Three Words: A Novella Collection (32 page)

It was like
the world faded away in that moment. Every stupid thing Johnny had
ever said, every ridiculous thing he’d done didn’t matter. His
sincerity was overwhelming. He really did care for me. All that
mattered was us.

“
Yes.”

Johnny’s lips
were close to mine. “You mean it?”

“
Yes.”

He put his
mouth to my mouth, grazing it softly. Beneath the table, his
fingers played in the palm of my hand.

It was so
romantic.

Then he jumped
to his feet. “Right you bastards. Party’s over. Get out.”

Kirby looked
across the table at him. “But we haven’t had pudding yet. I’ve been
totally starving myself all day for Millie’s pudding.”

“
Take a traveller.” He began to clear the plates and take
glasses from people’s hands in case they thought this was another
of his jokes.

“
What’s up?” Sam asked, draining the last of his red wine.
“The night’s but young.”

The grin on
Johnny’s face was bigger than the one Heath Ledger had when he
played The Joker in the Batman movie. “Exactly. And Mel and I want
to spend the rest of it shagging each other’s brains out. So nick
off home, the lot of you.”

Okay. Maybe
not so romantic.

But worth it
to see the looks on everyone else’s faces as they were bustled out
the door.

Chapter 7

Johnny and I
were lying in my bed. His arm was slung around my shoulder keeping
me near as he could and my cheek was against his naked chest,
listening to the rhythmic thud, thud of his heart.

“
So, it’s Christmas on Saturday,” he said.

“
Like I wasn’t aware of that.” Through the open door, I could
see the remnants of the party littering my living room. Even after
the cleaners did their magic, it was going to take hours to pack it
away. I slid my hand under the covers and down to his
groin.

“
What are you doing?” he asked.

“
What? Now? I was thinking about going down on you again but
if you have a better idea…”

Johnny pulled
me closer. His eyes twinkled as he rolled me over so I was lying
along the length of his body. “I’d like nothing more, but I was
actually referring to Christmas Day. What are you doing on
Christmas Day?”

It wasn’t a
difficult answer. Most Christmases for me consisted of a dinner
eaten alone at an expensive restaurant, followed by the consumption
of copious bottles of red wine in the privacy of my own home.
Sometimes I bought myself a present and opened it on Christmas
morning, pretending I didn’t know what was inside. If I was lucky
my mother would deem to call me on the day but, mostly, I was
ignored. It had been that way since the day my father had left us.
My mother had descended into some sort of bubble where she blamed
me for his leaving and, so, for the past two decades she’d been
behaving as such. It didn’t matter that I’d been a kid, that I’d
done nothing. I’d effectively lost both my parents that day. I’d
been alone my entire life since then. And my heart had turned to
stone because of it. But that seemed to be changing. I circled my
finger around Johnny’s nipple and bent my lips to kiss the spot.
“Nothing, most likely. Christmas is a non-event to me.”

“
Why not come to my place? You can meet the family. I warn you
though; Christmas lunch is always pretty big. Mum will try to
overfeed you and old Uncle Arnie invariably drinks a shitload too
much wine and tries to feel up the younger cousins.”

“
Ahh
, a genetic trait. At least your family will have
someone to carry on the tradition when Arnie drops off the
perch.”

Johnny pinched
my bum. “Funny. I’m a reformed man. No more groping for me.”

“
Why?” I wriggled against him.

“
I don’t feel the need to grope… not unless it’s you I’m
groping.”

Aww
.
That was sweet. Luckily I wasn’t the blushing type.

“
Don’t go getting mushy on me, Johnny. You know I’ll run for
the hills.”

“
You won’t. You’ll stick around and get used to me. You’ll
come to love me for the handsome, irresistible larrikin I
am.”

“
And you know this how? You seem pretty sure of
yourself.”

“
I am. I’m the only bloke on Earth who can put up with your
incessant screeching during the rugby.”

“
That’s because you wear Sports Ears and can’t hear
me.”

