Page 71 of The Mismatch

The phone was still in her hand as she heard him climb the stairs. His heavy footsteps brought her out of her reverie. She opened the door to him.

The light from the corridor was bright, a contrast to the darkness of the flat. Her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, but it surprised Magnus and he had to squint to see inside. He lingered by the door.

His face was so soft, his lips perfectly plump and pink. She’d forgotten how beautiful he was. How attuned she was to his emotions, how she could feel concern radiating from him. But despite all this, seeing him again in her flat, she felt viscerally that he did not belong here. With her, in her world. His life was open, uncomplicated. Hers was not.

‘What are you doing here?’ Soraya asked, not meeting his eyes and focusing her gaze on his shoulder. He wore a navy ski jacket with a fur-trimmed hood. The one they had picked out together on their shopping date.

‘Are you not going to let me in?’ His lips curled slightly, about to smile, but upon seeing Soraya’s stony expression he stopped himself. She noticed him breathe in deeply.

She moved out of the way and signalled with her hand for him to come in. As he stepped further into the flat, his scent invaded her senses. Musky and sweet, with a rush of the outside cold. She breathed it in at first then stopped herself. It would only make things harder.

He didn’t turn on the lights, and neither did she. Her focus was now on his beaten-up trainers.

From the corner of her eye, she saw his hands move and then they were cupping her face, tilting it up, forcing her to look him in the eyes. His hands were ice-cold.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked, barely above a whisper. His fingertips brushed the bruise around her right eye. She winced. He turned the light on then. ‘What happened to you?’ he asked, his voice tight.

Tears began to well up and Soraya dug her nails into the palm of her hand in an attempt to distract herself.

‘Please talk to me.’

‘I can’t,’ she said.

He bent forward and wrapped his arms around her. She let herself relax into him. One tear rolled down her cheek. She was thankful for his hood, which absorbed it before he could see.

‘Do you want to sleep?’ he asked. The question surprised her, but this was Magnus and somehow he always understood. She knew that, she just didn’t want to admit it sometimes.

She nodded.

They went into her bedroom and she nestled herself back into bed, under the cool duvet. He removed his coat, trainers, jeans and belt, so he was only wearing a T-shirt and boxers,and got into bed next to her. He spooned her, kissing her head gently. He put a protective arm around her waist.

She turned in his arms, so she was facing him, and raised herself higher so her lips could touch his. He kissed her back hesitantly, not deepening the kiss.

‘I want you,’ she whispered.

With those words he grew hard, but he continued with the chaste kisses.

She broke the kiss and felt bold enough to look him in his eyes. ‘Don’t you want me?’

He sighed deeply. ‘It’s not that, Soraya. I really want you. Just not like this, not when you’re upset.’ He stroked her cheek gently with his rough fingertips.

‘No, you don’t.’ She turned away from him, uncomfortably aware of what she was doing, but doing it anyway.

His hand was on her shoulder, turning her over so she faced him. ‘Soraya, you don’t know how much I want to …’ He trailed off, shook his head. ‘I need you to talk to me, tell me what’s going on. What happened to you?’

‘And I need you inside me.’

The words surprised even her. She wasn’t sure she meant them but in that moment she needed the distraction, needed something, anything.

He groaned ever so slightly. ‘I want that too.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But it wouldn’t be right. I want you to really want it. Do you understand?’

‘You’re always trying to have sex with me, why is now different?’

Magnus flinched at her words. ‘I’m not … do you think that’s what I’m doing?’

‘You always seem disappointed when we don’t end up having sex, and now I’m telling you I’m ready.’

He closed his eyes and held them shut for what felt like hours.