Page 87 of The Art of Loving You

‘I never realised this was here.’ The wondrous look on Jack’s face had made me pleased I had brought him.

‘Not many people do.’

It was later, he kissed me. He’d been swimming in the lake, urging me to join him.

‘We’ll freeze!’ I’d laughed.

‘Trust me,’ he had said and I did then. I do now as he asks me,‘Close your eyes, Libby. I can’t touch you but I can tell you. I can tell you what I’d like to do to you, if only I could.’ I’m filled with both fear and anticipation as I allow my eyelids to shut, worried he won’t be there again when I open them, everything inside me igniting as I wait for him to speak, and when he does it is soft and loaded with longing.

‘Firstly, I’d gently kiss your neck in the way you like, my mouth moving down to your shoulders, feathering across your collarbone.’

I tipped my head back, exposing the hollows of my throat desperately longing for the feel of his lips against my skin.

‘And all the while I’d be unbuttoning your blouse, slowly, slowly. My fingers would trail across your stomach, over your hips, dipping below the waistband of your jeans before they lightly stroked their way towards your bra. I wouldn’t take it off though, not yet.’

I groaned, arching my back, wanting him to take my bra off, my nipples aching to be touched. ‘Jack, please,’ I begged. He was driving me crazy.

‘Shh. Not yet. We’ve all the time in the world, Libby,’ he said. He carried on telling me what he wanted to do to me and I felt it.

I felt it all.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

When I woke, it was 9 a.m. I had been determined not to sleep while Jack was with me but I must have drifted off in the early hours. I was still in the snug. Still wearing yesterday’s clothes. My neck, at an unaccustomed angle, protested as I sat up too quickly.

‘Jack?’

His aftershave was a strong presence in the room.

‘Jack?’

Where had he gone? I was frantic as I unpeeled myself from the sofa, every part of my body aching and not just because of the sagging cushions and wiry springs that had dug into my back. I ached with sadness.

I ached with missing him.

Where was he?

My heart pounded, breath catching. Last night had felt like the beginning of something but what if it had been the end? A goodbye?

What if it had never happened at all.

‘Please. I need you. Please—’

‘Libby.’ His voice a whisper.

The door pushed open. Alice stepped inside.

‘What are you doing here?’ I was so confused. I hadn’t heard her arrive.

‘We need to talk. I looked through the window and you were sleeping on the sofa so I let myself in.’ She sniffed the air. ‘It … it smells nice in here. It smells of Jack. Were you … were you talking to him?’

‘You heard him?’

‘Heardhim?’ Alice looked at me with such pity. ‘I only heard you.’

‘But you can smell him?’

‘His aftershave, Libby.’ Alice spoke slowly, studying my face while she did so. Her expression was inscrutable.

---