It Had to Be You (31 page)

He came towards her and they started kissing, this time more urgently. ‘Oh Lizzy,’ he murmured. ‘You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do this.’

At that moment Lizzy realized how many times she’d wanted to do this as well. To run her hands through Elliot’s thick hair, feel his lean, energetic body pressed against hers, inhale the scent of his subtle, woody aftershave. How many times had she looked at the freckle on the right of his bottom lip and secretly wondered what it would be like to kiss it?

Elliot scooped her up and, without pausing for breath, started to carry her across the living room. Suddenly all Lizzy could think was how heavy she must feel compared to Amber.

He must have sensed something was wrong. ‘Are you all right? It feels like you’ve gone into rigor mortis.’

Lizzy didn’t say anything. Elliot gently tipped her back on to her feet. ‘Are you all right?’ he repeated. ‘Hey.’ He tipped Lizzy’s chin up with his finger so she had to look at him. ‘What’s wrong?’ There was a pucker between his eyebrows.

‘Are you sure you’re over Amber?’

He stared at her for a moment. ‘Of course I’m over Amber. I’ve already told you that. I wouldn’t lie to you.’

Wouldn’t you?
she thought.

‘I mean it,’ he whispered. ‘You’ve got
nothing
to worry about.’

Very slowly he started to unzip the side of Lizzy’s dress. She felt his warm hand slide in and cup the soft flesh of her waist. His hand moved up to her ribcage, his fingers tantalizingly stroking the wired underside of her bra cup. This time a seismic eruption went off in Lizzy’s body. Without further ado she let Elliot sweep her back up into his arms and take her through to the bedroom.

Lizzy woke up facing an unfamiliar white wall.
Where am I?
was her immediate thought, followed by the more alarming
Why am I naked?
She always slept with her pajamas on, even when she was really drunk. The realization hit her a second later. She was in bed at Elliot’s!

Snapshots of last night flashed through her mind. Elliot on top of her, Elliot underneath her, Elliot doing amazing things with his hands, his tongue, his …

The bedroom was too quiet. There was no warm body behind Lizzy spooning her, nor the sound of someone breathing gently. Instinctively she knew she was in bed alone.

A quick roll over confirmed there was indeed a big Elliot-sized hole in the bed. She sat up and pulled the duvet round her. ‘Hello?’

There was no answer. Putting a pillow in front of her for modesty’s sake (like she had any of
that
left), Lizzy got out of bed and went over to the door.

‘Hello? Anybody here?’

Elliot wasn’t making breakfast in the sleek modern kitchen, nor was he reading the papers in the airy open-plan living room. Lizzy was utterly mortified. He’d done a runner! From his own apartment!

In the cold light of day he’d obviously taken one look at Lizzy – had she been snoring? With her mouth open? – and had decided that it had been a big mistake. Lizzy hugged the pillow to herself miserably. He hadn’t even stayed around for a bit of morning jiggery-pokery. Had she been
that
bad in bed?

The winter sun was streaming in through the windows, making Lizzy feel even more exposed and humiliated. Oh God, she shouldn’t have slept with him on the first night! This was exactly what happened with Poppet and Pencil Dick Pete! You gave men the magic key into your lady-garden and then they climbed over the wall and buggered off!

The next moment she was nearly ejected out of her own skin as someone burst through the front door. ‘Lizzy?’

Thank God!
she thought ecstatically.
You came back!

Elliot came into the living room with a large brown-paper bag and two takeaway coffees. ‘Nice outfit,’ he said dryly. ‘Are pillows the new lingerie?’

‘Dressing gowns are old hat these days you know.’

He put the drinks down on the coffee table. ‘Sorry, I should have left a note that I’d gone to get breakfast. Were you worried?’

She made a nonchalant noise. ‘Hardly. I’ve only just woken up.’

Elliot had a smirk on his face. ‘Not that I’m complaining about seeing your bare bottom, quite the opposite in fact, but there are a few hundred people walking past. I’m not sure all the young children are quite ready for that sort of sideshow.’

‘Oh my God!’ She jumped away from the window like a scalded cat.

The next moment Elliot had chucked the pillow on the sofa and was wrapping his arms round her.

‘You’re freezing!’ she protested.

His cold hands moved round on to Lizzy’s buttocks. ‘I was rather hoping you’d warm me up.’

