Page 77 of Out of the Shadows
COSMO
After another couple of rounds of some of the hottest sex I’m convinced I’ve ever had, we decided that what little energy we had left wasn’t going to be spent on cooking breakfast.
I’ve got to say, Daniel’s taken to his wholesale change in direction like a duck to water. He’s a fast and very enthusiastic learner — and I’m more than happy to be his teacher — and any nerves or reticence, after what I secretly think of as our first time together, just a couple or so weeks ago, have faded to nothing. Not that I’m complaining, although sitting down isn’t always comfortable.
I shift around in my seat, and almost want to ask for a cushion, like a kid who needs to be raised at the table, because these wooden chairs are too damn hard for an arse that’s had the pummelling mine has taken this morning.
So here we are, in this funky little café in the depths of Clapham on a Sunday morning. I can feel my cheeks tingling. God, am I blushing? One thing I do know, is I won’t be looking at the dining table in Daniel’s kitchen in quite the same way again.
Opposite me, Daniel’s perusing the menu, and as I sip my coffee I take the time to study him.
Warmth tingles over my skin and a now familiar flutter starts up in the pit of my stomach as all the butterflies that live there beat their wings. I feel like I need to pinch myself. Is this man really mine? And look how far we’ve come… All that contempt and loathing, stirred up when he strode into the boardroom. But what do they say about love and hate being the opposite sides of the same coin?
Love.
The word brings me up short.
It’s not that I don’t believe in love, but I think it’s rare. I can’t deny some people find it. Freddie certainly did, but he’s always believed in hearts and flowers ending in happy ever afters, and I spent a good deal of our friendship mocking him for it only for him and Elliot to prove me wrong.
James was the biggest surprise. My cynical man whore cousin, the original Mr. Fuck ‘Em And Leave ‘Em, is now all gooey eyed for the cutest sweetie of them all.
Freddie and James, both have claimed to have found their missing piece in the men they’ve fallen for, completing their picture and making themselves whole. Or some such bollocks. But maybe there is something to this love thing… maybe… yet I’ve seen it fall apart way too often leaving nothing but bloodied, shattered lives in its wake.
My parents’ vicious marriage filled with screaming rows, lies and deceit, and the inevitable messy divorce. My sister’s string of fuck-up husbands, the next one worse than the last. My own disastrous foray into arelationshipwhere I was nothing more than a grubby little secret thrill. I put my mug down with more of a clatter than I intend.
“Do you know what you want?” Daniel asks, looking at me across the top of the laminated menu and peering at me over the rim of his glasses. He makes me think of a librarian. A very hot librarian.
I smile, and lean in towards him.
“I know exactly what I want.”
And it doesn’t include mashed up avocado on sourdough toast…
Daniel’s eyes narrow, as though he’s reading my thoughts, and I answer with what I hope is a sultry and dark smile. I shift again on my seat, but this time it’s got nothing to do with the ache in my arse, although I guess it kind of has. His eyes narrow some more, and god, I swear that alone is enough to make my dick sit up and beg. I tug down my baggy and very faded hoodie which is long enough to cover any areas that might otherwise startle old ladies and frighten horses. Not that there are any of either in this funkiest of funky cafés.
It’s impossible to imagine Daniel in a hoodie. Dark cotton chinos mould to his arse but don’t brag, and a light blue and fitted button-down shirt. His hair’s swept back off his forehead, the silvery grey mixing with the darker strands. It’s a little longer than he was wearing it when he first arrived at the office, and he grumbles he needs to get it cut — or he did until I whispered in his ear that I like to scrunch it up in my fists and tug hard as he—
“You have to make a decision. It’s fundamental to ordering.”
Decision. Ah yes… it wasn’t just this morning’s bout of hot sex and not wanting to faff about making breakfast that prompted my idea for us to go out. I also need to talk to him about something that’s going to mean Daniel having to make another milestone decision. Somehow I thought it’d be easy to talk elsewhere, but now we’re here, amidst the bustle of the busy café, I’m not quite so sure. I clear my throat.
“I’ll have the full English, with extra sausage.”
Daniel raises his brow “Extra sausage? Do you want the vegetarian or the vegan option?”
I snort. “I’ll have the one hundred per cent full on meat version, if you don’t mind.”
“You do realise too much meat isn’t good for you?”
“Not sure I’d agree with that.”
He tuts and purses his lips, but it’s just to stop the grin that’s itching to break out over his face.
“So, one cheese and mushroom omelette, and one full English with extra meaty sausage.” He gets up to place our order at the counter, giving me a quick and decidedly dirty grin as he does so and god, don’t the butterflies in my stomach just beat their wings and fly?
We’re seated by the big plate glass window overlooking the busy high street which, late on a Sunday morning, is teaming. Those butterflies, which are only just beginning to pull in their wings, are part of the reason why I need to speak to him. No, scratch that, they’re the whole reason.
I’m uncharacteristically nervous. What I want to say to him shouldn’t be difficult, but I know it’s not as easy as that, or at least I know it won’t be for Daniel.
