Unbind (24 page)

I tossed and turned for as long as I could bear it before I wrenched myself out of bed, wearing only his shirt. I padded downstairs to the kitchen and found some coffee, dropping some in a cup before pressing the instant hot water dispenser. Some milk from the fridge and a touch of sugar, and I was out of there, happily sipping away while I wandered his living space.

In my eagerness to have him inside me yesterday, I hadn’t taken the time to observe his place or what was
really
inside. The sleek walnut stairs in the centre of the living area were freestanding, a lightweight metal rail each side leading straight up to his bedroom above. The upstairs consisted of only his bedroom and bathroom—both situated on a suspended metal platform. From downstairs you could see all the nuts, bolts and poles used to keep everything up there together. Whilst upstairs, all you saw was a plush bedroom area, not this industrial backdrop holding it up. It was unusual, I thought. Which probably suited Cai.

Chunky red-painted pipes came down from beneath the bathroom area, likely they delivered water and extracted waste. Right over our heads, if we were downstairs anyway. Definitely a boy’s pad.

I thought back to the gallery and the ceilings in there were very high, so he’d had this part of the house cornered off for his home, with all the intention of using that other massive space just for his work area.

The mixture of metal, exposed brick and wood flooring wasn’t off-putting. When I looked around, I discovered bookshelves hidden within nooks cut into the walls and took to browsing. There were loads of hardbacks on photography: famous photographers’ collections and books on the study of photography, the techniques. Everything to do with photography. No fiction. I decided he possibly kept his personal reading choices on a tablet or Kindle. To have books in physical form was becoming something rarer, I guessed. He loved photography so at least he had appreciation for something—and he once said he loved
Games of Thrones
. Most other guys I’d dated had appreciated beer, the gym and at a push, perhaps the cinema. Maybe I’d just always gone for the wrong kind of guys.

It was then I had the impulse to go back to his studio and have another look, so I did. It wasn’t just my euphoria the previous night (the day of marathon sex, good food, wine and massages). His work was still amazing in the daylight.

As I wandered, I recognised I may have been on London time—perhaps one of the reasons why I slept uneasily. Yet as the daylight surrounded me, even through the soft blinds of his studio, the truth of my restlessness was awakened. Cai’s pictures were wonderful and showed me a piece of his heart, which he was clearly hiding from all the world, except me.

When I realised I’d drained all of my coffee, I left that space and went to fetch another drink. I couldn’t stand to be faced with his hidden side anymore.

I was walking into the kitchen when I heard his footsteps on the stairs above, tumbling down quickly. He hastened at the door, his hand clutching his chest.

“Shit, I thought you’d left.”

I sheepishly shook my head.
Why is he so afraid?
“No. Still here. Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure. You found your way around?” He closed the space between us and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, inhaling deep breaths of relief.

“A woman knows a kitchen anywhere, Cai,” I told him haughtily.

He burrowed my hair to find the skin of my neck and kissed me incessantly. “I know you’re not the baking slash homemaker type.”

“How would you know?” I was offended, just a bit. Not enough he would notice or feel bad. Yet his assumption did get me worked up inside. I’d never wanted to settle down, but that was before…

“I’m just teasing, beautiful,” he said softly.

“Hmm,” I replied numbly.

When he began prying open the buttons of his borrowed shirt, I shirked him off. I twisted in his arms to face him and damn, the man looked gorgeous even ruffled. I kissed him briefly but warned, “I want to but I’m sore.”

He pulled both lips inside his mouth and looked concerned. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’d like to lie in bed and cuddle, though.”

“Hmm.” He instantly brightened and swiftly picked me up, then went running with me upstairs. His eyes danced as he puffed and panted all the way up, taking two steps at a time. I squealed and kicked my legs to make the climb worse for him!

“The coffee,” I yelled.

“Oh, yeah.”

He dumped me on the bed and went running back down, laughing his head off. I really liked being with a younger, more playful man.

A couple of minutes later, he returned with the mugs, in a less frantic manner than he’d ran up with me. He placed them on the nightstand and crawled into bed, finding me naked underneath the sheet. I’d quickly gotten rid of the shirt.

“Nakey cuddles?” He grinned and sex sounds emanated from him. “Me not touching you is not gonna happen, Chloe.”

“No! No, no, no!”

Yet the moment his soft lips touched mine, I was lost and sinking into the mattress with his weight hovering over mine. His hands tangled in my hair, I surrendered to the happiness he gave me. Talk could wait. So could the rest.

“I’ll be very gentle.”

“I won’t,” I giggled.

WHILE we recovered together, lazily cuddling and kissing, I relished his touch. Yet I had questions. Rather than bombard him, I started simple.

Or maybe, not so much.

“When I go back to England on Friday, what’s going to happen?”

I knew it came right out of left field, but I wanted to know where we were headed. He sat up in bed with some pillows behind him and reached for his coffee—a definite serious look on his face.

“I don’t know, Chloe. What would you like to happen?”

I looked at him, wondering if that was a trick question. “What would I like to happen? As in, really? You want to know?”

“Hmm-mmm, yeah.”

I rolled onto my stomach, drinking my coffee with my head propped on my elbows, my body tangled in the sheets.

