I think my words struck some sort of cord with Lucas because after my comment about how he dresses, he held me tight and we both drifted off to sleep. Well, I did anyway. I could see the storm cloud descending in his eyes before mine shut so I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that he didn’t get a lot of sleep. Especially when I realise that I’m waking up alone in his bed.

When I sit up I see the bedroom door is ajar and I hear the soft sounds of music playing as always. I find one of Lucas’ shirts to put on before I make use of the bathroom. I check each room but he’s nowhere to be found.

I sit myself down on the sofa and wonder what to do. Do I just pack up and leave, or is he expecting me to wait? Whatever it is, I can’t do anything until I’ve had at least one cup of tea.

I’m just pouring the milk in when I hear the door click shut. I look around the corner to see Lucas walking in, looking a little like the morning after we first slept together. I swear my girly parts do a little dance at the sight of him.

He just unzips his hoodie before he looks up and spots me. His eyes shine with what I hope is excitement as they run down my body, which is covered in his perfect white shirt.

I do the exact same thing as I run my eyes over every inch of the sexy bad boy in front of me. He’s wearing a pair of low slung jogging bottoms with the waistband of his boxers showing. His black hoodie is undone, showing off the glistening sculpted perfection underneath. He has his hood up, making him look like the bad boy you should never talk to, let alone get close to.

I watch, amazed, as he reaches up and knocks the hood off his head. He runs his hands through his hair, making it stick out in all directions.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks with a smirk.

“Guys in suits with perfect hair aren’t really my thing. This though,” I say as I start walking towards him. “This is spot on.” I run my hands up his chest and over his shoulders, giving his hoodie the push it needs to fall down his arms.

I squeal in surprise when I’m suddenly thrown over his shoulder.

“Lucas, what are you doing?” I shout as he walks us to the bathroom and straight to the walk-in shower. He doesn’t answer, just turns its on, and we are both blasted with ice cold water.

“Lucas,” I squeal again as I wriggle in his tight hold to try to get away. I have no hope though; he’s too strong.

“What? Didn’t you want a shower?” he asks with an amused glint in his eye.

This is the Lucas I like: the rough-looking, demanding, slightly arrogant bad boy. Who needs a guy in a suit when you can have one of these?

I’m none too gently manhandled so I’m chest to chest with him before I’m forced back against the tiled wall with a thud.

“I don’t think I said you could wear my shirt,” he says before I hear a rip and then buttons pinging everywhere as he tears in from my body.

“Lucas, that must have cost you a fortune.”

“Don’t give a fuck. I want these,” he says as he pins me to the wall with his hips and brings his hands up to my tits.

I’m grateful we’re in the hotel and not my flat, because the water would have gone cold a long time before we were ready to get out.

* * *

Lucas is leaning back against the vanity unit with a towel around his waist as he watches me wring out my hair and wrap it up in a towel with a bemused look on his face.

“I’ve always wondered how women got that to stay on their heads,” he comments when I tuck the corner under by my neck.

“Something you often think about, is it?” I ask with a laugh as I walk past him and into the bedroom to find some clothes. “Do you like living in a hotel?” I ask over my shoulder, because I don’t actually expect an answer to my first question.

“Uh…I like that there are always people around.”

“I never see you talking to any of them. You only talk to the staff, and when you do that you’re barking orders.”

“If you want something done right, Lilly, then—”

I raise my eyebrow at him and he immediately stops talking. “Really? There are other ways to go about it, Luc. Anyway,” I say, changing the subject slightly. After all, who am I to criticise his skills as a hotel manager? “Why don’t you live away from it all? Get some peace?”

“I have a house,” he admits.

“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting that response. I’ve only ever known him to be staying in a hotel, whether it be this or another one elsewhere in the country. “Where?”

“On the outskirts of town. I hardly ever go there.”

“Could we?”

“What? Go there?”

“Yeah. It would be nice to be away from here, don’t you think?” I watch as he thinks about it for a few seconds before agreeing. “So what are we doing today?”

“Going to my house, by the sounds of it.”

“Okay. I’m cooking you dinner then. Let’s pretend to be a normal couple.”

“I don’t know what normal is, Lilly.”

“We’ll make a normal for us.”

His answering smile melts my heart. Every second I spend with him I feel myself getting in deeper and deeper. I’m pretty sure it’s not a good idea. God, even his mother warned me about him, but I can’t stay away. I should be at home; my final deadline is Friday, and I should be working, but here I am, spending the weekend with Lucas and not really giving my final week of uni a second thought. It’s not like I’m unorganised. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve finished, but the perfectionist in me has me continually going back to tweak something.

* * *

“What’s your favourite food?” I ask on the way to a supermarket to get supplies for his house.

“Uh…I’m not sure I have one.”

“What! You don’t have a dish that reminds you of something? Of being a kid and your mum calling you for dinner and being excited because you know she’s made you favourite?”

The second I look at his face I know exactly what I’ve just done.

“No, Lilly. I would have been excited if there was any kind of food.”

“I’m so so—”

“Don’t.”

“Okay, so what do you always pick when you go to a restaurant? Any certain cuisine, or meat?”

