Eternally North (13 page)

With that Tink sighed,
shook his head in exasperation, and blew a kiss as he opened the
bedroom door, off to tell our guests the change in plan.

A night with Tudor
alone, this should be interesting!

I opened my blurry
eyes, waking up to someone gently caressing my arm. “What the–?"
I croaked.

“Tash, it’s me, you
fell asleep. I need you to take these tablets and put this on your
head.”

Tudor held out the bag
of frozen peas wrapped in a towel and a bottle of pills. I tried to
sit up, and felt a sickening throb in the back of my skull.

“Steady, Tash. Here
let me.” He moved towards the bed, and I noticed he had shed his
jacket and beanie hat.

He crawled onto the bed
and lifted my head gently, manoeuvring the cold bag into place, his
black tribal tattoos all on display, winding seductively around the
sleeve of his arms down to his wrist and creeping out of the V-neck
of his T-shirt.

“You have a shaved
head,” I involuntarily blurted out.

Way to be cool,
Tash.

Tudor glanced down at
me and gave me the lopsided smirk. “Err… yeah. I normally do,”
he smiled, obviously bewildered by my Tourette-like assessment of his
follicles.

I blushed and beamed
red. “I just kept wondering what it looked like under the hat
that’s all – I wanted it to be shaved.”

He smiled shyly. “Well,
I'm glad to be of service.”

Tudor handed me the
pills and a glass of cold, refreshing water, and watched me closely
to make sure I swallowed them. He guided me back to my pillows and
set the glass on my bedside cabinet.

I shuffled to make
myself comfortable, pulling down my piggy hood with ears and run my
fingers through my nearly dry hair.

Tudor sat back and
positioned himself on the bed beside me. “What you watching?” he
asked, flicking his chin in the direction of the TV.

I looked up to see an
infomercial advertising some industrial-strength carpet cleaner.
“Nothing, I was asleep." I glanced covertly at the Greek god
sprawled out on the left side of my bed. "Are you staying in
here now?” I couldn’t help thinking that having him there looked,
well… well… fucking incredible, truth be told.

Tudor grabbed the
remote off my lap and began flicking through the channels. “I have
been given orders to stay with you and keep you awake. I thought it
would be easier to just lay here with you than keep running back and
forth from the living room,” he replied, settling on a music
channel and lightly placing the remote back on my lap.

“Orders?” I asked,
trying to focus on Nicki Minaj jumping around in a pink bikini
singing about Starships.

“Yep, from Herr
Tink,” he winked and smiled.

Mortified, I shifted my
gaze his way. “Oh no, I’m sorry. What did he tell you to do?”

“Hang on.” Tudor
slid off the bed and went into the front room. He came back with a
pink, laminated sheet of A4 paper. “He left me this.”

I cringed.

Clearing his throat to disguise his
laughter, he handed me the sheet, which I saw was entitled:

‘
Mission:
Keep Tash Alive’

“When did he do
this?” I asked, shaking my head lightly.

“Before he left. He
had it printed out already and stuck to the fridge, but he laminated
it about an hour ago in case I ruined it with my clumsy sausage hands
and forgot what to do, thus causing me to fail in my task. Who has a
laminator in their bedroom anyway?”

I grimaced. “He can
be a tad dramatic. And the boy does love his stationery; he’ll find
any excuse to laminate. You should see the take-away menu drawer…
he has shares in Staples!” I tried to explain, but hey, it’s
Tink, and he beats to the sound of his own drum.

“It’s no problem.
I’ve noticed he is very protective of you, so I’m not surprised.”

He pulled the sheet
aside and climbed back onto his side of the bed.
His side?
At
that point, I suddenly remembered the scarf that he had left with me
was tucked under my pillow, which I realised may make me look like a
slightly crazy obsessed fan, rather than the detached and independent
woman that I clearly was.

Had he seen it? I
surreptitiously ran my gaze over where I had been lying –
phew,
out of sight.

“Yeah, he is. He just
doesn’t like me being hurt,” I explained, shifting my body to the
side to make it easier to talk.

Tudor mirrored my
position so we were facing each other about two feet apart. “Have
you been hurt badly before?” he inquired.

