I said, “It’s really good to see you, mate. Sorry that I’ve done a botch job of keeping in touch.”
He clapped me on the back and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I get why you stayed away. And things seemed to have worked themselves out just fine.” I peeked into the car, where Bliss was smiling and listening to some no doubt filthy story that Rowland was telling her from the driver’s seat. I smiled. “Yeah, things have worked out perfectly.”
I climbed into the backseat and pulled Bliss over to meet me in the middle. My old mates might have been troublemakers of the highest order, but they did have one thing going for them; Bliss was the most relaxed I’d seen her in the last week.
Maybe it was a good idea to just let loose for a little while. We both needed it.
I brought her head close to mine, pressing my nose into her curls as she laughed at the ridiculous voice Rowland was doing in imitation of his mother. Her warmth, her scent calmed me. And she made me see London in a new light. She made me see it how it was before my parents and all their pressure and manipulation had made me want to leave.
Again and again, Bliss seemed to be my new beginning, the thing to help me let go of the past and move forward.
She rested a hand on my thigh and looked up at me. I must have been tuned out for longer than I realized because she asked, “You okay?”
I laid my hand over hers and said, “Just glad to be home and to have you with me.”
She turned her hand over and laced her fingers with mine, and Rowland made gagging noises in the front seat.
“Oh shut it, Row. You’re just jealous because you haven’t yet managed to hold on to a woman for more than one night.”
“Managed? Managed? I should win an award for that. It’s harder than you think.”
Bliss snuggled into my side and asked, “So how long have you known Garrick?”
Rowland answered, “I’ve only known him since secondary.”
“High school,” I translated for Bliss.
“But Graham and Garrick have been attached at the hip since they were in nappies.”
“Diapers,” I added.
“Hey, she gets the gist of it. No need to translate every bleeding thing I say. I’m speaking English.”
“So what you’re saying,” Bliss began, leaning forward between the two front seats, “is that Graham is the one to go to for the embarrassing stories?”
“Excuse me.” I poked her in the side, and she squirmed away from me.
“Oh come on. Like you don’t know enough embarrassing things about me. You’ve been there for too many of them.”
“Do tell,” Rowland said, his eyebrows waggling at us through the rearview mirror.
“Don’t. You. Dare.” It was her turn to poke me.
“Wait.” Graham turned in his seat to face us. “Are you talking about being all hot for teacher?”
“Garrick!” I had a feeling I was going to be hearing my name in that tone all too often on this trip. “You told them?”
“I told Graham. Since Rowland doesn’t seem too surprised, I’m guessing he’s been filled in.”
Bliss bent and buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why would you be embarrassed?” Rowland asked. “You can’t get much hotter than a schoolgirl fantasy. After Graham told me, I had dreams for a week featuring girls in our old school uniforms.”
Bliss gave a garbled groan and sank even further until her face rested against her knees. I was still learning the intricacies of speaking Bliss, but I was fairly certain that groan meant that she thought she was dying of mortification.
I leveled a stare at him and said, “Thanks a lot, mate.”
Then I ran a hand across the curve of Bliss’s back and said, “There’s no reason to be embarrassed, because we didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t ever want to have to lie about us again.”
Call it an issue. Call it baggage. But I really hated lies. They’re ugly things, festering like wounds, spreading like disease. They’re winner-less crimes that hurt everybody in the end.
I felt her back rise and fall in a heaving breath beneath my hand. “You’re right.” She sat up, and I kept my hand between her and the seat. “I’m not sorry, and I’m done being scared of it.”
“Thatta girl,” Rowland said.
“That’s my girl,” I said into her ear.
“You hold on to that thick skin, sweetheart. Let Graham and I treat you to a few pints and you’ll have armor by the time you’re standing in the Taylors’ grand foyer.”
“You have a grand foyer?” She paled.
I scratched at my neck and said, “It’s really only slightly grand.”
“What about stairs? Do you have stairs?”
I nodded.
She threw her hands up. “That’s it. I’m gonna die. I knew it.”
I saw Rowland and Graham glance at each other in confusion, then look at me. I shook my head because I had no idea. Maybe I could be a bit lenient about that one-drink rule.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re not going to die. It’s just a house. Nothing to worry about.”
It really was just a house. I’d not ever really thought of it as a home.
She took a breath and nodded. Sitting up taller, she gave me a determined look.
Stairs. Cats. I loved the woman, but God knows I didn’t always understand her. She was so afraid of little things—mothers and fancy houses—but when she set her mind to something, she tackled it with such ferocity. Big things. Scary things.
Her career in Philly. Life after college. Falling in love with me.
I was the one that struggled with the big picture. I never quite knew what I wanted until it had already slapped me around a bit.
Or until she walked into my life with an imaginary cat.
“SHE DOESN’T NEED another one, Rowland. She’s good.”
