Seven Days: The Complete Story (14 page)

The sun has
gone down now and while Nicholas and Joel are lighting candles and
getting drinks, I make a quick call to Emily. I don’t want her to
worry or think I’ve deserted her. Not that she’d care much about
the latter. I think she’s pretty wrapped up in Alex.

“Don’t wait
up,” I tell her. “I might be staying here the night.”

“Where are
you?”

“At the
lighthouse. It’s been converted into a holiday house. I’m on the
top floor about to have dinner. The view’s awesome.”

“God, how
romantic. No wonder you don’t want to come home. But where’s Joel?
He’s not doing some creepy voyeur thing is he?”

“Um, he went
home. Two’s company and all that.”

“Sensible boy.
I still can’t believe he’s gay. He’s so freakin’ hot—”

Me
neither.

“—It’s such a
waste.”

Not for much
longer.

“I’m gonna go
now,” I say. “Have fun with Alex.”

Emily blows me
a kiss through the phone. “See you in the morning. We can debrief
over breakfast.”

“Cool.”

I stow my
phone back in my pocket and turn to the boys. They’ve seated
themselves on either side of the table, leaving a space for me
between them. There’s a bottle of champagne in the centre and three
glasses have been poured.

I sit.
“Bottoms up,” I say.

They pick up
their glasses, saying nothing. They don’t have to. I can read their
minds. I’m rather clever like that.

It’s five in
the morning. I’m lying in the massive king-sized bed; an Egyptian
cotton sheet draped strategically over my lower half. I’m watching
the sunrise and the way the gauzy curtains are billowing at the
window in the early morning breeze. I’m pondering whether I should
get up and go for a dip before a breakfast of juice and soft-boiled
eggs.

Okay, that’s a
lie. I have a huge hangover from over consumption of champagne. My
eyes feel like golf balls inside my skull and my brain has
shrivelled up. Then there’s my hair. Oh God. Let’s not even go
there. I have post-sex hair.

Up above my
face, I notice a fly darting back and forth. I want to reach up and
swat it away but I’m afraid of the consequences. The room is
spinning and my stomach is mimicking the motion. Things could be
disastrous if I move. Geez, my head’s pounding. It’s pounding so
hard I think I may be about to burst a blood vessel. I shift my
head a millimetre on the pillow, gazing at the face of the man to
the left of me. Nicholas’ eyes are closed in sleep. I frown as
memories of last night flood through my brain.

Last
night.

What the hell
was I thinking? I should never have gone back for more. It knew it
was wrong and now I feel more conflicted than I did before.

I stare into
the dazzlingly beautiful face of Nicholas, fighting an urge to lean
across and kiss the tip of his nose. Our agreement was for fun, no
strings attached sex. Sure, I was up for that. I was coming from a
place of ‘what the hell’ ‘let’s live it up’ and ‘you don’t know if
you don’t try’ and I enjoyed it the first time. And the second and
third.

Slutty as that
sounds.

I shuffle
slightly in bed so as not to wake him. I have to get out of here, I
can’t think straight while he’s lying next to me looking all
godlike and such. But how? There’s no way I can clamber over the
top without disturbing him. Maybe I can shimmy under the covers to
the foot of the bed? I could get away before he wakes. Avoid the
embarrassment I feel building in my body.

I ponder the
idea for a minute more while staring at Nicholas’ face and I
realise I don’t really want to leave. I like him. I want there to
be more. But I can’t do it without commitment. It’s just not me.
Then I hear a groan. I know it’s not coming from Nicholas and I
certainly don’t groan like that. It’s coming from behind me. I roll
to my other side.

Shit, shit and
double shit.

Joel.

He’s
naked.

And awake.

His dark brown
eyes are blinking slowly at me and he has a smirk like he wants to
do what we did last night all over again.

How the hell
did I block him from my memory?

The act began
with Nicholas taking my hand and leading me to the big white bed
where I’m now lying. I remember him giving me the blindfold, I
remember Joel blowing out the candles and the moonlight streaming
through the window before my sense of sight was taken away from me.
I remember two identical male scents, two men inside me, loving me,
their hardness filling me to the brim. I remember two tongues
licking me forward and behind. They’re smarter than me, my boys.
They’ve done everything they can to avoid discovery. I have no idea
who is who. They know exactly how to drive me wild.