“Sea food, I guess.”

“As long as it doesn’t make you sick,” I say with a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s preferable.”

“Okay, so I’ll make you a paella.”

I spend the rest of the journey looking up a recipe I’d like to cook before writing a list of everything we’re going to need.

“Have you got anything to actually cook with at your place?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s fully stocked. The fridge will be full too, but probably not with what you need.”

I refrain from asking why it would be stocked if he’s never there. I get the sense he doesn’t really want to talk about it.

Lucas grabs a basket with one hand as we enter and my hand with the other. The simple action brings a smile to my face. Nothing about our relationship has been what anyone would class as normal so far, so doing something as every day as visiting a supermarket is a little surreal.

“Come here often?” I ask with a laugh as we head towards the in-store fishmongers.

“No, I can’t actually remember the last time I visited one. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“It’s not bad, it’s the way you live. I have to say, I find it a little weird. But then, I don’t live in a hotel.”

“Did you just call me weird?”

“Yep.” That remark earns me a slap on the arse. “Lucas, we’re in public.”

“So?” To prove his point, he backs me up to the bread shelves and kisses me deeply.

* * *

Lucas’ house is exactly what I was expecting when we pull down the down driveway. It’s totally on its own and sat in what looks like a huge piece of land. The house itself is stunning. It’s Georgian, with three floors. It has classic sash windows and a pillared entrance that I would expect from a building of its era. It is stunning and in immaculate condition—probably because it’s not lived in.

I jump out the car and take a better look around at the perfectly pruned bushes and flowers in the front garden while Lucas grabs the bags from the car.

“Come on, stop gawking.”

I follow him up the handful of stairs to the front door. When he opens it, he reveals the most stunning entrance hall.

“Oh my God,” I gasp as I look around. Everything is in keeping with the time it was built although it’s clear it’s been renovated fairly recently. I follow Lucas through the entryway and down the stairs to the lower floor into a humongous kitchen. I am in love.

“Lucas, this place is amazing. How don’t you want to be here all the time?”

He shrugs before saying, “I get lonely.”

My heart bleeds for him when he says things like that. It’s so far removed from the image of the ruthless businessman he likes to portray.

I open the fridge to put everything away and see that he was right—it’s fully loaded with everything you would expect. But no one lives here. I can’t put off asking any longer; it’s too strange.

“Why is it like this if you’re never here?”

Lucas looks over his shoulder where’s he’s stood getting glasses out of a cupboard. “Sylvie keeps it stocked in case I want to come here,” he says with a warm smile. Whoever Sylvie is, it looks like Lucas has a soft spot for her.

“So you do come here sometimes then?”

“No, not really. This is the first time in months.”

“So why bother with all that?”

He shrugs. “I’ve told her not to, but she continues anyway.”

After Lucas has given me the grand tour, we grab some drinks and head out to the decking area, which is bathed in the last of the sunlight.

“This place really is incredible, Luc. I don’t think you’d be able to drag me away if it was mine.”

“Maybe I’ll be spending a bit more time here from now on then.”

His response makes me smile. It also forces a question that I’ve been trying to keep down up to the surface. “What are we doing here, Luc? I mean, you’re my boss. I’m just about to finish uni and start looking for jobs. What are your intentions?”

“Honestly,” he says, looking up at me after swallowing a huge mouthful of his drink. “I’ve no clue. For the first time in years, I have no plan. You have no idea how huge that is, seeing as I’ve lived a very regimented, organised and planned life since I started at the hotels. For the first time in forever, I have no idea of what I want and where I’m going. I just know that I really like you and I really enjoy spending time with you. Both inside and outside of the bedroom,” he tags on at the end.

“Well, I’m glad you can put up with me outside the bedroom as well,” I say with a laugh.

“I don’t know where this is going to go but I’m willing to give it a go and see if you are,” he says very seriously.

I take a moment and look into his blue eyes. They will me to agree with him and not ask for any more. At this point in my life, I don’t think I could offer any more. As much as I do want to think about settling down and focusing on the rest of my life as a couple, I’m on the brink of starting my career, so that needs to be my main focus.

“Sounds good to me,” I say before knocking my glass against his when he raises it.

“To us, wherever it may take us.”

“To us.”

To say I was dubious about taking Lilly to my house would be an understatement. It’s a place that I hardly ever go, and one I would never take another person. My parents have only been here once. The only person who is here regularly is Sylvie, and that’s only because she’s cleaning the place and filling up the fridge, only to throw it all away again the following week.

Sylvie originally worked for my mum and dad, but since they downsized they didn’t need her as much so I made up her hours when I bought this place. Sylvie was a huge part of my teenage years. She’s kind of like a much older sister. She was there to listen to me when I needed it. I was horrible to her at times as I tried to vent what I was going through but she took it all. She just seemed to understand what I needed and allowed my anger run its course. She was always there when my mum and dad were away on business to make sure I made it to school and ate properly. I think it’s safe to say that when I left home, she was the one that I missed the most. I thought often about getting in touch, but I knew how disappointed she’d be in me for the life I was living, so I always stopped myself from reaching out. I don’t see her a lot these days but I know she is here trying to do her little bit for me, and it makes me happy that I can make her life a little easier since her husband passed away a few years ago.

