LAUREN

 

I was in bed, not asleep, but in bed, when the banging started at my door. I ignored it but Derek wasn’t giving up. Finally, afraid the neighbours would call the police, I stormed down the hallway and ripped open the door.

“Fuck off!” I yelled.

“I’m so sorry,” Gabe said as he stumbled through the door. “Lauren, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I never wanted—” He crumpled to the floor and sat with his back resting against the couch. “I’m just so sorry.”

“I thought you would be Derek,” I said, staring down at him, arms crossed and unimpressed.

He pulled himself to his feet and sat on the couch, holding his head between his hands. “Not Derek.” He shook his head. “He took off with the lying-man-stealing-bitch after I knocked him down. He doesn’t learn very quickly, does he?” His eyes were red and swollen. “He doesn’t love you, Lauren. Not like I do.”

His words cut me, but I had at least expected as much. Derek had been speaking to her without telling me. She thought it was okay to turn up at a function I was attending. Clearly, she wasn’t out of his life like he had said. Surprisingly, I was not angry about it. In fact, right now I couldn’t care less. I was done with the night. Done with drunk men. I just wanted the blissful oblivion of sleep.

“Go home, Gabe.”

“Didn’t you hear me, Lauren? I said I love you.”

“And you thought beating the crap out of Derek would prove that to me? You’re drunk. Go home.”

Gabe stood, all previous drunkenness disappearing as he grasped my shoulders. “I’m not that drunk, Lauren. I know exactly what I’m doing. I know exactly what I want. And it’s you.”

His eyes searched my face and my resolve started to waver. What was it about him that so easily undid me? He cupped my face and slowly drew me close. His blue eyes were dark yet hopeful, the closer he got, and when his lips finally touched mine, they were so soft they felt like a feather.

“Please,” he groaned. There it was again. That groan. “Please say you forgive me.”

His kisses grew more urgent and I felt my body responding, even as I willed it not to. I wrapped my hands in his hair and pulled him closer until our bodies melded into one. His body pressed against every inch of me as he ran his mouth down my neck and nuzzled into the curve of my shoulder. His breathing became erratic and laboured and I pulled away from him.

“No,” I breathed shakily.

Gabe stood at arm’s length his eyes pleading. “Let me stay.”

I started to shake my head.

“I won’t touch you. I won’t kiss you. I won’t do anything. Just let me stay. And if you want me to leave in the morning, I promise I’ll leave without a word.”

I should have said no. I should have steeled myself against those pleading eyes.

But I didn’t.

* * *

Gabe kept true to his word. Well, not exactly but close enough. I woke with him huddled against me, arms around my waist, cheek pressed against my back. As I tried to slide out from his embrace, his grip tightened.

“Not yet,” he whispered.

I relaxed into him, relishing the feel of his skin against mine, his arms around me. “Good morning,” I whispered.

His cheek crumpled against my back and his fine stubble grazed against me as he smiled. “Good morning,” he whispered and sat up to kiss my cheek before lying back down. “Can I ask you something? Why are we whispering?”

I laughed and rolled over to face him, feeling happier than I had done in days. “I have no idea.” Propping myself up on my elbows, I studied him. “How’s the head?” And then I added, “And the body?”

“Surprisingly good, actually.” He stretched into the air, testing his muscles for soreness. “Head’s a little achy but other than that, pretty fucking great.” He reached over and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “So now that we’re here in the cold light of day, am I leaving?”

There were two sides to me. Well, at least two sides. One was the sensible side that told me when something was bad, a stupid idea, or just plain dangerous, and the other side was the one that ached for fun.

In the past, the sensible side was responsible for telling me to save money, do the housework now instead of reading that novel, it told me not to eat that bar of chocolate, or drink that next glass/bottle of wine. It was the side that said hard work equals reward. That good things were worth waiting for. Be patient. Wait.

And then there was the flipside. The wilder side. The side that told me to enjoy life, eat the chocolate, drink the wine, and to hell with waiting. Grasp life with both hands and screw the consequences. Live for the now. Fuck the Adonis of a boy lying next to me.

And, as I lay there and watched Gabe anxiously wait for my response, one side was speaking a lot louder than the other.

“You can stay,” I said.

Gabe leapt on top of me, pinning my hands to my sides and kissing me repeatedly, over my face, my neck, my shoulders, every inch that was exposed from the covers as I squirmed and laughed underneath him, revelling in his attention.

“You can’t tell anyone, though,” I said with mock severity.

Gabe shook his head and continued to kiss me. There was something so undeniably honest and open about him, so joyful and unabashed, I almost didn’t want to insist that he keep whatever we had a secret. But I also couldn’t bear the thought of wagging tongues.

“I’m serious, Gabe,” I said, wriggling my hands free and grabbing his face. “I don’t want people to know.”

He grinned and tried to kiss me again but I held onto his face. “Fine. Whatever you want, Ren,” he said and kissed my nose.

I shook my head and laughed as his feather-like kisses tickled me. “Don’t call me that. Only Peta and Shrek call me that.”

“Any other nicknames that I don’t know about?” He cocked one eyebrow.

“My sister calls me L, but I don’t really like that either. And Peta’s kids call me Stimpy.”

Gabe froze above me, looking confused. “Stimpy?”

“Yeah, like in the cartoon. Their eldest boy, Nicholas, has got this obsession with that old cartoon, Ren and Stimpy.”

Gabe’s forehead wrinkled. “Never heard of it.”

I gently whacked his arm. “Of course you wouldn’t. It was a ninety’s show. You were barely even born when it was on.”

“Well, what’s a kid his age doing watching it?”

I shrugged. “You Tube.”

Gabe grinned. “I know,” he said. “I’ll call you, Mrs Robinson.”

“You will not!” I exclaimed.

