor wake up to him on Saturday morning. We’d been in a relationship for less than two weeks, and yet it felt like it had been so much longer. I guessed that was the history between us playing its part.

  “I’m so bored,” Jo huffed, lolling her head back against the arm of the couch.

  I’d chosen to hang out with Jo this weekend. Since arriving at her flat, I was somewhat regretting that decision. “Gee, thanks.”

  “What?” she frowned at me. “What? Oh, no.” She waved my comment away. “I mean in general. Mick made me finish up work almost four months ago. I’ve literally read every book on the bloody planet. I’ve counted every crack in my ceiling a million times. I’ve seen more TV movies than I ever wanted to see in a lifetime. This baby needs to get out of me and get out of me soon.”

  I eyed her baby bump and put a fresh cup of tea down on the table beside her. She was almost eight months pregnant. “Not long now.”

  “I know.” She sighed wearily. “I’m so agitated. Ellie, on the other hand, is all relaxed and sweetness and light. I want to kill her,” she growled, and I believed she might have meant it. “Being pregnant together was supposed to be fun, but she’s ruining the fun by being normal and rational.” She said the word “rational” like it tasted like dirt.

  I laughed. “The old hormones getting to you, eh?”

  “I am such a bitch.” She widened her eyes in horror. “I don’t even recognize myself sometimes and I can’t stop myself when I’m in the middle of being a bitch. Cam’s turned Cole’s old room into a sanctuary. I even caught him looking at locks the other day. I think he’s genuinely considering fitting a lock to that bedroom door so he can keep me out.”

  It was difficult not to laugh at the visual and the fact that out of everyone, Jo would be the last person I’d have thought would be crazy with pregnancy hormones.

  She was right. Ellie had been very chilled out when she was pregnant with William, and she was just as laid-back this time around, if not more so.

  Suddenly Jo blanched. “I’m sorry, Hannah,” she whispered. “I don’t mean to complain.”

  “You’re allowed to complain. Don’t ever be sorry.” My phone buzzed before Jo could respond.

  Swiping the lock screen, I frowned at the text message that appeared.

  “Marco?”

  “No. It’s Suzanne.”

  So? New guy, no time for your girls?

  I held it up to Jo so she could read it. Jo curled her lip in annoyance. “Why are you friends with that girl?”

  Shoving my phone back in my pocket without texting back, I shrugged. “The hope had been that she’d finally grow up and become a real person, but so far no such luck.”

  “I’d just ignore her until she gets the picture.”

  “I’m not sure if I want to completely cut her out of my life. She was once a close friend.”

  “Pfft. Hannah, she’s never been much of a friend to you. Ever.”

  I exhaled, not really knowing what to do about Suzanne. The truth was, I hadn’t seen Suzanne or Michaela in weeks. I’d spoken to Michaela on the phone, and she was cool because she understood – she was just as busy with work and with Colin.

  However, after the run-in with Suzanne when I’d met Marco for drinks, my patience with her had frayed beyond repair.

  “Okay.” Jo shuffled up into a sitting position. “On to a much more interesting subject.” She grinned, looking like a mischievous little girl. “Marco: the high school fantasy come to life.”

  I laughed. “He’s definitely a fantasy.”

  Jo’s eyes lit up. “I’m guessing he knows what to do with that fantastic body of his.”

  Feeling more than a little smug I replied, “Oh, yes. Definitely.”

  “You should bring him over for Sunday lunch again.”

  “Now that we’re actually seeing each other I think it might be a little weird with you guys there… being all nosy.”

  Jo rolled her eyes. “We’re not nosy. We’re grown adults. We’ve got better things to do than spy on you.”

  “Liar.”

  “Okay, we probably would. Some of us have been cooped up for months, though. Your lusty romance with Marco is our only form of entertainment.”

  “Great,” I muttered.

  “So are you seeing him tonight?”

  At the reminder that I wouldn’t be seeing him because of his “family thing,” I felt my mood sink. “He disappears every other weekend. He says it’s a family thing and that he’ll explain when the time is right.”

  “Withholding information.” Jo raised an eyebrow. “How do you feel about that?”

  “What can I do?” I smiled sadly. “He’s not the only one withholding, remember.”

  Jo’s expression turned sympathetic and concerned. “Right.”

  Thankfully, the sound of the front doo
r opening broke into the suddenly gloomy atmosphere. “It’s me!” Cam called, his footsteps growing louder as he strode toward the sitting room. He smiled at me as he entered the room, carrying a white plastic bag. “Hannah, how are you, sweetheart?”

  “I’m good.” I smiled back. “You?”

  His eyes flicked to Jo. “Uh, aye, good.”

  It took everything in me not to burst out laughing at his hesitation. I was guessing Jo wasn’t the only one who wanted this baby to come out soon.

  “Did you get me them?” Jo asked him, her eyes riveted on the plastic bag.

  In answer Cam pulled out a packet of pickled onion crisps and a multi-pack of Kit Kat biscuits. Jo frowned at the biscuits. “They’re ordinary two-finger Kit Kats.”

  “Aye?” Cam asked in wary confusion.

  “I like the king-size Kit Kats.” She pouted at him. I’d never seen Jo pout in my life. “The four-finger Kit Kats. They taste better.”

  His answering smile was tight. “Fine. I’ll go back and get them. It’s only an hour’s walk to the supermarket and back.”

  “You don’t need to be snippy,” she snapped.

  Cam closed his eyes as if he was trying to draw patience from somewhere, anywhere. He opened them, looking at me. “Remind me that I love her.”

  Laughing, I did as asked. “Cam, you love Jo. The pre-hormonally challenged Jo. And give or take a month she’ll be back.”

  With renewed determination Cameron nodded and stalked out of the flat.

  I shot Jo a look of chastisement.