“I’m making you breakfast,” I state when Lilly appears in the living room the next morning, once again dressed in one of my shirts.

“You can cook?” she asks, looking sceptical.

“Uh…can’t be that hard.”

She gives me a look that is half amused, half questioning, but I slide a cup of tea towards her and ignore it.

She perches herself on the bar stool as I start rummaging in the fridge to see what I can find.

Twenty minutes later, it’s clear I really can’t fucking cook. The bacon is like a fucking crisp, whereas the sausages are raw. What the fuck? It can’t be this hard to make a fry up. Lilly kept trying to stick her nose in so I banished her to the living room to give me some peace, but I’m now wishing she stayed and took over.

“Lucas, I can smell burn…oh,” she says, looking worried as she rushes into the kitchen.

“Looks like I can’t cook. Shall we go out?”

“Nonsense,” I hear shouted loudly from the bottom of the stairs.

I don’t have time to think about whether I want Sylvie and Lilly to meet, because it’s too late.

“Oh my days! Lucas, you’ve got a girlfriend?” Sylvie asks the second she claps eyes on a barely-clad Lilly.

“Good morning, Sylvie,” I say as I go over to kiss her cheek. She has aged quite a bit since I saw her last and it hits me hard that I haven’t made time for her. Especially now she’s alone. She never had any kids of her own; I think it’s why she made so much time for me.

“Lucas,” she snaps, but she’s too gentle to ever be mean. “Introduce us.”

“Sylvie, this is Lilly, my…”

“Friend,” Lilly helpfully adds.

“Right, I see,” Sylvie says, giving Lilly a wink. “My Jerry and I were friends like that once. Those were good times.”

I can’t help but smile, seeing the happiness on Sylvie’s face as she thinks back to her late husband.

“Lucas, get out of the kitchen and let an expert take over. He thinks he’s good at everything, this boy,” she says, looking over at Lilly. “Just because he can run a hotel or two doesn’t mean he can run a kitchen. Out of the way, boy,” she says again as she whips a tea towel in my direction.

Thirty minutes later and the three of us are sat around the dining table, eating a properly cooked fry up.

“That is how it’s done, Lucas. I hope you took notes so next time you can make the lovely Lilly here breakfast yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I say with a salute.

Sylvie tried to sneak away once breakfast was made, but I wasn’t having any of it. She wasn’t cooking for us then disappearing once the job was done.

Sylvie and Lilly lose themselves in a conversation about the house, but I lose focus on the conversation. I’m too enthralled watching Lilly interact with another person I care about. It’s like she’s known Sylvie for years with the way they are talking. I thought letting Lilly meet my small circle was going to be weird. I don’t bring new people into my small network, ever, but she fits in so well and makes every effort to be interested in them—I presume just because they are important to me.

As I look at Lilly laughing at something Sylvie said, I feel something I don’t think I’ve ever felt before. I feel at home, like I’ve found somewhere I belong. It has nothing to do with the fact that we’re in my house and everything to do with being with her. I think I could be anywhere in the world and I would feel like I was home, as long as she was with me. It’s the oddest feeling after a lifetime of feeling like I don’t really fit in. I couldn’t have asked for better parents than Christopher and Elaine, but I never really felt like it was my home too.

* * *

We spend the afternoon cuddled up on the sofa watching old black and white westerns on the TV, as the weather had changed. I can’t focus on them though; I’m too close to Lilly for my brain to think about anything but her. If I’m not thinking of all the places around this house that I would like to fuck her, then I’m trying not to think about how much she has come to mean to me in such a short space of time. If I allow myself to think about it too much, I’m worried I’ll do something stupid to put her right and show her the selfish bastard I really am.

“Could you take me back now?” Lilly asks after we’ve had dinner. A wave of disappointment floods me that this weekend is over. I think it’s safe to say it’s up there with last weekend in London for my best weekend ever.

“What? Why?” I ask in a bit of a panic. I’m not ready to let her go yet.

“I don’t want to, Luc,” she says, obviously seeing where my thoughts were headed. “It’s my deadline on Friday. Once I get everything completed, I’m all yours. Well, until I find a job.”

“So you’re telling me I’ve got to take you back now, and that I’m not going to see you all week?”

“Yeah, but,” she quickly adds, “I’ll be free to do whatever, go wherever after that. As long as my demanding boss allows me.”

“I think he’ll agree to most things, Lilly. How about I take you back first thing in the morning?”

It doesn’t take her too long to agree to my plan.

We spend a while longer in front of the TV before Lilly convinces me to make use of the bathtub in the master bathroom. I had it installed because the room would have looked empty without it. I never had any intentions of using it. But being laid out in the bubbles with a soapy, wet Lilly lying on top of me makes me glad I put it in. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday evening. Actually, that’s not true, because not long after that thought, I sit her on top of me and get her to ride me. Water splashes everywhere but I couldn’t give a fuck. I’m in fucking heaven.