“
And I like that you think the book is always better than the
movie because I do, too.”

“
It’s amazing how much we have in common,” I joked.

“
Plus, I’m the best damn shag you’ve ever had. How can you
knock me back?”

To prove it he
began to do that certain thing he knew I loved. I felt myself
beginning to give in to him, to surrender parts of me I’d never let
see daylight. It frightened me. This wasn’t one-night-stand sex or
friends with benefits. This was moving to a level that shook me to
the core.

“
Stop, Johnny, stop.”

His hands
cupped my face. He looked so earnest and so very endearing. “What’s
wrong?”

“
I just—”

“—
You think I’m only after one thing. You don’t believe me when
I say I’d give up the wild life for you?”

“
Can you blame me? You do have something of a
reputation.”

“
You have to trust me, Mel. My playboy days are over. I won’t
let you down. I promise. I—”

My hand
clapped over his mouth. “
Shhh
.”

He looked into
my eyes and said the words without uttering a single one.

No. No. No. He
couldn’t, could he? It was too soon. I might have been warming to
the idea of a relationship but I certainly wasn’t ready for any
type of statement involving the L word. I didn’t even know if that
was in my vocabulary. I had to stop this ridiculousness before it
went any further.

“
I’m going for a shower. The cleaners will be here any minute
to rectify that shithole in the lounge.” Faster than if Johnny
announced he had some hideous transmittable disease, I leapt from
the bed and ran for the safety of the bathroom. I contemplated the
lock on the door but realised that was probably taking it one step
too far. I mean, he was Johnny, not some degenerate axe
murderer.

“
Did I say something wrong?” he called after me.

I turned back.
“No, no. Just get up. Get dressed.”

“
Am I allowed to take a shower?”

“
Not with me.”

“
What about solo? I reek of sex. Not that that’s a bad
thing.”

“
Yes. Solo. By yourself. There’s a spare toothbrush in the
cabinet.” And I slammed the door.

As I stood
under the shower, my breathing began to return to normal. What
wrong with me? Why did I keep pushing Johnny away? Of course, I
didn’t have to thing for long. I knew I had issues with trust. The
action wasn’t exclusive to Johnny; it was all men. As soon as I got
to a point where it looked like something serious might be
happening, I bailed. The insecurity was crippling me and I knew I
had to move past it or I’d never be able to have a sensible
relationship. And I couldn’t keep using my career as an excuse. And
I certainly wasn’t going to start seeing a therapist for the
problem. I wanted to be with Johnny. All I had to do was suck up my
feelings and take it slowly. I could do it. Hell, if I could go
skydiving for a dare, I could bloody well keep a boyfriend.

I hoped.

I rinsed my
body and turned off the taps, standing for a second and watching
the last drips of water run into the plughole. All I had to do was
let down my guard. Try to see the positive rather than be eternally
cynical. And what better person to do it with than Johnny? He was
my best friend aside from Millie. He knew every little detail about
me, things that I never shared with anyone. He was hot and
intelligent and he looked great in a pair of rugby shorts. If I let
myself admit it, he really did turn me on. Plus, he seemed to like
me in a non-platonic way — a crucial factor if we were going to
move beyond friends.

I slipped into
my underwear and went back to the bedroom where the man in question
was sprawled on the bed wearing only his boxers. Now that I’d
decided to give it a go, the sight of his big hard body was enough
to make me want to jump him, but I didn’t.

“
What are you reading?” My eyes registered the book he had in
his hand.

“
Jane Eyre
. I found it in your bookshelf. I hope you
don’t mind.”

Mind? I was
astounded that of all the things on my bookshelf that was the book
he’d chosen.

“
Not at all.”

Johnny flipped
through the pages. “I haven’t read this book for years.”

“
You’ve read
Jane Eyre
?”

Okay, clearly
there was more to Johnny than even I knew.

“
A few times. I’m not nearly as moronic as you seem to
believe. I’ve read some Jane Austen too and Oscar
Wilde.”

