Page 113 of Power Moves
We stand for a few moments, breathing each other in, basking in the closeness. I want so badly to kiss him again, but I want this too. The togetherness, the peace, the silence offinally knowing and understanding that we want each other in so many different ways. I’ve been racing against life for so long, it feels so nourishing to pause and be held. With Archie I never feel scared, I realise. He makes me feel safe.
When Archie eventually speaks, his voice is playful. ‘Your apartment is bigger than I expected,’ he says.
‘What?’ I lift my gaze. His calves are being squished by the coffee table while mine are jammed against the couch. It’s inconceivable that he could consider this big, even on a relative scale.
I’m on the verge of explaining this when I spot his giant grin, which pretty much saysMillsy + bait = already taken.
I catch myself and laugh, nuzzling back into his embrace and simultaneously wondering if I should prove to him how small this apartment is. With a deft pivot and shoulder-charge, I could push him flat onto my mattress and pin his hips down with mine.
I decide there’s no time like the present.
We fit.
?
Archie’s fingers drum the curve of my waist as we lie in bed amid a tangle of sheets. ‘Are we checking the results?’ he asks.
‘Depends,’ I say, twisting towards him. ‘Will you be tempted to start filing stories?’
‘I think I’m suitably distracted at the moment.’ He leans over to plant a trail of kisses across my collarbone. The beating in my chest is so ridiculously loud, he can probably hear it.
‘Archie.’ I put my hand on his cheek and wiggle closer, pressing our bodies flush together. ‘In case I haven’t made it clear, I kind of like you.’
Archie’s hands slide over my bare skin and settle at my waist. ‘I kind of like you too.’
The goosebumps that appear over my body are instant and we grin at each other like fools because we are. We’re idiots. We’ve wasted so long. We should have been doing this since forever.
‘So are we checking?’ Archie asks.
‘Yep, do it,’ I say. ‘I need to know.’
Archie grabs the remote from my side table and the TV blinks to life.
‘They’re about to call it,’ he says, pulling me back into the crook of his arm. On the screen is a map of red and blue shapes, jigsawed together within the outline of New South Wales.
I shake my head, smiling. ‘I can’t believe I spent election day in bed with Archie Cohen.’
Archie chuckles and wraps me closer against his chest. ‘Here it comes.’
We listen to the well-coiffed presenter announce the results, her words settling slowly, like feathers floating from the sky.
‘So … they won?’ I stutter. ‘They’re staying in power?’
Archie’s eyes are darting across the screen. ‘But … ah, yep. Harcourt is out.’
‘Oh,’ I say, numbly. That’s all I can think of. A dull, useless non-word.Oh.
‘Do you think he lost his seat because of me? Or did he lose it himself?’ I close my eyes with a sigh, a heaviness settling over my chest. ‘Did I even need to drop the story?’
‘I think you did,’ says Archie, squeezing me tighter. ‘You did it for yourself and for every person who’s ever going to work for Harcourt in the future. For every person in a workplace who’s been told to stay quiet and shut up, even when they know they shouldn’t. Who knows, maybe things will change thanks to you.’
I think of Boss and his suits and his car and his colleagues; I think of the businessmen at the conference, the stern glares on the portraits in the wood-panelled foyer of the university. I swallow hard. Maybe things will change, maybe they won’t.
All I can do is hope.
CHAPTER 55
The bitumen of the car park is baked to a silvery grey after decades withstanding the Sydney sun. The grassy clearing in the distance is ringed by bushland and dotted with picnic tables and the odd magpie pecking at discarded hot chips. The leaves of every gum tree are bathed in a crisp sunlight which has sucked the night’s dew back into the atmosphere. Archie turns off the ignition and extends a giant leg out of the car door. I wonder if it will ever stop amusing me that he is too large for normal human contraptions (i.e. cars).