“In what sense? I’m
clumsy as all hell and have had a few bouts of illness, if that’s
what you’re asking?”

He nodded and began to
rub his lips together. He looked up guiltily. “What about with
men?”

Well that’s a bit
personal.

“Erm… well, my
ex-boyfriend was a huge arsehole who cheated on me in a spectacular
fashion. I had been with him for a few years and no-one serious
before that. I figured if he could do that to me then he wasn’t
worth it.”

I looked down to the
pillow avoiding his eyes. “That’s the reason why Tink is
protective of me; he was my rock during that fallout. My God, he
moved continents for me,” I let out a single laugh.

Tudor nodded silently.
“He seems to like Tate,” he said, moving the conversation to
slightly safer territory.

“Yeah. A lot I think.
I’ve never seen him react to anyone like this before. I’m happy
for them. Who knows? It could be love at first sight. Like Romeo and,
well,
Romeo!
” I teased.

Tudor grinned at my
joke. “I think Tate is smitten too; he doesn’t really talk much
about what’s going on in his head but I can tell. He’s a total
introvert. I think Tink will be good for him, he might be able to
bring him out of his shell. I’m glad. He copes with a lot working
for me and never gets to meet anyone on a long term basis. Luckily,
I’m here for a few months before pre-production starts on my next
film. It may be the perfect time for him to meet Mr. Right.”

“Yeah I’m glad too,
but then they have only just met. Can something that profound really
happen in twenty-four hours? Enough for that person to impact your
life to such an extent?” I mused sceptically, expecting him to
agree with me.

The muscled-demigod
turned and fixed his hooded dark green eyes directly on mine and
pierced me with a look. “I believe so.”

Holy mackerel,
Batman! What do I do with that titbit of information?!

Tudor suddenly changed
the subject again, breaking the moment. His muscular back tensed.
“Tink doesn’t like me much does he?” he asked quietly, avoiding
my eyes.

How do I answer
that? ‘No, he thinks you could potentially screw me over, shatter
my soul and never let me in that Helms Deep fortress you call a
heart.’

“He doesn’t know
you, that’s all. I don’t either really, and you don’t know
really know me. I only met you last night, for goodness sake!”

Tudor flinched at my
words and rubbed my calf that was resting on top of my quilt. “I
would like to know you. I don't understand it but I feel like I
already kind of do. It’s... weird.”

Well that is a
surprise.

He laid back once more
and I patted his huge arm. “You have to understand a few things
with Tink. He has very little family and the bit he does have are
deeply religious and believe that he is an abomination who will burn
in hell for eternity for being born attracted to men. When he was
fourteen he came out to his parents, I thought he was so brave and
encouraged it. Anyway, they freaked on an epic scale and sent him to
a summer ‘retreat’ in back-country Alabama for teens who were
sexually ‘possessed by the devil’. It was horrific for him.
Obviously it didn’t work and he was made to leave his home and live
with his uncle until he moved out to live with me.”

Tudor laid his hand on
his cheek, absorbing every word. “Places like that actually exist?”
I knew he was finding it difficult to wrap his head around. Most
people do.

“Unfortunately they
do. After that he practically grew up with me and my folks. We both
had a tough time at school and really only had each other for
friends. He has never even had a serious boyfriend, not once. I also
wonder if it is due to his parents’ continued rejection of him as
why he can’t commit to a lover for a long period of time, but I’m
no Psychologist so I let it go. We have been everything to each other
for so long that sometimes it becomes blurred to both of us just what
the boundaries are. If I’m hurt, he feels pain. If he’s upset, I
cry alongside him, and if someone he doesn’t know tries to take
over his caregiver role, he gets extremely defensive,”

I prodded Tudor’s
chest and grinned. He nodded in understanding.

“Quite honestly, I
wonder sometimes if we are too close. I admit now that I was not
fully invested in my previous relationship. I always put Tink first,
whether that was as simple as choosing a night out clubbing over a
romantic meal with Nathan, or as serious as taking his side in any
argument between the two, or even missing Nathan’s grandmother’s
funeral to comfort Tink over a horrendous argument with his parents.
Tink always won.

