Page 134 of Off the Pitch

Hugo

“The shower’s free,” Kit called, his voice echoing slightly down the tiny staircase. “I tried not to use all the hot water this time!”

“Thanks, I’ll grab one in a minute,” I called, smiling to myself as I peered into the fridge, trying to work out what to make for dinner after our long day out exploring.

We’d discovered the other day, after we’d both returned home drenched, that the shower only had a tiny hot water tank, and if one of us spent more than five minutes in the shower, the other would get a nasty surprise.

I’d been halfway through scrubbing paint off myself and trying to warm up when the shower spray had gone from nice and hot to sub-zero in two seconds flat. I think you could have heard my screams from space.

Kit had burst into the bathroom, convinced I was being murdered, and then collapsed with laughter once he realised what had happened. It was a good thing I loved him.

The realisation scared me a little, mostly because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like this. It had made me realise that I’d fallen out of love with Hélène long before I’d thought I had. I’d fought for our marriage for a long time, convinced it would be an easy fix, that we just needed to talk things through. But the more distance I gained from it, the more I knew that it was never going to last. We were just two very different people who couldn’t give each other what we wanted, and our failure to recognise just how unhappy we made each other had made it worse.

But I was also a little worried that this love would fade away too. Would I one day wake up and realise I didn’t love Kit anymore? I couldn’t see it happening, but then again, I’d never seen myself getting divorced.

I shook my head, trying to focus again on the task at hand. It was no use worrying about the future. If I spent all my time worrying about whether this would last, I’d inevitably become fixated on it, and that would surely end in disaster. Better to take each day as it came and enjoy them.

Snatching a pack of chicken breasts out of the fridge, I forced my brain back to cooking because the last thing I needed was to accidentally cut my finger off. I wasn’t quite sure how I’d explain that one to Lucas… although I didn’t need all my fingers to play football, so it would be better than breaking my leg again.

Kit still hadn’t come downstairs by the time I’d put dinner in the oven, so I assumed he’d gotten distracted by something. I figured I had time for a shower before I needed to finish cooking.

I stuck my head around the bedroom door, assuming that was where I’d find my missing other half, and had to stop myself from staring. Kit was stretched out on the bed, reading something on his phone, dressed only in a pair of tight-fitting black boxer briefs.

Fuck he looked good.

My eyes swept across his body; from the spread of his shoulders down the gentle curve of his spine to the soft swell of his ass. There was a scattering of freckles across his skin, and I wanted to connect them up with my fingers and kiss every single one of them. I wanted to worship all of him, to show him just how beautiful I thought he was. To show him just how much I loved him.

Kit hadn’t even noticed me, too absorbed by what he was reading. I wanted to watch him for hours, but I coughed to let him know I was there.

“Oh,” he said, turning his head and flushing slightly, the colour spreading down his cheeks to his neck. “I didn’t hear you come up. I, um, I got rather distracted by this article.”

“What’s it about?” I said, trying to act casual.

“Theories about the Loch Ness Monster,” Kit said, rolling onto his side to face me, and I bit my lip as my eyes drank in the sight. There were more freckles across his chest, and a trail of dark red hair running down into his boxers. Fuck, he was sexy. “I figured it was best to be prepared for tomorrow. I mean, I know the monster isn’t supposed to be real, but you never know. It could be.”

“You never know,” I said, forcing the words out after a long pause.

“Is everything okay?” Kit asked raising an eyebrow. He clearly had no idea about the effect he had on me. We may have been sharing a bed recently, but I’d always respected his privacy, unwilling to push him into anything, and he always wore giant pyjamas to bed—no matter the temperature. This was the first time I’d seen him like this, and he was breath-taking.

“You’re gorgeous, did you know that?”

“Oh… Oh!” Kit looked down at himself and laughed. “I, um, I thought I’d gotten dressed again. I must have gotten distracted halfway through.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s fine,” Kit replied, giving me a wry smile. “I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, I do think it’s a little unfair that I’m currently sans clothing and you aren’t.”

“I can fix that, if you want?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Kit said, his eyes raking slowly down my body. “I want to see if it matches what’s in my imagination. And the pictures I saw on Pinterest.”

I chuckled, pulling my shirt over my head and dropping it on the floor.

“Nope, it’s better.” There was a hungry look in Kit’s eyes now. “Keep going. Please.”

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