“
Quite the Rhodes Scholar.”

“
Come here.” Johnny put the book down and beckoned me to him.
I lay down beside him and he wrapped his arm round my waist, his
hand coming to rest on my bum. “You feel nice,” he
whispered.

“
Thank you.”

He rolled to
his back and picked the book up, thumbing through the pages. “You
know this part where Rochester tells Jane he feels like he has a
string connecting his heart to hers?”

“
Mmm
.” I loved that scene. But then, being alone for
most of my life, I connected with the story on a number of
levels.

“
Well, that’s sort of how I feel about you.”

Oh God. Not
again.

“
I think we’re sort of the same,” Johnny continued. “We
pretend we’re tough and we don’t need anyone but we’re not like
that at all.”

That was
true.

“
Johnny?”

“
Yes?”

“
Can you stop being so nice to me? The whole idea of a
relationship is freaking me out. You know I don’t go for all that
soppy stuff and if you keep quoting the classics I’m going to start
laughing.”

“
Relationship?” He feigned horror. “I was only thinking I
might get into your pants on a more regular basis if I showed you
my tender side. I wasn’t going to propose.”

“
Such a charmer.”

“
You don’t want to be wooed, then?”

Oh
puh-lease
.

“
It depends on how you intend on wooing me. If there’s going
to be flowers and going down on one knee, you have to know I’ll
most likely clock you with them.”

Johnny
chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare. How about we start with Christmas? You
never gave me an answer.”

I bit my lip.
“I don’t know if I can do a big family Christmas. I’m not
ready.”

“
If you can handle a night at the club, I’m pretty sure you
can give my family a run for their money. They’re
pussies.”

“
But I’m not used to crowds. I spend my holidays alone. I like
being alone. I think we need to get to know each other a little
more before I go foisting myself on your olds.”

Johnny sat up
on the bed. “Sure. Okay. Well, if the actual day is a step too far,
how about we meet for dinner tomorrow night? Let’s do a bit of a
romantic first date thing where you frock up, we drink a shed load
of expensive champers and then have rowdy Christmas sex.”

I couldn’t
believe I actually agreed to the idea. But that was Johnny. He
could charm the wool off a sheep’s back.

Chapter 8

Christmas
Eve.

I hadn’t seen
Johnny for a whole day. Crazy really, that I’d been counting the
hours but at odd periods during the day that’s exactly what I’d
found myself doing. As I’d stood in the kitchen, gazing out over
the rooftops while I drank my morning coffee, a vision of him in
his boxer shorts and apron had crept into my head and forced my
lips to curve against my coffee mug. He’d looked so cute — not that
I’d ever tell him that. Johnny already thought he was God’s gift.
He didn’t need an excuse to make his head swell any further. After
that, I’d found myself thinking about him intermittently during the
day. As I’d been out jogging, I’d imagined him running beside me.
As I stood in the line at the checkout getting rammed by some old
dear and her trolley, I thought of him putting his body between her
and me, being protective the way that Sam was with Millie. Johnny
would be good at protective. He had that look about him. When Kirby
had rung to ask if I wanted to have Christmas dinner with her and
her family, I’d declined but my mind had instantly gone to Johnny.
If I was going to do Christmas he was the only one I wanted to do
it with.

Now, here I
was, dressed in my best and, despite the fact I’d told myself I was
not putting effort into this ‘date’ because if I had no
expectations they couldn’t be crushed, I was super excited. Every
nerve in my body was on alert; I’d never felt excitement like this.
Ever. I was all fizzy inside, like a big glass of champers, like
Kirby said she felt when she got her hands on the newest shade of
Mac lipstick.

I liked
Johnny. A lot.

And I really
wanted this to work.

I pulled open
the door of the bar where we were to meet beforehand and stepped
inside, looking around for my date. Even though I was a few minutes
early, I knew Johnny would be there; he was never late. Like me, he
abhorred tardiness of any sort, which could prove difficult if we
ever had children — for the children, I mean.