‘Go to sleep,’ Luke yawned, looking majorly cute to Ruby’s way of thinking. ‘I’ve got to get up early to start painting the lobby tomorrow morning.’
But as he flung off the duvet, she grasped his arm. ‘Why don’t you stay here tonight,’ she murmured sleepily, her gaze snagging on the broad expanse of her lover’s back as he glanced over his shoulder. ‘You could get started sooner.’
‘Do you really think that’s a good idea?’ Luke asked.
‘Absolutely,’ she said, ignoring the wary tone. ‘It’s silly, you going back to your house every night.’
She saw him hesitate.
‘You sure?’ he said as he slung an arm around her and sunk back into the pillows.
‘It’s no biggie,’ she made herself say as she gazed up at his profile from her favourite spot snuggling against his shoulder. The spring rain outside, chiming against the fire escape, only made the moment feel more intimate. And special. ‘And it’s raining.’
It really wasn’t a biggie, she told herself staunchly, it made sense for him to stay.
In the past nine days, ever since their walk back from the ’Bello had triggered a whole new phase in their friendship – which Ruby had secretly titled the shag-like-rabbits phase – he’d got into the habit of appearing on her fire escape after the final screening each night. After making fast furious love, they would eat whatever they could rustle up from the usually meagre supplies in her fridge and then settle in for more sex – after which Ruby had been unable to prevent herself from nodding off in his arms.
Because being madly in lust, she’d discovered, was actually quite exhausting. She’d had more orgasms in the last week than she’d had in her entire life – vibrator dates included. But when she’d woken up again, he was always gone. The bed beside her empty.
Tonight she’d managed to keep her eyes open while lounging against Luke’s naked body, the musty smell of sex mixing with the scent of the grilled cheese sandwiches he’d made for their midnight feast while she basked in the sudden, delicious detour her life had taken – and waited for him to sneak out, so she could ask him to stay.
As he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead – something he did every night before she went to sleep – arousal pulsed.
‘It’s tempting,’ he said, around a jaw-busting yawn, as he played absently with her hair.
She resisted the urge to purr. She adored it when Luke played with her hair, twirling the curls round his fingers, testing the texture, as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching her. When had anyone ever been this into her? Maybe it was only on a physical level, but she still found the attention intoxicating.
‘But I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality,’ Luke continued.
Ruby tried to concentrate on what he was saying, instead of the feel of his thigh brushing against her hip, or the resilient thud of his heartbeat against her ear.
Chillax Rubes. You’re both too knackered for another shag-athon, anyway.
‘But I love it when you take advantage of my hospitality,’ Ruby teased, determined to keep things light and non-committal, the way they needed to be.
She ran her fingers through the three hairs growing around Luke’s belly button – hairs she’d become quite attached to in the last nine days – concentrating on why she wanted him to stay. This wasn’t about intimacy, it was just about comfort. And practicalities. It made no sense for him to head out now, in the rain, when he could sleep here.
‘And anyway the least I owe you is a warm bed on a rainy night,’ she added.
Hadn’t he ridden to the rescue of the theatre, turned up every single day on schedule and worked his arse off for no reward for close to a month? And wasn’t he the best lover she’d ever had, his imagination and enthusiasm in bed only outstripped by his generosity? She suspected – from the few things Luke had told her about his childhood – he’d had so much responsibility in his life, he didn’t want to add anyone else to the list. And being indebted to her, would add her to the list, because Luke always paid his dues. But she wanted him to know that didn’t apply here because he’d already paid any dues to her a hundred times over.
‘How do you figure that?’ Luke asked. His hand stopped stroking her hair. ‘I hope you’re not referring to the work I’ve done on the theatre.’
‘Well, yes, that and …’ She sent him what she hoped was a slutty smile. ‘Your services to my sex life.’
His eyebrows shot up, but then he laughed. A deep, rumbling laugh that relaxed his face and only made him more sexy.
His foot brushed hers and his hand trapped her fingers against his belly button. ‘Who knew British girls were so naughty.’
His six-pack rippled as he sunk down to join her under the covers. And something stiff and exciting got trapped against her hip.
‘’Fraid so,’ she said, as his callused palm cupped her naked breast – sending endorphins careering through her system. ‘So are you staying to help me with my sex addiction?’
‘I guess I am.’
He captured her pouting nipple between his lips. She threaded her fingers into his hair and arched into his mouth, a sob escaping as he went to work.
Her sex addiction was nothing compared to her Luke Devlin addiction, she decided. So it was a good thing she only wanted him for one thing.
