Love You Better (34 page)

She looked at him again as he squinted his eyes against the sun. Her salad had suddenly taken on the consistency of cardboard, and she struggled to swallow it. Her mum had told her about positive thinking, saying that the more she thought about
something
, the more likely it was to come true. She hadn’t bought into it, but what if her mum had been right? She’d wished for Oliver to leave her alone, and he had. Maybe if she’d wished
for Smit
h to make a move, instead of wondering about his motives, he would have.

‘So?’ he asked.

‘No idea,’ she replied with a shrug and put her salad box on the ground. Her appetite had disappeared.

‘Oh, come on. There must be
something
you’d want to do?’

‘I don’t know.’ She rubbed her hands and shrugged again. ‘The usual, I guess. Say my goodbyes and stuff. What about you?’

‘I’d like to think I’d do something profound, but let’s face
it –
that’s unlikely.’ He laughed. ‘I’d probably go up on a roof somewhere really high and play some good tunes. It’d be cool to see everything happen from a height.’

‘Rather you than me. I wouldn’t spend my last few minutes on earth scaling a tall building.’

‘You’re going to die anyway; you might as well do something you’ve been afraid of your whole life first.’

‘You get your kicks in some weird places, Smith.’ Effie laughed. ‘Wouldn’t you rather spend it with people you love?’

‘Of course, but it’s only forty-four minutes. It’s impossible to get everyone together that quickly, and transport would be all kinds of crazy.’

She shook her head, laughing. He’d clearly thought this through, right down to the last detail.

‘And you’d be there.’ He shrugged. ‘So it’d be all good.’

Her laughter stopped abruptly. Thank god, she was wearing glasses, or her eyes would have given her away. She was sure they were as wide as saucers.

‘I would?’

‘Well, yeah,’ he replied as if it was the only obvious answer, and he smiled.

It was so genuine that she couldn’t
not
believe that what Penny and Lou said was true. She fanned her face with her hand, grateful that the redness creeping up her neck could easily be put down to
the hea
t.

‘I dunno, though,’ he said, leaning in close so their shoulders touched.

He looked up at the sky and then turned his head to face her. He was about to kiss her – she was sure of it. Her heart raced in
her ches
t.

‘Don’t know about what?’

Why had she ordered salad with onions in it? And why was she wearing her sunglasses? Should she take them off? She wanted to see his eyes properly, to look at the grey irises, flecked with dots of blue.

‘Can’t see any asteroids. I think we’re safe.’ He smiled, and she swore it had more than a hint of regret to it. ‘Shame.’

34.

F
or the rest of the afternoon, Effie had been able to think of
nothing
else, so much so that she’d almost wished there
were
an
asteroid
hurtling towards the earth. She’d sat at her desk, looking at the digital clock in the bottom corner of her screen, counting down the minutes to the moment she’d be able to get on the back of Smith’s bike for him to take her home.

Could he tell that she’d been willing him to kiss her? He’d handed her the helmet with a knowing look, as if she’d left herself wide open, and she tried not to hold on to him too tightly for the drive back to Lou’s. She’d grown used to being on the bike and his way of riding, and the truth was, she could easily sit on it without having to hold on to him at all. Instead, she kept her hands loose around his waist, all too aware of how close she was to the one part of him she really wanted to touch. He kept up the habit of putting his hand on her thigh and turning to check on her when he stopped at a red light, and unless she was completely delusional, she was sure his grip was firmer and higher than it usually was.

By the time they got to Lou’s, her top was stuck to her back, and she didn’t know whether it was from the heat of the sun or her body going into overdrive over the tension she was sure she’d felt between them all day. He turned the key and killed the engine as he put his foot on the ground to stabilise the bike.

‘Wow, it’s hot,’ she said, passing the helmet to him. She was certain her hair was stuck to her head where it had been under the helmet, and with the curly ends being windswept, she must have looked a complete state.

He took the helmet from her and removed his. ‘It is.’

Effie bit down on her lip. God, this was going to sound so lame.

‘Do you want some water or something?’

‘Or something.’ She saw the hint of a smile on his lips. ‘So
unds goo
d.’

The blush almost burned her skin as he climbed off the bike. Why was she so nervous? This was Smith. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been in this place before. Why were her insides shaking as they walked up the stairs to Lou’s flat?

He followed her in and exhaled loudly. ‘Ah, this is nice. My place is like an oven, even with the windows open.’

He flopped on the sofa, his legs splayed wide, and Effie left him to go into the kitchen. She stood by the sink and gripped the edge of it, feeling the cool steel under her palms.
Or something.
That was pretty clear, wasn’t it? She never could tell with him. It was why it had taken them so long to get together in the first place. She could never work out whether he was simply flirting or stating his intent.

