39

I lay on my side, tense and wary, and listened for any indication that he was awake. The monotonous, regular breathing and slight nasal whistle signalled Cole was in a state of blissful slumber. It really pissed me off how men could fall asleep at the drop of a hat after sex, while we women lay wide awake, minds enlivened, going over everything from shopping lists to recriminations. Mine worked on the latter.

What the hell had I been thinking, sleeping with Cole? I had answered my own question really – thinking was precisely what I hadn’t been doing.

My eyes studied Cole’s bulky outline in the semi-darkness. They traced a line from the curve of his head to the fall of his neck, the sharp rise of muscular shoulder to the gentle falling away of his back. It was a silhouette that oozed solidity and an earthiness that in a strange way felt strong and safe at some primeval level.

I released a sigh and risked an examination of my motives. Put in blunt terms, I’d just screwed my ex’s best friend. Lockie had hurt me terribly last night, then left Cole to pick up the pieces. End result? Well, here we were.

Was Cole my Lockie substitute? Was I trying to make him jealous? Surely, I wasn’t shallow and manipulative enough to do that. I couldn’t have turned into that hated and spiteful creature – the vindictive ex.

Cole let out a small snuffling snort and I smiled despite myself. I certainly had an affection for him. I’d always been curious about him, with his undeniable physicality teamed with an endearing reserve. He had a manner and an economy of speech which was common among Kiwi heartland men. It did not reflect a lack of imagination or brainpower, rather the self-assurance brought about by being one in a line of generations who made a life on this land. Perhaps we’d had sex simply because I needed him and he was there. He wasn’t an unwitting participant in my game of tit for tat. I’d screwed him, but I hadn’t screwed him over. He wasn’t Mr Charisma. He might only be a good, solid kind of a man, but what was wrong with that?

I smiled. It felt as if I’d passed some important self-diagnostic. I leaned forwards, kissed him gently between his shoulder blades, and at last went to sleep.

I woke to the sound and movement of Cole getting up. The early-morning light crept in around the edges of the drapes. We kissed goodbye, parting with the awkwardness of people who didn’t know what to say or what was to come next, if anything.

I stayed on in bed, nursing my headache and contemplating the night’s unexpected turn of events. I replayed it all, over and over. I was, in the end, surprised to find that I seemed to be in a much better place, emotionally speaking. My assignation with Cole hadn’t messed up my head the way I’d expected. If anything, I felt more centred and calm. Would I see him again? I didn’t need to decide that here and now. And it certainly wasn’t the kind of decision to be made before coffee.

I could hear Maggie clanking around in the kitchen and hollered out my regular refrain. ‘Need coffee, bring it to me, please, ta, please.’ I seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Her morning-shamble-haired head poked around the corner of my door. ‘Was that who I think it was skulking out of here at some ungodly hour?’

‘Maybe, and he wasn’t skulking, thank you.’

‘Ha, I told you you liked him!’ Maggie’s glee was obvious.

‘Oh, what a load of crap.’

‘Oh, so you don’t like him, but slept with him anyway. What a nice girl you turned out to be.’ A school-ma’am look was plastered across her face.

‘If I wasn’t so lazy, I’d get up and kick you.’

‘That’s kind of what I was counting on,’ she said, and smiled. ‘But really, what happened? I thought you were just going out for a drink.’

‘Yeah, well, so did I. But it was all your fault, anyway. If you hadn’t abandoned me and gone off gallivanting around the countryside, if you’d been at home where you belonged, none of this would have happened.’ All I’d needed was some company. As it turned out, I had got a whole lot more than that.

‘Oh, I forgot, I’m not allowed a social life. News flash for Sam Shephard: I’m not going to hang around home on the off chance you have a dud date and an early night. I’m not your bloody mother. Anyway, you’re not the only one who gets offers from eligible young men,’ she said, and waggled her eyebrows up and down. ‘And, I’ve seen the way Cole looks at you, and you flirt back. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.’

I did my scoffing indignation act. I did not flirt; flirting was for teenagers.

Maggie pressed on with her point. ‘I think something would have happened whether I was here or not. I’m just glad I wasn’t here to hear it.’ I threw my pillow across the room at her. Its aerodynamics left much to be desired, as did its effect as a deterrent. Maggie laughed, picked it up off the floor and flung it back.

My reflexes were a bit off and I caught it with my face.

‘See, the truth hurts, doesn’t it?’

‘You’re lucky I didn’t throw the alarm clock. I could hit you square between the eyes, ya know.’

‘And I can catch, ya know. But after seeing your astonishing skills there, I think I would be quite safe.’ She had a point.

‘You’ll keep, girl, but you definitely owe me coffee for mortally hurting my feeling.’

‘Feeling?’

‘Yeah, feeling. I’m only capable of one, and right now it involves caffeine.’

My attempt to distract attention from my nocturnal visitor with humour was failing badly. Maggie gave me the look that signalled a lecture was headed my way.

‘Seriously though. Are you sure you know what you’re doing with Cole?’

I pulled the sheet up over my head.

‘No,’ I said, feeling like that angst and hormone-challenged teenager. ‘That’s part of the charm.’