  She blinked in confusion. “What?”

  “You’re being irrational to Cam.”

  “Eh… no. I told him before he left that I wanted the king-size Kit Kats, not the ordinary kind. It’s not my fault he didn’t listen.”

  For Cam’s sake, I shuffled over to Jo and placed my hands on her bump. “Cool it in there, Pipsqueak, before your mummy is left alone to see out the rest of this pregnancy with only a king-size Kit Kat for company.”

  CHAPTER 16

  T

  o my delight and surprise, that Sunday afternoon Marco turned up at my door. He offered no explanation other than there had been a change of plans. It thrilled me that he’d come to see me immediately upon said change of plans, even if it bothered me that I didn’t know what said original plans had been.

  It thrilled me even more when he absconded with me down onto Princes Street to the German market. It was there every December for Christmas, along with the small fairground and the ice rink. We ate iced pastries, drank coffee, and held hands as we shuffled through the crowds. As we were walking through the gardens, the light fading, the Christmas lights twinkling all around, I smiled down at the ice rink in the distance.

  “That looks fun.”

  Marco pulled me tighter into his side. “That looks cold.”

  “I used to ice-skate in the gardens every Christmas when I was younger. I don’t know why I stopped.”

  “Because it’s cold.”

  “It’s worth it.” I grinned up into his face. “We should do it.”

  “There’s no way I’m putting my feet on ice.”

  “You won’t. You’ll put skates on ice.”

  “There’s no way I’m putting my feet in rented skates.”

  I stopped, probably annoying everyone who had to walk around us to continue down the pathway. “Please,” I pleaded.

  He stared at me, completely unmoved.

  Realizing this was one occasion where being adorable wouldn’t work for me, I changed it up. Instead, I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re afraid to skate.”

  “Reverse psychology? Really?”

  I huffed, laughing half in amusement and half in annoyance as I pushed against his chest. “Come on. I want to skate with you. We’ll be like a perfect, romantic Christmas card. Except not vomit-inducing.”

  Fifteen minutes later…

  “Hannah, I don’t think you should do that,” Marco warned, crossing his arms over his chest as I showed off.

  For someone who was as big as he was and who hadn’t skated much, Marco had great balance. He hadn’t fallen on his arse once, although he’d stuck to the outer edges of the rink in hopes that I’d let him disembark soon.

  I was surprised by how easily skating came back to me, how quickly my body remembered how to balance on the skates. I glided around the rink a couple of times, passing a slow-moving Marco.

  I wanted to show him the spin I used to be able to do, but people kept getting in my way.

  “It’s fine,” I promised him, smiling.

  I was having a ball.

  Seeing a gap in the stream of skaters I pushed back on the skates in order to give myself space to move forward into the spin. To my shock, however, I felt myself hit something solid.

  An “oof” sounded and then the solid weight collapsed behind me, taking my balance with it. I stumbled around, letting out a yelp, as I swung my arms to balance myself. When I turned, righted, my eyes bugged out in horror.

  Unfortunately, the something solid I’d hit was a girl who’d then crashed into a boy, who’d crashed into a couple, who’d crashed into another young woman.

  As chaos reigned and limbs splayed I could only watch in mortification at the ice rink devastation I’d created as other skaters skidded to a stop to watch them all hit the ice like dominoes.

  Groans and curse words lit the air as the crashers all sat up. My eyes jumped from one to the next to make sure there were no major injuries.

  A warm hand wrapped around mine and I found myself jerked back against Marco. “They’re fine,” he said through clenched teeth and yanked on my arm. “Let’s get you out of here. Now.”

  Realizing that was probably a good idea, considering the murderous looks aimed my way, I shot an apologetic glance at the casualties, who were regaining their footing quickly, and I ungracefully slipped and skidded as I hurried after Marco off the rink.

  With quick efficiency Marco got our skates off, our shoes back on, grabbed my hand, and started hauling me back up toward Princes Street.

  We were only halfway up the hill when he suddenly let go of my hand and looked down at me, appearing ready to explode. And then he did.

  His laughter was loud and infectious, and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

  My surprise soon melted into shared hilarity and I collapsed against his side, giggling like a madwoman.

  “Oh, man.” Marco finally calmed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I didn’t realize you were such a klutz, babe.”

  “I’m not! I just… don’t have the best spatial awareness. Obviously.”

  His body shook with laughter again. “That’s the fucking understatement of the year. Jesus, that was like a skit. You couldn’t have rehearsed it better.”

  “Should I prepare myself for a constant stream of teasing for the next few hours?”

  “More like years of it. Any time we see a pair of ice skates…”

  I harrumphed. “No one got hurt.”

  He snorted and I could tell he was trying not to lose it again.

  I punched him playfully. “You keep up the teasing, you’re not getting your Christmas present.” I’d bought him a Blu-ray player since he’d said he didn’t have one and I knew how much he loved movies.

  Marco looked down at me, pulling me in closer to his side. “You’ll still get yours.”

  My eyes lit up. “You got me a present?”

  “Of course.”

  “I like presents.”

  His gaze turned deeply affectionate. “Duly noted.”

  Warmth pulsed through me at the expression on his face. I held on tighter to him. “I kind of like you. You know that, right?”

  His answer was to stop us in the middle of the crowds again and kiss me like there was no one else around.

  After a lengthy, heated embrace, I pulled back to grin up at him. “You’re really cool.”

  He grinned back. “Good thing one of us is.”

  I narro
wed my eyes. “You have two hours to get the skating incident out of your system, and then no more.”

  “I object. Two hours isn’t long enough.”

  “It’s plenty long enough.”

  “The length of teasing should be in proportion to the magnitude of the incident. Babe, you just took out five people simultaneously on an ice rink. I’d say that’s at least the first five years of our lives together. One year per person.”