‘Lou not around?’ he asked.

Effie cleared her throat and opened the fridge to pull out a carton of juice. ‘No. She’s facilitating some kind of event up in
Newcastle
. She won’t be back till tomorrow.’

Would she have invited him up here if Lou had been around? The honest answer was probably not. Lou’s flat didn’t have much room for privacy. The last thing she needed was an audience to watch the ‘will they, won’t they?’ drama between them. She filled two glasses and walked the two paces from the kitchen to the liv
ing roo
m.

‘I hope it’s cold enough.’

He took the glass and drank a sip. ‘It’s perfect, thanks.’

She hovered next to the sofa for a second before sitting on the other end, and they drank in silence. Their swallowing seemed to echo its way all around the flat, and she felt every bit as awkward as she had when he’d dropped her off the day she’d got back from Ibiza.

‘So what are you up to this evening?’ Smith asked a little too loudly.

‘I don’t know. Flat hunting online, probably. I might Skype with Mum too.’

He put his glass on the table. ‘How is she?’

‘Good.’ Effie smiled. ‘Really good. She’s getting ready for her annual trip to India.’

‘Lucky her. I’ve always wanted to go there.’

She looked down into her empty glass before putting it next to his. ‘Do you want some music or something?’

Before he could reply, she dove into her handbag, looking for her phone, grateful to have something to do other than wonder about what was going on. She wasn’t imagining it – something had changed. She connected her phone to the Bluetooth speakers and looked back at Smith.

‘Okay.
I’ve
got a question for
you
.’

‘Shoot.’

She sat facing him with her back against the arm of the sofa and put her legs up in front of her. ‘If I were to put your music on shuffle, which three songs would you be most embarrassed about playing?’

‘That’s easy.’ He shrugged. ‘None.’

‘Bull. We all have guilty pleasures when it comes to music.’ She grinned, feeling much more at ease. As long as they kept talking, there wouldn’t be any awkward silences to be filled. ‘We could just put your music on now and find out?’

‘Oh, you’re good.’ He grinned back and crossed his arms,
fixing
his face with a look of concentration. ‘I’ve got some ABBA on there.’

Effie stifled a laugh.

‘Come on, it’s not fair if you’re going to laugh. Besides, ABBA was pretty cool. What else?’ He frowned and thought for a few
minutes
. ‘Destiny’s Child, Survivor. And . . . I dunno.
Cutting Crew
, probably.’

‘I don’t know them,’ she replied, putting her glass on the table.

‘Sure you do. “I just died in your arms tonight”? It’s an oldie.’

Effie burst out laughing as the bars of the song came into her head. ‘In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never had you pegged as a power-ballad type.’

‘What?’ he said, grabbing the small cushion and resting his hands on it as he pretended to sulk. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it now and again. It’s a guilty pleasure, like you said.’

She tried to catch her breath, but when she looked at him, she fell back into a fit of giggles. He always seemed to surprise her.

‘You’re so mean.’ He laughed and moved towards her on the sofa with the cushion in his hand, and for a split second, his beautiful face morphed until she saw Oliver in front of her, not Smith.

Effie instinctively turned, curling herself up into a little ball, just as she had that night in the hallway in her house, but instead of Oliver’s foot connecting with her stomach, the cushion Smith was holding whacked against her arm. The sound of her glass clunking against the carpet as the cushion knocked it off the coffee table rang in her ears, and a shot of cold fear ran down her back as
she froze
. She didn’t move when Smith stopped hitting her with the cushion.

‘Oh, come on,’ Smith said, but she stayed where she was, not daring to look up. ‘If anyone’s going to start sulking, it should
be me
.’

She flinched as his hand touched her back, but it was tender, not angry.

‘What’s wrong? You’re shaking like a leaf.’

The tender care in Smith’s voice made her slowly turn her head.

‘Effie?’

He was crouched on the floor, right by her side, and he kept his hand on her back as she slowly looked back at him. Tears were already streaking down her face. There was no way she could disguise them.

‘Jesus. Are you alright? Do you want some water or something?’

Her heart was thumping in her chest, and her body was trembling with misplaced fear, but she still caught the irony of him echoing the words she’d said earlier.

‘I’ll be right back. Don’t move.’

He crossed the living room in three strides, and Effie put her head in her hands. It wasn’t like she had anywhere to move to anyway. What the hell? Why had she freaked out like that? She hadn’t thought about Oliver for what felt like ages – why had that memory come at her like a sledgehammer? She heard the tap running in the kitchen, and what seemed like less than a second later, Smith was crouching in front of her again.

‘Here.’