“It suits us. An older woman, a younger man? You can just call me Dustin.”

“He was called Benjamin in the movie and he wasn’t as young as they made out when he played the part. In reality, there was only six years difference in their ages.”

“Oh, was he? You seem to know an awful lot about this movie.”

“I have a talent for retaining useless information.” I squished his cheeks together and kissed his puckered lips. “And how come you know that movie but not Ren and Stimpy?”

“My mother is obsessed with old movies,” he said, his words mumbled by his squished cheeks. “She refuses to watch anything made in this century.” Pulling my hands away, he placed them around his neck. “Now,” he said with a slow sexy smile. “How about what I want?”

His eyes turned from playful to burning in an instant. He brought his mouth down to mine and kissed me deeply, cradling my shoulders with his hands, drawing me down the bed, closer to him. His tongue explored my mouth and his teeth nipped my lips, tugging and pulling. A well of desire rose within me, and I pulled his head closer, trying to remove the last breath of distance between us.

The doorbell rang and Gabe froze, his mouth still on mine. I cocked my head to the side and listened. The doorbell rang again.

“Just ignore it,” Gabe said.

“I can’t just ignore it.” I pulled myself from the bed and wrapped a dressing gown around me. “Wait here,” I instructed.

Gabe lay back with his hands folded under his head. “As you wish.” His eyes twinkled playfully. I shook my head and leaned over the bed to kiss him but he grabbed me and pulled me on top of him. Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me firmly before whacking my behind. “See? You just can’t keep your hands off me, Mrs Robinson.” He pushed me away playfully. “Go answer that damn doorbell, would you?”

I pursed my lips and left him laughing as I walked down the hallway, tightening my gown around my waist. I pulled open the door and found a battered and broken Derek on my doorstep.

The sensible side of me came rushing back in one fell swoop, and I felt ill after indulging on my Gabe-flavoured chocolate and wine. Gabe was in my bed and I hadn’t even properly broken up with Derek. I was a horrible, horrible woman.

“Hi,” Derek said, peering up at me anxiously. His left eye was swollen and beginning to darken at the edges. His lip was enlarged and there was a bruise spreading across his chin.

“Hi,” I said back, tightening my gown again.

“Can I come in?” He didn’t wait for an answer and instead, walked past me and into the lounge. I silently urged Gabe to stay hidden in the bedroom. I no longer felt angry at Derek. I no longer cared what he did, or didn’t do with Tracey. I just didn’t want him to find Gabe.

“I guess it’s over?” Derek said. It was a question, not a statement, and I couldn’t even look him in the eye as I nodded. “For what it’s worth, I love you, Lauren, and I know this horrid mess is all my fault.”

There was only one question I wanted to ask, as if, somehow, it would make my own transgressions feel a little less awful. “Did you stay with her the night?”

Derek swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and he stared at the ground. “I was drunk.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He nodded, and visibly braced himself for the onslaught that never came. Twisting the ring from my finger, I held it out to him. “Thanks for being honest.”

“I’m really sorry, Lauren.” He stood before me, hesitant to take the ring back.

“I am too.” I pushed the ring into his hand, opened the door and let Derek out of my life.

* * *

 

Gabe was waiting in the hallway, dressed in the same clothes from the night before. “You okay?” he asked. He took my hand and kissed the finger where Derek’s ring had been only moments before.

I sighed and looked up at him. “I feel like shit.”

“You shouldn’t. He cheated on you, not the other way around.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It can be, if you want.”

“I wish I could look at the world the way you do, Gabe.” I sighed again and leaned against the wall. “But it really isn’t that simple. I just broke up with my fiancé, again, while I had you, a man over ten years his junior, waiting in my bed. It’s going to take me a while to come to terms with that.”

“Tut, tut, Mrs Robinson.” Gabe grinned and took my hands in his. “Tomorrow?” he said hopefully.

“Maybe it’s too soon,” I said, already regretting how quickly I let Gabe back into my bed.

“Please? I just want one day where we’re not at work, a day with no ex-fiancé, or flatmates. Just you and me.”

“Fine,” I said, unable to resist his enthusiasm.

“I’ll pick you up at four. Bring your camera.”

“Where are we going?”

But all he did was tap his nose and plant a kiss on my cheek before walking out the door.

* * *

I felt strangely free wandering around my house that day. I didn’t ache for Derek, I didn’t long for Gabe. I turned the music up loud and started unpacking all the boxes that should have been unpacked long ago. Once that was done, I sat on the couch, feet curled under my legs and looked around the room triumphantly. It was still rather bare but with some books on the shelves and artwork on the walls, it looked a little more like someone loved it. I had three missed calls from Peta so I figured now was a good time to call her back. I needed to tell her about Derek but I wasn’t yet ready to come clean concerning Gabe.

“Got time to talk?” I asked as soon as she picked up.

“You have to fill me in,” she demanded. “I’ve been waiting for you to call all day. I’ve heard so much drama about last night and I don’t know what’s true and what isn’t.”

I squished down in the couch and settled in for a good old gossip session. I told Peta everything, well, almost everything. I told her about Derek and Tracey, about Simon pulling out of the fight and Mark organising Gabe to take his place. I told her it all, apart from the connection between Gabe and myself. I just couldn’t face it. I knew when it came down to it, she wouldn’t care, but I also knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the shock out of her tone. I just didn’t feel like being judged.

“I almost wish I was there,” Peta exclaimed when I was finally done. “So, that’s it for you and Derek?”

“Looks like it.”

“You sound surprisingly okay with it,” she said warily.

“I am. Today, anyway. Ask me again tomorrow and you might get a different answer.”

“You want to come over? Shrek’s cooking pasta for dinner.”

“Think I’ll just stay here tonight. Thanks though.”

“I’m here if you need me, okay?”