Page 79 of Saving Ren
21 has been my album of choice these past months, and hearing her tonight is like having a friend whisper in my ear, giving me confidence, reassuring me that what I’ve just done, what I’m doing, is the right thing.
I shiver, the cool night air hitting me now that it’s only my feet dangling in the warm water of the spa.
As if finally realising I’m there, Gabe looks up at me.
“You good?” he asks quietly.
I nod. “Yeah. You?”
Until that moment, he’d looked intense. Jaw set, brows pulled down and together, but as his eyes dart over my face, he visibly relaxes. His mouth quirks up into a small smile that makes his eyes shine.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been better, Ren,” he says with a wink. Before I can even think about stopping it, my heart trips over itself, my belly does a backflip, and my pussy squeezes so tight it causes his dick to twitch in response.
We stare, both of us with stupid grins on our faces, at our bodies’ reactions, but we still don’t move to break apart.
“As much as I’d like to stay buried balls deep inside you, I don’t want you catching pneumonia. I’m gonna go inside, grab a couple of towels, and another beer. You good with that?”
I nod.
He leans in and gently brushes his mouth against mine before pulling out of me, stepping out of the spa, and heading towards where the timber bi-folds open. Obviously, I watch his bare, sexy arse until he disappears inside.
Sitting up, I lift my glass of wine from the side of the spa, press the button to set the jets back in motion, and slide beneath the heat of the bubbling water.
Sipping my wine, I stare up at the sky and attempt to gather my thoughts.
The Australian night sky has always fascinated me. I was born and lived in London until I was thirteen and was not impressed with my parents' decision to move here, dragging me away from all my friends and a life that I truly loved. I had defied them at every opportunity in the first few months we lived here, and after every argument we had, I would sneak out of the house, lay in the garden, and look up at the stars. They were my constant, the thing that I still had in common with the friends I had to leave behind. The moon and the stars were the same ones my mates back in London would see.
I would lay there, my thirteen-year-old brain plotting revenge on my parents for ruining my life, planning my escape back to England as soon as I could get the money together for my airfare. All the while, I was fascinated by the fact you could see the Milky Way with the naked eye, which was something that wasn't possible with all the light pollution in London.
Seeing my first ever shooting star only a few nights after getting here was a memory I’d treasure forever. For some reason, I took great comfort from it, imagining it was a sign, the universe telling me everything was going to be all right.
Letting out a sigh, I cast my gaze to Gabe as he reappears on the deck. A towel wrapped low on his hips, another in his hand, beer raised to his lips, eyes on me as he moves.
I fight not to smile as The Corrs ‘Breathless’ plays as he makes his approach.
Inwardly I groan as I decide not to dwell on what needs to be said and instead go straight into the conversation we should’ve had before we fucked.
“We didn’t use a condom,” I say as Gabe drops the towel from his hips before stepping back down into the water.
Without a word, he leans towards the spa’s control panel and presses a button. LED’s light up beneath the water and the area surrounding us.
I sip my wine; Gabe takes a long swig on his beer.
“Are you not on the pill?” he asks with a shake of his head.
“No, I have an IUD, a coil… the coil, whatever. I'm not worried about getting pregnant. I think those days are behind me.”
He nods but says no more.
“I’ve been sleeping with the same man for almost twenty-seven years. Before him, I’d only ever slept with one other. You’re my third.”
He rubs at the back of his neck, takes another swig from his bottle before setting it down.
“That’s my number, three. I’m assuming. . .” I trail off with a nervous laugh, not sure how to word my question without offending him.
“I reckon your number’s a lot higher than mine?”
“You’d reckon right.”