Her hands trembled as she drank, and he held the bottom of the glass, just as he had after she’d fainted at work. God, she was ridiculous. How many times was he going to have to take care of her? His eyebrows were strung tightly together as he looked at her, his face full of concern. How could
he
have triggered a memory like that? She’d never once felt unsafe with Smith.

‘Fuck.’ He shook his head and looked at the cushion on the floor. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened, I—’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Effie replied, holding the glass in her hands. She didn’t want him to talk about it. She wanted to rewind and erase it from history.

‘What happened? Look at you, you’re shaking.’

‘Nothing. Honestly, I’m fine. I just freaked out.’

‘About what?’ He shook his head again and looked back at the cushion.

Don’t. Please don’t.

She could see his mind working. She could almost hear the cogs of his thoughts clicking into place, and when he looked back at her, she avoided his eyes.

‘You were scared.’ He kept his stare fixed on her. ‘Why?’

His eyes scorched her skin like laser beams. She couldn’t tell him the truth. It would go from being a manageable situation to a catastrophic one. Smith wasn’t the violent type, but she knew there was no way she could tell him the truth without things escalating.

‘Effie.’ His voice was firm, and he took her chin in his hand, turning her head to face him.

Don’t cry.

She had to hold the tears in. Her body shook with the sheer effort it took not to let it betray her need to keep quiet.

‘Did he . . . ?’ He looked down at the floor, and she saw the muscles in his jaw twitching. He looked back up at her and frowned. ‘Did Oliver . . . ?’

She shook her head and mentally clenched every muscle in her body to stop the shaking. There was too much at stake. If Smith got involved and things got messy, he’d end up in prison, or worse. There was no way he could go up against Oliver any more than
she c
ould.

‘No.’ The lie fell from her mouth, and she held her breath.

‘Tell me the truth, Effie.’ He sat next to her on the sofa and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Did he hurt you?’

His voice faltered under the weight of his question, and the fear that had shaken her quickly ebbed away as she looked at him. His hand was warm and soft on her shoulder, and she could feel the racing of his heart against her arm. It almost matched her own, and she knew then, as she felt the rapid pulsation of his heartbeat, that Penny and Lou had been right. His reaction said it all.

‘Do you love me?’ she asked.

He frowned and shook his head a little, blindsided by her question. ‘What? Effie, you just shrank into the sofa because I hit you with a cushion. This isn’t the time to—’

‘When we were in Ireland, you said you were glad I stopped you from kissing me.’

‘I was. Because I didn’t want you to do something you didn’t want to do.’

‘So you did want to then?’ She looked him in the eye as he
nodded
. ‘I need to know how you really feel. Do you love me?’

His heart raced even quicker. It wasn’t fair on him to switch the subject like that, but she needed to know. He looked back at her for a few seconds, seconds that felt like hours.

‘You know I do.’

His voice was low, quiet and unsure, and Effie’s heart swelled at the four words he’d just said. He loved her. Never in all their time together had he said it, or even anything close. She looked at his beautiful, confused face and took her index finger, tracing it along his eyebrow and cheekbone, down to his lips. Had he stopped breathing too? His pupils were fully dilated, and he was so utterly still. Her finger grazed against his lip, and the cotton of his T-shirt quivered as he sucked in a short breath. She leaned forward, and his eyes flicked down to her mouth.

Every cell in her body came alive as their lips connected. Her heart fluttered, her skin flushed with heat and desire coursed right down to the depths of her belly. What started as a tentative kiss intensified as he parted her lips with his tongue and put his hands either side of her head, cupping her face. She melted as he pulled her closer, kissing her with complete confidence in a way that had always made her knees weak. Memories raced through her head as he moved his hands to her hair, and her scalp tingled with pleasure as he grabbed a handful of it, holding it in his fist. It was the one thing he would do that was guaranteed to heat things up between them, any time, any place. She remembered the way he’d done it when they’d kissed for the first time at Notting Hill Carnival. He’d pinned her to the wall, her hands roaming across his back as crowds of revellers partied around them.

She slipped her hands under his T-shirt, eager to do more than just remember. His skin was hot as she ran her palms up the length of his back, feeling the curves of the muscles either side of his spine. Her hands found their way to his chest, rising and falling quicker with every breath he took as he kissed her even harder. He flinched as her fingers trailed down his chest and over his abs, finding the fly on his jeans. He was kissing her so hard, her lips burned, but she didn’t break away as she leaned back on the sofa, pulling him down on top of her by his jeans. She opened her eyes just as he did
the sam
e.

‘Effie,’ he mumbled between kisses, but her fervent kisses silenced him.

He was there, kissing her, with his hands scorching her skin as they trailed across her body. He’d said all he’d needed to say and all Effie had needed to hear.

She was done talking.