***
Luke pressed his face into Ruby’s wild hair and inhaled the scent of her shampoo as her body became soft and pliant in sleep. Heat pooled in his lap, even though he’d just had the third of tonight’s mind-altering orgasms. Her breathing deepened and he forced himself to let her go and roll on to his back before he got any ideas about waking her up for a repeat performance.
He had to brace his elbow against the bedside cabinet to prevent himself from rolling right on to the floor.
He had a deluxe king-size with a firm orthopaedic mattress in the house he was paying a small fortune to rent less than twenty minutes’ walk away from The Royale and as he watched Ruby’s fairy lights flicker over the crack in the ceiling moulding above his head he tried to figure out whether he should take her up on the offer to sleep over. She was right, it was raining and he had to be back here first thing in the morning. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.
But he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that if he stayed the night in Ruby’s bed, it would mean something.
He squinted at the ceiling.
‘Go to sleep man. It’s not a big deal, she said so herself.’
Great, now he was talking to the ceiling.
He scooted closer to Ruby. Why spoil a good thing when they only had a couple more weeks to enjoy it?
The pragmatic thought brought with it a wave of melancholy. Which was just plain wrong. This was a casual hook-up. It had always had a time limit on it.
But as he stared at the rain running in rivulets down the window glass and considered offering to repair the cracked plasterwork on her ceiling, he knew he was lying to himself.
The more time he spent with Ruby, the less time he wanted to spend apart from her. Which was a problem. Because he would be returning to New York sooner rather than later.
He’d gone over his three-hundred-hour community service commitment a couple of days ago. And he’d be finished all the jobs he’d assigned himself by the end of this week.
All he had to complete was the repainting in the lobby area once he’d reinstalled the baseboards. He could string that out for another couple of weeks, but once that was done, The Royale would be all out of jobs to keep him here – give or take the odd cracked ceiling moulding.
Not only that, but he’d received a text from his mom to invite him to the first preview of her one-woman show at the National on Thursday next. She’d begun bombarding him with texts and WhatsApp messages after getting hold of his British cell number from his kid sister. Once his mom hit town, he would have to head back over the Atlantic. Keeping an ocean between them was essential for his mental health right now.
But at least she’d kept her promise not to contact Ruby directly again.
He shuddered. He didn’t even want to think what would happen if his mom ever found out he and Ruby had hooked up.
It made sense to start planning his return Stateside.
But instead of doing that, he’d been thinking of ways to prolong his trip.
What was with that?
This hook-up wasn’t serious. They’d even been careful to keep their activities on the downlow so none of The Royale’s staff would figure out they were boning each other after hours.
He huffed out a breath.
Although from the side-eyes Jacie kept giving him, he wasn’t so sure everyone had been fooled by their no-touching-kissing-or-generally-undressing-each-other-with-their-eyes-during-working-hours rule.
But despite keeping things determinedly casual, what should have been simple and uncomplicated became tougher and more confusing each day he worked side-by-side with Ruby, and each night he crept up the fire escape to make love in her cramped queen bed with the trampoline mattress. And then held her as she fell asleep.
Staying over would only increase his confusion.
Perhaps it was just that he’d developed an affection for The Royale. In the space of a month, ever since he’d first started work on the dilapidated old theatre, he’d become addicted to ripping out the crumbling plaster and rotten woodwork, repairing, re-plastering and repainting. To doing all those odd jobs he figured had been waiting for years. He’d started to join in the staff chatter, learned how to thread an old 35mm projector from Errol, even cashed up a couple of times when Beryl had been struck low with the flu or Claire, the other cashier, had a childcare emergency.
But the more invested in The Royale he became, the more invested he became in Ruby, too. Because more than his addiction to showing up each day at The Royale was his addiction to Ruby’s lush curves, her wild rose-scented hair, that dimple that popped up on her cheek every time she smiled, the soft sobs of encouragement she gave him when he touched her, and tasted her, the sleepy conversations they had late at night about everything from installing a new motor for the security gate to whether or not to run the rest of the Matty’s Classics season in chronological or alphabetical order.
And the more addicted he became to Ruby and The Royale, the more concerned he became about what would happen to the place and her once he left. He could repair the theatre, give Ruby the orgasms she deserved, but how could he secure her future without becoming a part of it, and prolonging this attachment past its sell-by date?
A clean break was the only way to go, but the more he thought about making that break, the less he wanted to.
Listening to Ruby’s gentle snores in the darkness, and the patter of rain on the window casing, he forced himself to switch off his thoughts, and leave figuring out the Ruby conundrum to another night.
Stretching, he snagged the cord for the lights and switched them off too.