Page 61 of Tears of Glass
“You don’t have issues with nakedness, do you?” He turns and raises an eyebrow as he looks at me.
“Well, no. But it’s weird. You aren’t some secretive naturist, are you? That could change things.”
He drops my hand and sighs. “Okay, stay here.”
He dashes back into the bedroom and I stand in the hallway of his house waiting for his return. When he does, he’s wearing low slung football shorts. I’m only partially disappointed—like he’s still totally hot. He thrusts a pair of cotton boxers and a T-shirt at me. “For your modesty, Madame.”
I giggle as I slide his clothes over my skin. They smell of him, and I give a little shiver as they slip over my body. “I thought you liked being naked?”
He catches my hand and pulls me towards him, his bare chest brushing against my T-shirt covered breasts. They stand to attention at the lightest touch. His lips cover mine and he kisses me for one long breathless moment until my head spins and my body rushes with heat. “I want you to pay attention to what comes next.” With that he turns us for the patio doors through the end of the spacious open plan living room. This house is gorgeous. Where my own apartment is small and compact, hinting at a splendour from a previous age with its high ceilings, his mews house is quaint and sweet on the outside, but inside is sleek, comfortable and luxurious. The whole of the downstairs is open plan, the kitchen giving way to the sofa I so desperately had him on earlier. Along the back wall are bifold windows I haven’t ventured through. He grabs a remote and presses a button and the doors silently fold inwards. A rush of cool early morning air floods over us. I haven’t checked the time, but as I stare at the sky behind the glass, I can spot a slight lightening to the dark. “Where are we going?” I ask. “And thank God we aren’t naked.”
He smiles, his eyes dancing. “We need to talk about your issues with nakedness.” I shiver as his gaze runs over the shape of me under his loose-fitting clothes. “Come see.”
He beckons me forward and tangles my fingers with his as he leads us down an immaculate pathway. The garden is small and set to lawn, but under the brightening sky I can see carefully laid and immaculately neat plant beds. “This is beautiful.”
“Come on.” He leads me on, not letting me explore the trickle of water that’s filling the quiet space.
“What’s this?” We stop outside a wooden structure. It’s got that new wood smell, pine and varnish. He pushes in the door and steps inside, flicking on some lights with a switch on the wall.
“This is for you.”
I can’t speak. I stop and stare at the space in front of me. It’s a studio, fully kitted out. Some of my pieces from Bowsley that didn’t make it to Whitlocks last night are there, set on shelves. “Why did you do this when I ran away?” My chest is tight, the words hurt as I try to speak around the tension cinching my throat.
“Because I was always going to run after you.”
“Shit.” A heaving tide of tears threatens to sweep me away. I need to stop fucking crying, it’s getting pathetic.
He steps up to a drawing table, tilted and ready for me to sit at. “This is also yours.” He hands me a plain white envelope which I take with shaking fingers. “Faith.” He tilts my chin. “Why are you shaking?”
“It’s all too much. I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”
He shrugs, it’s disarming and cute. “Me neither, but we’re going to work it out. Okay?” His eyes bore into mine, intense and searching.
“Okay.”
“Now open the envelope.” He steps back a little, but I wish he wouldn’t.
I tear it open and peek inside. “What the fuck?” I tug at the slip of paper inside and pull out a cheque for twenty-five thousand pounds.
His eyes are firmly on my face. His fingers squeeze mine; maybe he’s trying to stop them shaking. “This is why I stood on that stage and lied. This was yours and I wanted you to have it.”
“What is it?”
His smile is slow, and it makes my stomach tie into knots. “Remember the announcement my mother made? The Fairclough Trust for Art and Design. She announced you were the first recipient. This is yours. There was no way I was giving her any reason not to give it to you.”
His words make the very fabric of the universe dissolve beneath my feet. “You did that for me?”
His face is serious, worried. “I would never let her cheat you, so I played it out and then I did what I wanted all along.”
“Which was what?” It’s nothing more than a whisper.
“I came to find you.”
I shake my head. “You know you can’t go around trying to fix things for me all the time?” I watch him carefully, my fingers grasping the envelope and cheque. “Did you sleep with Sienna?” The questions blasts out of nowhere.
His face drops, confusion flashing across his features. “No, why would you even ask that?” A flash of anger flickers across his face and I step back. I’ve never seen him even close to cross before. But I want to know.
“So you didn’t?” What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I ruining this?