And they are
my boys now. We are in this together. For the long haul. For better
or worse.

I remember the
first orgasm. My legs were wrapped around his body, clinging to him
as he thrust into me harder and faster. His voice was in my ear,
telling me he’d never been with anyone like me, how he wanted to
hold me and love me. My hands itched to squeeze whoever it was that
was saying these things. They wanted to move from their place on
his shoulders and feel the clenching of his muscles as he took me
but I’d agreed to keep my hands where they were, to encouraging the
anonymity between the boys and me for the sake of sexual
pleasure.

But this isn’t
just sex anymore. It can never be just sex, not when someone is
whispering in my ear, telling me how beautiful I am, how much he
wants me, while another has this tongue between my legs.

During the
second orgasm, brought on as one licked me and the other fucked me,
spooning, I begged them to let me touch their faces or run my
fingers through their hair. All I wanted was to hold them. One of
them groaned, “Oh God, Sadie,” as he came and I wanted to see the
emotion I knew was there. I wanted to feel it beneath my fingers
and see the satisfaction on his face as I sucked him dry. I could
sense it meant more than they’d ever tell. I’m not just a fuck. I
mean more than that.

They mean more
than that to me. Somehow, in the space of a few days, I’ve managed
to fall for them both hard. It should be impossible but it seems to
have happened anyway.

Now, as I lay
here looking at Joel, I wish I knew which one of them it was. Who
cried out at the moment of release? Which one of them twisted my
hair in his hands as he thrust into me from behind and called my
name as he came? That body was filled with more emotion than I’ve
ever known in a man and I want to know who it was.

I want them
both. But not like this. There are too many emotions involved. It’s
too hard. I can’t be a plaything. I can’t play the game of
pretending. I crave their love.

I sit up in
bed and look sadly at the two men. Nicholas is still asleep. Joel
is regarding me questioningly. “Where are you going, love?”

“I’m
leaving.”

“Fuck and run,
eh? I never took you for that kind of girl.”

I wish he
wouldn’t make light of me. I’m not in the mood. “I’m not.”

“Then don’t
go.” He reaches for me but I shrug him off.

“I have to. I
can’t do this. It’s too hard.”

“I can show
you hard, if that’s what you want,” he chuckles.

“Can you stop
joking, please? I’m being serious here.”

I think he
gets the idea that I
am
serious because he frowns and his
face comes over all solemn like. “I thought you were having fun.
You seemed to be getting off on it last night.”

Geez, how do I
explain? It’s gone way beyond fucking and having a good time. The
sex was awesome, mind blowing. This is definitely not about
anyone’s prowess in the bedroom. It’s about feelings.

“I was. I did.
But I can’t do it. I need more. I need to feel you, to know you. I
need the intimacy of seeing your face when you’re inside me, of
knowing who’s doing what. It won’t work Joel, it just won’t.”

I scramble
from the bed, and find my clothes on the floor. I slip into my
knickers and shorts. I shove my bra in my pocket and put on my
shirt. As I pull my hair back into a ponytail, I see Nicholas has
woken. He’s sitting up in bed, his arms slung around his knees like
on the day we met. He knows something’s up and his eyes are begging
me to share whatever it is.

“Don’t go,
Sadie. Stay. I want you to stay. I need you to stay.”

“I can’t
Nicholas.”

“Why?”

“Because if I
stay, we’re going to get hurt. All of us.” And I turn and walk out
the door.

(Seven Days Part 2)

“You must be
stoked—”

Emily and I
are sitting at the dining table in our flat. There’s tequila and
lemonade in front of us plus a massive bag of Freddo frogs that
Emily’s brought home from her new job at the supermarket. We’ve
eaten half of them already and Emily’s twisted the wrappers and
placed them around the bottle to make the shape of a love heart.
Boy, has she got it bad.

“—I mean,” she
continues, “getting a placement at Hardwick & Lawson is like
winning frickin’ lotto. If they like you, they might offer you a
job when you graduate. How much coolness would that be?”