The coffee had gone cold by the time they came to drink it. Lizzy sat by the window in one of Elliot’s shirts eating a fresh croissant. It took all of her willpower not to take a picture and put it up on Facebook
. #saturdays #croissant #london #riverview #winter #nofilter #IHADHOTSEXLASTNIGHT #hot #sex #last #night #lovingmylife
.

Elliot came back over with two home-made espressos. ‘What are your plans for today?’

‘I’m meant to be going Christmas shopping,’ Lizzy sighed. She watched a stream of fluorescent cyclists whizz past. ‘I promised myself I’d have it all sewn up by the middle of November this year.’ She glanced at Elliot. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m meant to be preparing for an interview on Monday.’

‘Your old mate the Chancellor of the Exchequer?’

‘Actually it’s the business secretary this time.’ He muttered something she didn’t hear.

‘What was that?’ Lizzy asked.

‘I said if I do any more research it will be coming out of my ears. Unless he decides to do something controversial before then like eloping with a cross-dressing troglodyte.’

Was that his subtle way of saying he was free? ‘Well,’ Lizzy said uncertainly. ‘I suppose the shops aren’t going anywhere.’

Elliot tugged on his ear, looking adorably bashful. ‘Do you fancy spending the day together?’

Firstly Lizzy had to address the issue of clothes. Thankfully she’d had the foresight to pack a pair of ballet pumps in case of an emergency blister situation and rather disgustingly, she’d found a pair of black leggings from yoga balled up in a side pocket of her bag. Put together with a sweatshirt of Elliot’s, a pair of his Arran socks and her black dress coat, Lizzy emerged from the bedroom wearing an ensemble that would have been described in certain parts of London as ‘eclectic’. Unfortunately just not the part that she was in.

‘Do I look totally mad?’ she asked as she came into the kitchen.

Elliot was standing by the espresso machine going through some post. ‘No more than normal.’ He opened his arms. ‘I think I’m starting to like mad.’

They emerged hand in hand into the crisp winter’s day. Lizzy was suddenly conscious of her ruffled appearance. Elliot had just been raking his hands through her hair in the lift in a most passionate manner. Annoyingly he was looking his usual smooth self. You’d never know such a wanton sex beast lurked within.

‘There’s something I’ve always wanted to do,’ he told her.

‘Are you taking me to see an art installation?’

He pinged one of her curls. ‘Don’t be such a philistine.’

‘I’m not! I’d love you to introduce me to more art.’ Lizzy crossed her eyes. ‘Expand my mind,’ she intoned in a silly voice.

‘Idiot.’ He pulled her off down the path.

‘You want to go
rollerblading
?’

They were at a hire place in a back street behind the Southbank. It would have been less of a surprise if he’d taken her to a Soho sex show.

‘I’ve always thought it looked fun, but I never had anyone to go with.’ Elliot looked like he was having second thoughts. ‘We can do something else if you want.’

‘Rollerblading is great.’ She hadn’t done it for years. Lizzy smiled at the guy behind the counter. ‘Have you got a size six?’

As Elliot seemed to be Master of the Universe in every other aspect, Lizzy was fully expecting him to be a natural. It turned out that he was absolutely dreadful.

‘Have you never done this before?’ she asked. They’d been going for ten minutes and they’d only gone a hundred yards down the riverbank.

Elliot was still gripping on to the railing for dear life. ‘I went rollerskating once when I was a kid.’

‘Only once?’

‘Funnily enough there weren’t many skate parks growing up in rural Dorset.’ He scowled at her. ‘Would you mind not skating backwards as you talk? It’s making me feel even more inferior.’

‘Sorry.’ Lizzy turned round and zoomed off again. This was fun! She was definitely going to bring her rollerblades up from home next summer.

‘Oi, Torvill, wait up!’

She swung round in an arc and waited for Elliot to catch up. ‘Remind me why you’re the bloody Roadrunner on wheels again?’ he panted.

‘You’re looking at Bromley Hawaiian Rollerdisco Queen, 1998.’ Lizzy waggled her eyebrows suggestively. ‘You should have seen me in my hula skirt.’

‘I’d rather have not, thanks. You’ve shown me a picture of you as a teenager.’

‘Now, now,’ Lizzy chided. ‘You’re really not in a position to mock me, are you?’

Elliot muttered something under his breath that didn’t sound particularly endearing.

‘Come on.’ She held her hand out.

‘Come on what?’

‘You and I are going rollerblading.’

He looked horrified. ‘This railing is the only thing between me and certain death.’

