Chapter Fourty-two

I felt a little more relaxed for my bar shift on Saturday night. Tom did me a favor and gave me space—he, Emelie, Jenny, Ed, Sammie and a couple more of their friends I didn’t know so well, headed out for dinner and drinks. I was invited to the dinner part of the evening, but I didn’t feel ready to be in a social situation just yet with Tom, and like I said, I wanted some space.

When I got home from work he wasn’t there, and when I woke up, I was alone.

Even Emelie gave me space.

That meant I actually did some writing. In fact, I wrote a whole chapter of my contemporary novel, and I only took one panic attack. But it was so short it barely counted, and once I got past the initial panic, I was able to deal with the memory of my mother telling me how scary it had been to come to the States alone, but how liberating it had felt to do it. Best of it all, I knew that feeling. I could write that feeling well. And I did.

“You know you should have a typewriter.”

I spun around in my computer chair at the familiar voice, gazing up at Tom lounging in my doorway in his jeans and t-shirt. It was raining outside. He should really have a sweater on. Or jumper. Another weird word we’d discussed when he was dressing to leave me yesterday. What the hell was a jumper anyway? My mom had never been able to give me an answer that made sense, and Tom had just smiled at me like he thought I was cute. I was never cute. “A typewriter?”

He nodded, eyeing my laptop. “Just seems more authentic, no?”

“Well, my mom promised to buy me one for Christmas, but she died before she could.”

I froze.

My heart sped up as my words echoed back at me. Why did I tell him that?

Tom’s gaze sharpened at my reaction and then he shrugged. “You’d only end up with a bunch of wasted paper if you had a typewriter.”

He was giving me an out. My smile was a little weak as I replied, “Hey, I have good typing skills.”

“It’s not the only thing you’re good at.” He grinned lasciviously as he wandered into the room.

“Oh you have no idea.”

He chuckled and I thought he was coming over to kiss me. To my surprise he walked around the bed to my bedside table and he picked up the photograph of my parents. “This your mum?”

I looked away, my shoulders tensing up. “Yeah.”

“You look like her, but you’ve got your dad’s coloring. She was beautiful, Whatson.”

Pain dug its claws into my chest. “Thanks,” I mumbled getting up, my back to him as I headed towards the door. “So what are you doing here?”

I heard his footsteps quicken behind me and felt his arm come around me, his palm flat to my stomach as he pulled me back against him, my head resting on his chest. I was quickly getting used to Tom’s tactility. The man liked to touch me. All the time. I’d thought it would be harder to get accustomed to since I wasn’t really an overly affectionate person myself, but Tom didn’t really ask me whether I wanted to be hauled into his arms every five seconds.

And the truth was, I didn’t really mind it. Another surprise.

His breath whispered across my ear as he bent his head to murmur in it, “I thought I’d come by and pick you and Emelie up for family dinner. Make sure you turned up. Wouldn’t want you to miss the after dinner dessert at my place later.”

I relaxed as we returned to familiar ground, turning my cheek to catch his lips with mine. “Wouldn’t want that either.”

“Okay, gross,” Emelie’s voice broke us apart. She stood before us in the hallway. “Could you close the door when your friends with benefiting each other?”

I pulled out of Tom’s arms. “What are you, twelve?”

She stuck her tongue out at me and I laughed, swatting her playfully on the ass as I passed her to get my shoes. I was just shoving my feet into my favorite boots when someone’s cell rang.

“Hullo,” I heard Tom answer and turned around to watch him walk into the hall past Emelie. He had his serious face on. “What? Now?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he shot me ‘a look’. “No. It’s fine. I’ll be there soon.” He slipped his phone back into his back pocket with a frustrated groan. “That was Darren. Family problems. He can’t do his shift today at Fire and I’ve got a Sunday delivery coming in, as well as a guest DJ tonight, and he can’t get anyone who knows what they’re doing to cover for him. I have to take care of it.” His eyes held mine for a moment and I saw the frustration deepen.

“You’re missing another family dinner?” Emelie grumbled. “Mum’s going to love that.”

“Tell her I’m sorry.” Tom shrugged regretfully, eyes still on me. “Looks like tonight is out.”

Oh yes. His plans for me at his apartment. I felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment as I grinned at him. “Oh well.”

“Don’t look too disappointed.” He threw me a sardonic smile. “We’ll just have to arrange some time this week.”

“Um,” Emelie stepped between us, “Can you not schedule whatever this is that’s going on between you in front of me, please?”

Smirking, Tom leaned down and gave Emelie a quick peck on the cheek. “Els.” And then he walked past me. “Whatson.” He gave my hand a squeeze, his thumb trailing softly along the back of my hand before he let go and kept walking right on out the front door.

I stared after him, even once he was gone. What had that been? The hand thing? I looked down at my hand, the skin still tingling from where he’d caressed it. That hadn’t felt very friends with benefitty.

“Just sex.”

“What?” I looked up at Emelie who was staring at me incredulously. “What?” I repeated.

“Just sex.” She shook her head and grabbed her jacket. “If you two want to believe that, then it’s none of my business.”

Ignoring her and the ominous churning in my gut, I shrugged into my own jacket and followed her out the door.