“I worry that we’ve
never had fully committed relationships because we don’t know how
to balance the love we have for our boyfriends with the fact that we
are soul mates. We’re a package deal – buy one get one free!
Whoever eventually takes us on will have to accept that or it’s a
no go.”

I didn’t wait for
Tudor’s reaction to my soul bearing, as I became distracted by my
favourite song coming on MTV.

“Aww, I love this
song.” I commented, starting to sway slightly in time with the
music.

Tudor turned his
attention to the TV. “What is it? Are they British?”

“Yeah, they are. It’s
‘Beneath Your Beautiful’ by Labrinth and Emeli Sande. Just
listen, it’s so perfect.”

We did, nearly the
whole song in silence.

“The words are
gorgeous aren’t they? Just imagine if someone felt that way about
you? To write something so incredible, and the muse was you. To love
someone that much and talk about them so passionately that it only
did them justice in song, to declare it for the world to hear.” I
sighed dreamily, “It would be everything to me, for someone to be
so proud to be with me that they want everyone and their mothers to
see.”

I blanched.
Why did
I just say that in front of him? I hope I can just pass it off as
being heavily medicated.

Tudor was silent, his
gaze flashed to the end of song playing on the screen, listening to
the words. When the song had reached its end and I subtly wiped away
a stray tear, he shifted his body my way and ran his fingers over my
head, lips pursed in concentration.

“W-What are you
doing?” I croaked.

Oh fuck,
is he,
is he going to
kis–
.

He reached for the bag of peas and
grinned. “Just removing the bag, Tash. It’s been twenty minutes,”
he said, pointing to rule number five on the laminated instructions
propped up against the bedside lamp:

5. ‘Do NOT leave peas on for longer than twenty minutes at a
time. You will freeze her freakin’ head off!’

“Oh yeah, thanks.”
I deflated like a balloon.

What the hell was
that all about, Tash? Do you want him to kiss you? I thought you
didn’t like him? Oh shut up, I don’t know, okay?!

We slouched down again,
lying to face each other as before. Tudor seemed content to just lie
in silence, looking at me.
Errrr
, fuck that. I certainly
wasn’t! To say he was intense was an understatement. He had asked a
lot of questions about me, he claimed he felt like he ‘knew me’,
and had turned me into a quivering wreck of a girl. But I didn’t
have the foggiest about him! How bloody rude.

“Can I ask questions
about you now?” I asked, nudging his arm tentatively and attempting
to use my big brown eyes to lure him in – hey, it worked for Puss
in Boots in
Shrek
!

He smiled and scooted
closer. Very close in fact – boundaries were blurring.

“You can ask, I’ll
choose to answer or not,” he responded gruffly and seriously as he
rested his left hand on my hip on top of the duvet. My heart
increased in speed while he looked as calm as the sea.

Go with it, Tash,
throw caution to the wind and enjoy the sexiest man on the planet
actually touching you in your bed! Way Aye!

“Okay. How did you
become an actor?” I started off easy.

His eyes creased in
amusement, he knew my plan.

“Ah, the
million-dollar question. Let’s see. I used to play ice hockey in
Vancouver. I was playing at a pretty good level, and after a match
where I was awarded MVP, I was approached by a casting agent who was
scouting out people for a movie about ice hockey–”

“
The Mighty Ducks
?
Did you do the 'Flying V'?” I asked, excitedly.

He regarded me blankly.
“No, not
The Mighty Ducks
!” He shook his head laughing,
and moved his hand to lie on top of mine. I didn’t even think he
had done it consciously, and our new-found intimacy didn’t seem to
faze him. I, on the other hand, was freaking out inside whilst trying
to maintain a calm demeanour on the outside.

“It was a
small–budget, indie Canadian film about how the game became
professional. I was only paid about five hundred bucks. It ended up
being awarded Best Film at the Toronto and Sundance Film Festivals.
Long story short, I was given a small part due to my size and
discovered I was pretty good at the whole acting thing. I was
approached by a talent agent from the city, and she hooked me up with
an acting coach and I began to audition. Up until that point, hockey
was my life, but I found something I was better at, with more
longevity, and I haven’t looked back since.”