We were both good. If I drank any more, I wouldn’t have a filter by the time we met my parents, which was a bit like not having a life raft on the Titanic.
“Oh, come on. What’s the point of working in a pub if I can’t get my friends completely sloshed?”
There was something terribly wrong about being in a near-empty pub midday and having as much alcohol as we had.
“I don’t know . . . gainful employment? Saving up to finally stop living with your parents?”
“Ssh!” He waved a forceful hand at me, like the two people in a booth across the bar were going to hear.
“First of all, that was cold, mate. And second, I have my own flat. It just happens to be above my parents’ garage. That doesn’t count as living with my parents.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Row.”
“Just for that . . .” He poured another glass and slid it in Bliss’s direction.
I snatched it away as she reached for it, and pulled it away from her.
“Hey!” Her bottom lip curled into a pout. An almost irresistible pout.
“Sweetheart, I think you’re fine without it.”
She teetered toward me on her stool, wrapping a hand around my neck. Her fingers tangled in the hair at the base of my neck and she said, “Well, if I can’t have it, you should drink it.”
Rowland cut in, “Now, that is a plan. Maybe another drink will make you less of a bore.”
“I’m not boring.”
Graham gave a loud snore, pretending to sleep with his head balanced on the top of his mug.
Bliss laughed raucously, and the only thing that kept her from toppling off her seat was my hand at her waist. Graham’s eyes opened, and he winked at her before giving another overdramatic snore.
That did it.
I took hold of Bliss’s stool and dragged it over right next to mine. She squealed and fell into me. I tried to not to look too obviously annoyed at Graham as I draped my arm over her shoulder and took a swig of beer.
Rowland cheered, Bliss hummed against the skin of my neck, and I told myself one drink wouldn’t hurt.
Famous last words.
4
Bliss
“OKAY, NOW WE’RE really done,” Garrick said, his voice deep and hypnotic.
I didn’t want to be done. This was so much more fun than meeting his parents. I rested my chin on his shoulder and said, “Just one more.”
He glanced down at me and said, “Trust me, love. You’re going to want to stop now. Otherwise you’ll be making up songs and talking about how good I smell and getting inappropriately touchy.”
I laid my cheek down on his shoulder and slipped my fingers just below the collar of his shirt. “I thought you liked it when I was inappropriately touchy.”
Garrick stilled my hand at his neck and said, “Not when we’re about to meet my mother.”
Oh God. His mother. It shouldn’t be funny, but I found myself laughing anyway. I had to laugh . . . or I might cry. I know he said that Rowland and Graham were joking, but I was fairly certain he was just trying to keep me from running.
Rowland said, “Your mum will understand. The two of you are practically on a honeymoon already. It’s pretty nauseating.”
Graham added, “Of course she’ll understand. I mean, she’s your mom. It’s not like she hasn’t had sex before.”
Oh God. Now I was going to laugh and cry.
Graham leaned around me to look at Garrick, whose face was scrunched up in possibly the only unattractive expression I had ever seen on his face. Taunting Garrick further, he said, “I bet your parents are doing it right now. Sneaking in a quick shag while your flight is ‘delayed.’ ”
Garrick slid off his stool. “And . . . that’s our cue to call it a night.”
“And call a therapist.” Graham smiled.
“And get coffee,” I added. Definitely coffee.
Garrick stood behind me, and his warm hands gripped my shoulders. I leaned back and tilted my head until my head rested against his stomach, and I was looking at him upside down. I blinked. Or I meant to, anyway. Instead, my eyes stayed closed, and the dark swirled with color, and I had the sensation that I was tumbling down a long black hole. I peeled my lids open, and then had to squint against the light of the bar. Between being upside down and being two drinks past the point of caring, the world was horrendously disoriented. “I think . . .” I looked up at Garrick. “That I drank too much.”
Garrick nodded, and if his heavy-lidded eyes were any indication, he wasn’t exactly sober, either. Or he was turned on. Or both . . . hopefully.
He said, “I think I’m friends with a couple pricks.”
Graham stood, leaving his half-empty beer on the bar. “Take it easy on the mushy stuff, Taylor. We know how much you love us. No need to make a spectacle.”
“Let’s just get out of here,” Garrick said.
I agreed by looping my arms around his waist and laying my head against his chest.
Rowland said, “At least she’s relaxed now. I did you a favor.”
I was gloriously relaxed, in fact. And I figured . . . maybe we could stretch out this fake plane delay for a little longer, get a little time on our own in the city before I had to walk the plank. I slid my hands down to the leather belt that wrapped around his hips, and lifted up on my tiptoes. Humming, I found the warm crux where the muscles of his shoulder flowed into his neck. This was the perfect part of him. When I took a deep breath, I could almost imagine we were alone, and I was surrounded by him.