Page 31 of Midnight Wishes

He braced himself for a cutting remark. A sharp no. Instead, she said quietly, ‘You’ll get spoilers.’

‘Do you really think Abby has never made me watch this movie?’ Moving faster, he deposited his plate in the dishwasher and stumbled to his bedroom. ‘It’s been a while though. Catch me up while I get into bed?’

While he brushed his teeth and stripped off his work clothes, Sarah chattered away about dancing and sibling dynamics and admitted she’d happily be a third to Elizabeth and Darcy. He had to agree.

Celine bounded onto the bed next to him when he slipped between his sheets with his laptop. The cool fabric was heaven on his skin, which felt tight and sensitive, stretched over pulsing muscles and fizzing nerve endings. Her head lifted at Sarah’s tinny voice coming through his speaker, and she shuffled closer, dropping her head next to his phone.

He couldn’t tell if it made him feel more or less pathetic that even his fucking dog was gone for this woman.

After he cued it up to the timestamp she’d given him, they watched mostly in silence, save for occasional remarks from Sarah. He hated that she was sick. But for whatever reason—weakness? Delirium? He certainly wasn’t delusional enough to call it comfort-seeking—she was choosing to let him be close.

And with ten minutes left in the movie, her breathing deepened on the other end of the phone.

‘Princess?’ Silence. ‘Sarah.’ Nothing. He sighed, wanting to be there, in her too-small bed, with her. In his fantasy, she’d let him hold her, keeping her warm and safe in his arms. When he was satisfied she was asleep, he whispered one more thing into the darkness. ‘I wish you’d let me look after you.’

Chapter 17

SARAH

touch tank | quinnie

‘You still won’ttell me where we’re going?’ Abby asked, as they got off the train.

‘I did tell you. We’re going to get your engagement gift.’ They’d had the same conversation three times already.

‘Shouldn’t the person I’m engaged to be getting it as well?’

‘Trust me. He will.’ Sarah smiled cryptically. Abby frowned. ‘Come on. Have I ever led you astray?’

‘There was that time at uni where you made me come to a party with you because you liked a guy, and he propositioned us for a threesome.’

She’d been hoping Abby had forgotten that.

‘I won’t pretend I’ve always had great taste.’ It wasn’t much better now. ‘But seriously, you two are going to love this.’

They stopped outside a sleek, modern block of flats, and Sarah shot off a text. A few seconds later, they were buzzed in and making their way to the eerily quiet top floor, their footsteps the only sound echoing through the passage.

‘Have you brought me here to murder me? Because I’m thinking that would not be a great engagement gift for Erik,’ Abby whispered. ‘And truly, unless you manage to frame him, you’re going to be the first suspect.’

‘Will you calm down? We’re almost…here!’ Sarah knocked triumphantly on a glossy black door.

The woman who greeted them had a blunt red bob and lipstick to match. With an outfit made up of mismatched prints and topped off with a leather jacket, she exuded the kind of effortless cool that Sarah had, ironically, expended far too much effort chasing in her life.

‘Alice! Nice to properly meet you. This is Abby. She’s the bride.’

Alice’s demeanour was exactly as no-nonsense as the tone of her emails had suggested. ‘Hi, ladies.’ She ushered them in and gestured to the racks of lace and satin behind her. ‘Lingerie is sorted by size, then colour. Find something you love enough to wear after. It’s included in the session fee. Sarah, can we start with you so we get peak golden light for the bride-to-be?’ She spoke in quick spurts, barely seeming to need breath. ‘Pick something out, get changed, and I’ll meet you in there in ten minutes.’ She disappeared through a door hidden by a host of chiffon dressing gowns.

‘Sarah,’ Abby said, a grin peeling across her face. ‘Is this a boudoir shoot?’

Sarah reflected her smile. ‘I’m assuming you haven’t done one.’

It had been on her own bucket list for over a year, but she’d kept finding excuses not to do it. When she’d had the ideato book one for Abby, she’d finally decided to take the plunge herself.

Settling on a deep purple set complete with garters and a suspender belt, Sarah turned back to her friend. ‘I think you’re obligated to choose something white. Your fiancé’s heart might give out though.’

Sarah had expected to take some time settling into the session, learning to feel comfortable moving her body for the camera in ways that should objectively feel silly. But Alice really knew what she was doing. Quiet, slightly sensual music played as she walked into the room—a library set, the thing that had really sealed the deal for her when booking the shoot with Abby in mind—and the light waft of a citrus and cedar candle calmed her.

They started simple, with poses Sarah would have found entirely comfortable when clothed. She curled in a leather armchair with a book, reclined on a velvet couch she was desperate to steal for her living room, sat at a large desk with stiletto-clad feet propped on top, her back arched so a slice of sunlight could highlight her chest. With each click of the camera, she grew in confidence, so when Alice suggested she run her fingers down the valley between her breasts, head arched upwards and mouth slightly open, instead of the awkwardness she’d expected, she felt…sexy. Strong. Confident. Not enough to bare herself completely. But enough to unclasp the bra and hold it loosely to her chest.

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