Page 46 of Big Nick Energy
I tense my body, noticing that my fingers are all pruny and wrinkled. ‘Perfect. Can I get something with egg and pork belly?’
‘You can.’ He comes over to me and embraces me tightly and I sigh to feel his body heat but also the fact he wants to look after me this evening.
‘I’m sorry. Once I regain feeling in my joints, I might be up for something a bit more sexual.’
He laughs. ‘Is that why you think I invited you over?’
‘Well, no but…’
‘I’m sure if I was in the same situation you’d do the same for me.’
‘I would,’ I say, my cheek resting against his chest.
He unwraps the robe from my shoulders and kisses one before looking me in the eye, reaching around to unhook my bra and then bending down to remove my knickers. I close my eyes, grinning as he does it because the intimacy of it sends a shiver down my spine. ‘Get in, warm up. I’m going to order us food.’ He lends me a hand as I step over the side of the bath, and the water, the bubbles, the heat of it, is an instant relief, leading me to make an extraordinary sigh of joy. Nick chuckles to hear it. ‘Good?’
‘Magnificent. Is that lavender?’
‘It is. Good nose. I do enjoy a calming, relaxing scent after a long day at work,’ he jokes.
He leans over to give me another kiss on the forehead, not before lighting a candle on a shelf nearby. ‘Dumplings too, you like dumplings, yeah?’
I nod, my eyes closed in contentment as I continue to thaw out in the water, and I see his eyes glance down to see my nipples poking out through the bubbles. I catch his eye as he grins cheekily. Was this a ploy to see my naked body? I really don’t care. He escapes into another room to get his phone and I suddenly hear music coming out from somewhere. Ibiza chillout sounds. The lights dim. God, this is lovely. Can you rate baths? Because this is definitely in my top ten. I glance at the toiletries on the side, looking at the shampoos and scrubs that Nick uses, smelling them and looking around at how immaculate it is. I have issues with my grout but not here, it’s sparkling clean. He returns minutes later and I watch as he hands me a glass of wine. I lied. This is now the perfect bath.
‘Get this down you,’ he says.
I nod, sitting up as his eyes travel down again to watch the bubbles sliding off my skin. ‘You’re an angel. Your bath is singing to me, by the way.’
‘It’s a good bath like that,’ he jokes. He drags a stool over to sit nearby and keep me company, his fingers gliding over apps as he orders food. I take a sip of my wine and watch his body leaning against the wall, the curve of his shoulders. Maybe I should have called him before, maybe I shouldn’t have had any doubts that he would have showed up for me. ‘All done. How are we feeling?’
‘Warmer.’
‘That is good. You soak in there for as long as you want. How’s the car?’
‘Most likely dead. It’s my old Renault 5,’ I say.
‘Shite, the Ronald McRocket? That thing is still driving?’
He’s remembered my car had a nickname and the many trips up and down the M4 we once shared in it. ‘It doesn’t have a second gear but it’s been a good run-around for many years.’
‘May he rest in peace.’
‘Amen.’
‘Did you need another one?’ he asks, sipping at his own glass of wine, reaching over to top up mine.
‘A car? Well, I didn’t drive a lot anyway living in London, maybe I need to start relying on public transport.’
‘We’ll get you a new one, no bother.’
I take a sip of wine as he says this.We?We’d go car shopping or pick one off the internet? Or he’d buy me a brand-new car? That is too much. He’s already bought me those earrings. I’m happy enough that he’s run me a bath. I’m a simple girl, really.
‘Or we can wait. Give me a chance to mourn the old car first,’ I say. ‘Actually, you probably don’t but do you have anything I could tie my hair with? I’m starting to turn into a feral mermaid, the curls go a bit mental with the damp.’ I shake my hair around. I just need it out of my face so I can enjoy this wine a bit more. ‘Anything, I’ll take a rubber band if you’ve got it.’
He smiles but goes to a drawer under his sink and pulls out a scrunchie. ‘Will this do you?’
He hands it over. It’s black and silk. I shouldn’t think anything of it but I do. ‘Is this yours? For when you’re doing your skincare and stuff?’ I ask, pulling it over my hands and grabbing my hair into a bun.
‘Yeah, I do love a face mask,’ he jokes but he realises there are questions forthcoming. ‘Well, we all have relics from relationships past, eh? Things we inherit.’