‘Don’t be silly. You just need to relax. You’ve done lots of skiing before, haven’t you?’

Elliot gazed down the crowded Saturday riverbank. ‘A black run is a walk in the park compared to this.’

Lizzy prised his whitened fingers off the rail. ‘Easy,’ she told him. ‘I’ve got you.’

They started to proceed along at a snail’s pace. Elliot wobbled along beside her, emitting frightened little squeaks.

‘You’re doing really well,’ Lizzy said encouragingly, as an old lady on a mobility scooter overtook them.

He dragged his eyes away from the path to give her an evil. ‘You’re loving this, aren’t you? Holding all the power.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said innocently.

‘Elliot?’

A smartly dressed woman stopped in their path, nearly causing Elliot to crash into her.

‘Didn’t have you down as a rollerblading man,’ she said amusedly.

Elliot gave a pained smile. ‘This is, er …’ He seemed unsure how to introduce Lizzy. To be fair, he did have other things on his mind at that moment.

‘Hello, I’m Lizzy,’ she said.

They both jumped as Elliot lurched backwards. Luckily he managed to grab on to Lizzy, nearly pulling her arm out of its socket.

The woman raised an amused eyebrow. ‘Are you all right there, Elliot?’

‘Perfectly fine,’ he gasped. ‘Just having a few teething issues.’

‘Well, don’t let me interrupt you.’ She smiled at Lizzy. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Who was that?’ she asked after the woman had walked off.

‘My editor.’ Elliot looked like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. ‘I am never going to live this down in the office.’

She had to hand it to Elliot for bloody-minded persistence. After forty minutes of sweat, toil and a lot of swear words, he had finally mastered it. He wouldn’t be topping the leader board for style any time soon, but at least she’d got him off that bloody handrail.

There was a clear stretch ahead of them. ‘Go, Elliot!’ Lizzy yelled as he pushed off ahead of her. He glided along and did a miraculous impression of someone who actually knew what they were doing, before coming to a rather ungainly stop at the top of a path.

‘You see!’ she called. ‘You can skate!’

Elliot’s wind-flushed face was triumphant. ‘Take
that
and shove it up your bloody Bolero!’

Really, did he have to be so ungracious in victory? The next moment Lizzy saw his eyes widen as he started to roll backwards down the path.

‘Put your brakes on!’ she shouted.

It was too late. Elliot started to pick up speed, arms flailing like a windmill. A mother with a pushchair had to leap out of the way.

Lizzy could only watch helplessly as he flew down the path and crashed into a low wall. His body did a slow-motion flip over the top of it and disappeared.

‘Elliot!’ She raced down the slope. He was lying in a crumpled heap on the ground, rollerblades still spinning.

‘Have you hurt anything?’ she gasped.

He sat up wincing. ‘Only my pride.’

They walked back to the hire shop in their socks, Lizzy doing it out of solidarity. ‘Are you sure, mate?’ the Australian guy behind the counter asked Elliot. ‘You’ve got another two hours.’

Elliot handed the boots back to him. ‘I think I’d better quit while I’m ahead.’

The rest of the day was spent doing less strenuous activities. They wandered down to Borough Market and ate gourmet burgers for lunch. Afterwards they walked along the river, past the Globe Theatre and the ugly grey
Financial Times
building at Southwark Bridge where Elliot worked. From there they walked all the way to the Isle of Dogs where Lizzy thought it would be funny to tweet a picture of the shiny new dockside with the hashtag #
gonedogging
.

‘You’re hilarious,’ Elliot told her. ‘If you tag me in that you’re going straight in the river.’

Saturday slipped seamlessly into Sunday and Elliot took Lizzy on a tour of the nearby City. London was cold and deserted and impossibly romantic, and they went to the most magical place Lizzy had ever been, a beautiful garden in a ruined churchyard that looked like something out of Arthurian legend. They ended up sharing a bottle of red in a cosy wine bar before Lizzy looked at her watch and realized it was nearly eleven o’clock. They had spent over forty-eight hours together. It felt like it had been forty-eight minutes.

Back on the street, Elliot put his arms round Lizzy’s shoulders.

‘I’m glad this happened.’ His eyes searched hers. ‘Us, I mean.’

‘I’m glad it happened too.’

They smiled at each other goofily. Elliot swept Lizzy up in another kiss. It was only a loitering cab’s yellow light that made him pull away.