“I don’t know, either. I just started this job, I got promoted… they may want me to come out here eventually, but not immediately. It’s why I’m here this week, testing the waters.”

“You’re doing good then?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yep. I got given a chance in a place that will let me excel. It’s what I waited for, for years, I guess.” I shrugged it off, whatever
it
was.

He grimaced and placed his mug down, sliding slightly so he could reach for me while he talked. “I’ll be honest, in either city there’ll be gossip. The sharks will lap up a love interest. There are people out there who still think there’s a story somewhere in my life. I just want you to be happy, so ball’s in your court kiddo.”

“Why is that?” I asked outright. If we were considering being together, why shouldn’t I have asked him? I needed to know what we were up against. “I mean, why are they still hunting a story?”

He gesticulated and tried to bat me off. “I dunno. Maybe… my aunt… the scandal of my first marriage… all that.”

He scrubbed his hand around his head and I swear if I could see my own reflection in that moment, I’d confirm I went bug-eyed. He was going to open up. He saw my face and nodded out of some painful memory, not shame. Something regretful.

“It was annulled so it was never real. Never consummated. We got it written off within days… it was all just a big mistake.”

He rubbed his eyes and seemed saddened so I got up and went over, sitting myself on his lap to wrap my arms around him.

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“No,” he shook his head against my shoulder, “it’s okay. It was just that it happened when I was 18 and… I thought it was all for the best. To finally get my hands on the money. Aunt Jennifer convinced me I had made a big mistake as soon as she found out. I had… I had made a mistake, and I knew it. Jackie, a childhood friend, she was sweet but no way did I love her.”

So it was at least a good six years ago for him but he was still raw about it all. I felt his regret seep from him to me while he hid his face in my neck.

“How old are you now, Cai?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Twenty-five. Back in June, it was all done and dusted with,” he admitted.

I pulled back to scan his face and he looked unemotional.

“How much are we talking, Cai? Not because… just so I know.”

“Just the house,” he told me without hesitation. “Mom squandered the rest. She wouldn’t have gotten anything but a cousin died young and she was next in line. She got the place up in Connecticut and left London. I think she and my aunt fell out around that time and while my mother got lost in her illness here, Jennifer got busy back in London. She used to be a buyer for Harrods
until she worked at
Elle
. Then she got the offer to work as assistant editor at
Frame
. Within only a few months, she was promoted to creative director. Their lives couldn’t have been more different… Jennifer spent years building her reputation while my mom remained a recluse in that house.”

“Oh, I see.” I sensed it was a massive relief for him to talk about it all.

That still didn’t explain the rose. It being early in our romance, I didn’t want to go there again. Not unless he brought it up. Last time we’d gone there, he’d left me and I had been forced to fly an ocean to get back to him. Truthfully, I wouldn’t have flown to New York without him as an antidote to the dreaded flying experience.

“Do you ever stay up at that place? The one where you grew up?”

He was vehement. “No, never. I always thought I’d sell it, but something’s stopping me. Sentimentality, I guess.”

“Hmm, it must be a double-edged sword… sell the home and lose all that’s left of her, or keep it and be reminded.”

He bowed his head and looked away, out of the window. “There’s something I’ve not told you.”

My pulse started racing and I clutched my throat. “What is it?”

I tried to be brave, but it was the way he was looking away, like what he had to say was terrible—perhaps might even ruin us.

He kept staring into the distance while he revealed, “I’m really NOT gay.”

Oh my god, is that it
? “I thought you were going to say something dreadful for a moment there!”

His eyes smiled. “Like what?”

“I don’t know…”

“Um,” was all he said, his face now a full-on smile. He began kissing my throat and I flung my head back.

“I feel happy. Please don’t scare me again.” My chest filled with love for him, brimmed with it.

“Sorry.”

“Cai, just you holding me like this is so perfect it hurts.”

“Let’s just cuddle, then,” he insisted, bringing us both down to the bed, side by side. We got comfy, staring at one another.

He knew there was something else. “Say what you’re thinking.”

My lip twisted and I said as gently as possible, “I’m no expert, Cai. I admit. But those pieces in your studio should be shown to the world. Why are they hidden? I saw your gallery and none of them are as good as those in there. You should be a star. You have a great talent!”

I smoothed my hands over his face and he kissed my palms, smiling shyly. “They are for me and you, now. I don’t want those to be public. You know…” he grimaced, taking a moment to find his words, “…I harbour a lot of pain, in here.”

He pointed to his heart. “I’ve seen what wasted talent can do to someone… what being told you’re great can turn someone into… especially if they never fulfil that promise. I don’t wanna chance that. I get enough joy from these without anyone else’s approval.”

“I just see something that should be shared, though. Even if you don’t put
your
name to it.”

He kissed me briefly, reassuring me, “They come from pain, Chloe. I don’t want those out there for the vultures. They’re mine. If you want, they can be yours too.”

I smiled into his eyes and swooned. I couldn’t argue with that. “That is the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

We’d been officially lovers for less than 24 hours and yet, time seemed to stand still while we enjoyed those precious first encounters. It felt as if I had known him forever. He pulled me tight into his arms and growled with relief, breathing heavily against my body while we hid in each other.