A job offer
from Hardwick & Lawson
would
be the icing on the cake
after the hard work I’ve done. They’re the biggest and most
prestigious building firm in the city and to work in their
landscaping department would be a coup. I wouldn’t care if I were
shovelling poo for a year if I got a job there.

“I’m amped.” I
can feel my face breaking into that huge grin that’s been there off
and on since I got the news. I take a glug of tequila and fill up
our glasses.

I found out my
original placement had pulled the pin early this morning. I was so
devastated — suicidal actually — that I began to hyperventilate
when I imagined the ramifications of having nowhere to go for my
prac. I mean, the unit is my last before I graduate. I need it to
complete my degree. I need referrals I can use at job interviews.
And I can’t be a failure. I can’t. So you can understand why I was
feeling like someone had chopped off my head and forgotten to tell
me. Luckily for me though, it only took a couple of hours for the
placement officer to find me another spot. I wasn’t hopeful it
would be as good with it meant to start Monday and everything, I
was simply grateful to have anywhere to go at all. Which is why,
when she informed me the spot was at Hardwick & Lawson, I burst
into hysterical happy tears. Hell, I’ve just stopped crying. It’s
been an emotional rollercoaster of a day. Literally.

I pick up my
drink and open another celebratory Freddo Frog, clinking it with
Emily before biting a corner off its head. It's as I'm nibbling
that it dawns on me. My wardrobe is not equipped for a firm like
Hardwick & Lawson. Most of the time I don’t think I’m equipped
to step outside the front door. I bite my lip. I feel the panic
begin to overwhelm me and the nerves kick in. I’ve been so good at
trying new things in the last six months. Why are the doubts
flooding through me now? And over an outfit choice?

“What am I
going to wear? A pair of overalls and a t-shirt would have been
fine for digging about in the dirt but Hardwick & Lawson is
uber glam. I don’t own anything remotely in that league. I'm going
to look like a complete dick if I go prancing along the halls in a
pair of King Gee work pants.”

“Why don’t you
raid my wardrobe?” Emily suggests. “You can suss out the dress code
when you get there and hit the shops after work if you need to. I’m
sure it won't be that dressy. They're builders. They won’t be
knocking about in Armani.”

“But what if
I'm
too
dressy?” Emily’s sophisticated black look is way
more formal than the ‘vintage chic’ I like to call my pre-loved
op-shop wardrobe. And I’m not so sure auburn hair goes with black.
Won’t I look even more like a carrot top? I want to fit in. The
relief of walking in the door and knowing I look like everyone else
will ease the first day nerves.

“You won’t
be,” Emily answers. “I’ve seen the women who come out of that
building at lunchtime. They look more like an ad for
Vogue
than a bunch of secretaries—”

Which is even
worse. There’s no way I can look like something out of
Vogue
. Ever. I’m going to be sick. I am. I take another gulp
of my vodka and push the glass away. At this rate I won’t even get
to Hardwick & Lawson. I’ll be too hung over.

“A simple
skirt and shirt and you'll blend right in,” Emily continues. She
gets up and goes into her room, returning with a few office type
outfits. I hold a couple up against me; unsure I can pull off her
look. It’s so grown up.

“Go try them
on,” she says. “That black skirt, your white shirt and a bit of
eyeliner and that Lawson guy will take one look and fall head over
heels in love. He won’t be able to stop himself.”

I give her a
look. “Uh, I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“How could I
forget him? He’s here so often; I confused him with the coffee
table and tried to put my tea on him last night. Hashtag
awkward.”

“Don’t be
mean. Mason’s sweet when you get to know him.”

“So is a cup
of tea but I don’t want to have sex with it. Honestly, Sadie. I
thought after you hooked up with that Nicholas on holiday you’d
turned over a new leaf in the man department but you’ve gone
straight back to your old ways. Mason hangs around here like a bad
smell. He’s like a puppy the way he follows you around.”

I roll my
eyes. I know Emily has no time for Mason. She thinks he’s bland and
boring even though I’ve told her a hundred times he’s shy. I ignore
her and concentrate on the outfits. I’m not having another
discussion about Mason. I like him and that’s what counts. It’s not
like she has to sleep with him. “I’m going to Hardwick & Lawson
to get experience, in case you’d forgotten, not find a husband.
Anyway, I’ll be lucky if I even see them. It’s a big firm.”