Two Years Later

I lean on the balcony enjoying the feeling of the late afternoon sunshine on my face and body. I’m naked but luckily the balcony prevents anyone viewing my bits. I stretch luxuriously feeling the ache in my arse and the soreness of my lips.

All I can see from my perch is a stretch of ocean that’s bluer than a forget me not and the sun bouncing off the white streets of Santorini. It’s a beautiful village that stretches next to the sea, a maze of winding cobbled streets and sun baked brick. Bright flowers are everywhere, and the scents of verbena and herbs linger in the air. Wherever I look I see the colours blue and white.

This is the latest stop on a holiday that seems to be lasting longer than a season of The Real Housewives of Orange County. Everyone warned us that travelling together was the quickest way to end a relationship, but in truth it’s brought us even closer together if that is possible.

Last year we backpacked around Thailand and Vietnam and this time we’re island hopping in Greece. Sage is my perfect companion. Warm and sociable he makes every day a different experience. He talks to everyone and draws me along helplessly in his charming orbit. Through him we’ve made many friends and had so many life experiences.

He’s easygoing and endlessly interested in everything. He’ll tramp along beside me wherever we decide to go, happy to talk and yet equally content to fall silent when I’m wrapped in a view or a feeling that I know will enter my book.

My laptop has accompanied us, and he’s taken to calling it Trudy and referring to it as my wife. However, despite the jokes he’s remarkably restful, being content to snooze in the sun like a cat, or lie reading, or drawing in his sketchbook while I tap away on my keyboard. I feel he’s infused my writing with the same warmth that he does my life, and my editor had remarked the other day how real and present my characters now seem.

Footsteps sound behind me and I turn to see him padding towards me. His wavy hair is longer than it’s been in years and he’s tanned and content looking with a sleepy grin. I watch as he wraps a sky-blue sarong around his narrow hips and then smile and sigh happily as his strong arms wrap around my waist. I nestle back against the sleep warmed skin of his body and smile down at his patterned fingers, I lean back to grab a kiss. “You slept for ages.”

Sage sighs happily. “Sightseeing and sex. It takes it out of a person, you know.”

I snort. “Only if he’s a pensioner.” I laugh and try to wriggle around as he grabs me and digs his fingers into the sensitive skin above my hipbones. “Fuck off!” I shout.

“Not until you say sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” I gasp. “Shit, Sage, I said it. Stop tickling me.”

He manhandles me to the floor and sits on me. I laugh and he mock glowers at me. “Not so fast,” he says in a low voice. “There’s more you need to say.”

I wriggle loving the way that the sarong has parted and is gifting me with a lovely view of his cock and balls. “Is it that you’re a total dickhead?”

He laughs and the deep chuckle hits me in my chest the way it always has. “No. You must say, ‘Sage, you are the best boyfriend ever’.”

I buck and then give in. “Sage, you are the best boyfriend ever.” I pause. “Not counting Mr Saunders in the flat below us.”

He gasps indignantly. “Mr Saunders is eighty-five and has no teeth.”

“I like older men and don’t knock the toothless.”

“I can’t believe that you’re mentally cheating on me with an octogenarian.”

I shrug. “I’m nothing but a constant surprise.”

He laughs. “You’ve got that right.” His gaze softens, the warm golden colour seeming to catch and spark in the sunlight. “It constantly surprises me how happy I am.” He looks steadily at me. “I didn’t know I could feel like this and it’s all down to you.”

I smile, hopelessly enchanted as always. “You make me so happy too.”

He grins widely. “I know,” he says smugly. “You’d be lost without me.”

My smile dies. “It’s true,” I say quietly. “I can’t imagine being without you.”

“You’ll never have to,” he says earnestly and then his smile widens and flares. His fingers flex and I shout out as waves of agonized bliss spread across my body as he tickles me again.

“Fuck off!” I shout, bucking and writhing while he stays on top of me like a very determined jockey. “Okay,” I gasp, tears seeping out from my eyes. “I’ll do anything. I’ll say anything.”

“Anything?” he asks silkily, and I nod frantically. “Okay, say you’ll marry me.”

I writhe away from his fingers and then still, every bone in my body locked.

“Wait. What?”

He smiles down at me and I touch the soft warm curve of his lips. “You heard.”

His fingers drop away from my hips and I prop myself up on my elbows. “Did you just ask me to marry you as a means of stopping torture?” He nods slowly and I shake my head. “You’d be ace in a dungeon.”

“If I was in a dungeon,” he says darkly. “You’d be calling me Master and saying yes to my every demand.”

“I don’t think so. The last demand you made was that I eat street food and you know how that turned out.”

“Vomit,” he says, and shudders delicately.

I smile tenderly at him because in reality when I got food poisoning in Vietnam, he’d looked after me with the care and dedication that we always show to each other. We’re a team and he’d told me happily as he sponged me down that we don’t leave a man behind.

“Anyway, back to where I’m your Master and you do as you’re told.”

I laugh. “In your dreams.”

He smiles down at me. “Well?”

My laughter dies away, but it stays inside me, dancing along my nerve ends like it’s having a party. “Are you serious?” I ask softly, and he swallows and nods furiously.

“Totally. I love you, Noah. I never have and never will love anyone like I love you. I want to get married to my best friend. I want my ring on your finger. I want us totally joined.”

“You know we already are, don’t you?” I grab his hand and put it on my chest over my heart. “In here.”

He smiles and taps my ring finger. “I want it on there too. I’m greedy.” He lowers his head to look into my eyes. “Noah Sutton, will you marry me and stay with me forever?”

I swallow hard feeling tears at the back of my throat. “Of course I will, Sage Higgins. I’d marry you tomorrow.”

He gives the wide and slightly naughty grin that has always dared me to do and be more. “Well, it’s a good job you said that.”

I gasp. “Really?”

He throws his head back laughing and then looks down at me. “We can get married on the beach here if you want to. Just us.”

I nod frantically. “That’s the way it should be. I want that, Sage.” I pause. “I don’t want rings though. When we get back home I want you to tattoo the ring on my finger instead.”

His eyes flare. “Your first tattoo. I love that it’s going to be the sign that we belong together.”

He lowers his head and kisses me, tangling our tongues together and then tears his lips away and buries his head in my shoulder. “I’m so happy,” he whispers, and I hug him tight against me. I would know his body and scent if I was blind.

“Me too.”

After a few minutes to my amazement I hear him laugh. “What?” I ask.

He pulls his head back and looks down at me, his eyes full of a bright merriment and seeming to reflect the afternoon light. “Make sure you tell your mother that the proposal happened after naked wrestling.”

I groan. “Shit. I’d rather go with the dungeon story.”

His laughter falls into my ears and my vision is full of the mile-long smile and wavy sun streaked hair of my best friend. In truth it always has been, and it always will be.