Page 36 of Retrograde
They were in his penthouse, which overlooked Sydney Harbour. Lucie remembered the first time she’d come here and been too scared to touch anything. She’d watched as Marco and Julien had flung themselves down on the sofa, thrown a football around and put their beers on the coffee table without a mat, while she stood by the front door and stayed away from the pristine white walls, sandy shoes placed firmly on the doormat.
Now, she was tucked up in Brett’s king-sized bed in a pair of old Christmas pyjamas from three years ago, waiting for him to return with a DIY chocolate fondue buffet which posed a risk to the crisp white bedsheets, replaced by Maggie two days prior to their visit.
Despite this place being ridiculously big, there was only one bedroom. The others had been converted into an office, a walk-in closet for Brett’s obscene trainer collection, a personal gym and a gaming room. It was the view that over time had made it feel like home to Lucie.
There weren’t many personal touches in the apartment because Brett still had his childhood bedroom at Maggie’s and that’s where most of his things lived, but every time Lucie looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows, she was looking out at Brett’s home. It didn’t matter where in the world he went; Sydney was where his roots were. It was where his memories of his dad had been formed, and one of Lucie’s favourite things about being around his family was hearing stories about Jack.
‘Your majesty, supper awaits.’ He walked in wearing his pyjama bottoms and a frilly apron, no doubt stolen from his mum, holding a tray of grapes, strawberries, sliced apples and bowls of melted chocolate. It looked like heaven, but her mouth wasn’t watering over the food.
‘Do a twirl,’ she gestured with her hand, to which he spun around and wiggled his hips.
‘You like?’ He looked over his shoulder.
‘Pastel pink is your colour.’
‘Cheers, Sunny,’ he winked.
They settled in to watch a motorsport documentary of one of Brett’s idols, only stopping when he paused mid bite to comment on something and chocolate dripped from his strawberry, sending the pair of them into a blind panic. Lucie was currently in the utility room, loading the duvet cover into the washer with stain remover.
If Brett didn’t have such a sweet tooth, maybe he wouldn’t have loaded the strawberry up with quite so much chocolate. Also, if he hadn’t paid hotels extra to do his laundry for the last ten or so years, maybe he would be the one trying to figure out the buttons on the washer instead of leaving Lucie to wing it and hope that whatever button she was pressing was the right one.
‘Those tatty reindeer PJs have no right looking that good.’ Brett’s voice was soft, and alarm bells were ringing in Lucie’s head as she turned around and saw him staring at her with those gooey, loving eyes.
‘It’s probably because they’re too small,’ she shrugged. ‘Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s been a long week; I need to be horizontal for at least nine hours.’
Even as she said it, she knew she should’ve volunteered to sleep on the sofa. But then he’d know she was weak to his charm today, and if he realised that then he’d go the extra mile to push her over the edge. She’d just have to face the other way, look out at the city instead of at him as she tried to drift off into a peaceful slumber which wasn’t filled with dreams about the way he had touched her the last time.
They crawled back into a clean bed, yet another white duvet cover on. Why he hadn’t chosen a darker colourthis time, she had no idea. He was very fussy about the way things looked, and she had never known him to use anything other than white bedsheets.
‘Luce,’ Brett mumbled into the darkness of the bedroom a few minutes after they’d said goodnight and both pretended to go to sleep. ‘I know you’re awake, you’re breathing funny.’
‘Yeah?’ She sighed, eventually rolling over and ending up in his arms after he’d sneakily shuffled closer to her side of the bed. He smelled of vanilla and it killed her. She still had no idea which product made him smell like that, and she had done her investigations, but it was her favourite scent in the world.
‘I’m glad you’re here with me.’
‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Anderson.’
Brett wrapped an arm round Lucie’s waist, pulling her to him and placing a gentle kiss on the side of her head. She sighed with contentment, and he smiled sleepily.
There was no denying that every time he held her in his arms, it felt like the whole world made sense. Like she was the perfect fit. She was so small against his broad, muscular frame, he felt like he was able to protect her from anything. He just knew that despite how hard he tried, one day they were going to reach a point where he couldn’t protect her from him.
His sisters had been bugging him all day about Lucie. Their cute little sibling trip to the aquarium had turned into an interrogation. The three of them had sat in front of the shark tank, surrounded by blue hues andreflections of the shimmering water where the sunlight above was hitting it. Brett had thought at the time that it would make a beautiful photo, and nobody seeing that photo would have known that both of his sisters were attacking him, right there in the middle of the aquarium, for sleeping in the same bed as Lucie. He might as well throw himself into the tank and let himself be eaten alive by Kaya the Zebra Shark before Piper and Cleo murdered him instead.
He wasn’t quite sure how he had let that one slip, but they’d eventually got it out of him that they had been sharing beds for pretty much their entire friendship. To them, it was normal. But that answer wasn’t good enough, especially for Piper who now seemed to be the leader of the Lucie Protection Squad. They told him it was unfair to lead a girl on like that. Except Brett wasn’t leading her on, because Lucie didn’t want him in that way. If anyone was being led on, it was Brett. By himself.
They didn’t cuddle often. Almost as if they knew that if it became a habit, everythingelsewould become a habit. Brett wasn’t sure if he minded that. Kissing Lucie every day would be a privilege that nobody else had ever had. She’d never been in a serious relationship because she’d never had the time or the desire, or found someone who would treat her right, and Brett hated that in her mind, he was probably just a one-night stand. Well, he knew he was also her best friend, but knowing he wouldn’t ever be more than those two things hurt. It made him want to go out to a bar, get drunk and find the first girl who gave him the right signals. But noneof them were Lucie. Even when he’d slept with Sienna, he’d thought of Lucie.
So, he just lay there next to her, reliving his one night with her for the billionth time, wishing she would wake up from her peaceful sleep and tell him that she wanted him. Because being wanted by a woman like Lucie Carolan was like wearing a badge of honour. She was particular. She knew what she wanted. And Brett loved that about her. He knew that when his girl settled down, she would have made the right choice. She just wouldn’t be his girl any more.
15
Twenty minutes into an episode ofBlack Mirror, Lucie paused the TV and glanced over at Brett. He was sat on the opposite end of the sofa, arms crossed, eyes glued to the screen. It was like she’d hit the pause button onhim. He hadn’t even noticed that the show was no longer playing, and he hadn’t touched the warm, buttery popcorn sitting on the white oak coffee table in front of him.
‘Do you want to go and see her?’ Lucie asked.
‘What are you talking about?’ His head turned.
‘I’m not stupid, Anderson.’
