Page 76

Everything between us was always such a battle of wills, a test of wits. The nights we’d spent together had made me forget that as perfectly as our bodies aligned, the rest of us was at war.
My gaze fell on a low porcelain table sitting by the tub, holding every kind of toiletry I might need. My heart softened at the sight of it. They hadn’t been there yesterday. He could have had me make do with the male toiletries but instead he’d gone to the trouble of making sure I had my own things.
He watched me as I reached for the shampoo bottle. I didn’t recognise the brand but it looked expensive. My store-brand hair was going to be in heaven. I squirted more than I needed into my hand and massaged it into my scalp.
He took a breath. It was tense and uncertain, like he wasn’t as sure of his ability to win me over as he once was. “What is it going to take to fix this? More jewellery for you to throw away?” His eyes followed a trail of shampoo as it snaked its way over my shoulder and down my right breast.
“Apologise,” I said, shocking him back into the moment. His eyes narrowed at me but I didn’t back down. “Your controlling bullshit is a problem, Alfie. I thought I could ignore it until you left and this was over, but I can’t. Not when you’re pulling stunts like that in front of people I care about. Apologise and promise you’ll never do anything like that again.”
“I can’t.” He lifted his chin at me and, despite how angry I was, I had to admire his honesty. He didn’t lie or try to placate me just to get out of the argument. I took the shower head out ofits holder and Alfie watched in silence as I rinsed the suds from my hair.
By the time I was done, there was a crease between Alfie’s brows. “I didn’t like seeing you like that, Lola.”
“I was just a little tipsy.”
“It—” He clamped his mouth shut as if he didn’t want to let the words free. “It’s a problem for me.”
I hugged my knees to my chest, looking at him. What was I missing here? There was a secret behind his eyes and if I had any hope of understanding him, I needed to know what it was. “Why?”
“People are reckless when they’re drunk,” he said, looking me dead in the eye. “You should know that better than anyone.” My stomach twisted at his words.
“More manipulation, Alfie? Using the death of my mother to make me feel guilty for having a drink with a friend? That’s pathetic.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” I asked, but his face had shut down again, becoming unreadable once more. I gritted my teeth in frustration. “I’m really trying, Alfie, but I’m not psychic. You have to give me something. What happened to you?” His cold, steel gaze threw up a bigno trespassingsign in my face.
Silence stretched on for what felt like an age before I finally gave in.
Exhaustion hit me in a wave and I felt so much like crying. He was so horribly far away from me and I hated it. Why wouldn’t he talk to me? Why did he need to control me all the time? I wanted to push him for answers, but I knew it was pointless. I felt the closeness we’d shared over the last week shattering in a thousand pieces. I caved and picked up the conditioner bottle from the basket, and held it out to him.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said and I shrugged.
“Me neither.” I didn’t know what to do, about anything. The least he could do was figure out how to wash my hair. He reached for the bottle as if it might bite and then took it as if I might snatch it away.
I turned in the tub until I was between his thighs, my back to him.
His movements were slow, slightly awkward, pausing at times, unsure what to do next. He’d never washed a woman’s hair before and the knowledge comforted me. I sighed as he began to massage my scalp.
He rinsed my hair out, taking his time until it was a thick, silken mass down my back.
When he was finished, he eased me backwards until I was leaning against his chest. His heart was hammering against me as if it was about to burst free. I peeked up at him but he showed no sign of feeling anything, his usual aloof expression in place. I turned my head to listen to his heart and if it was possible it got faster, louder. He was hiding so much from me.
His fingers begin to massage my shoulders, moving in small, slow circles, working out the tension. It felt incredible. His hands drifted, his fingertips tracing over my arms and dancing over the skin of my stomach before moving upwards and cupping my breasts. He trapped my nipples and gave them a tug.
“Don’t,” I whispered and his hands froze in place. I couldn’t do this. Not now. I was too lost.
“Are you refusing me?”
“Yes.” I brushed his hands away and stood up, climbing out of the tub and taking care not to slip on the floor.
“Why?” He followed me, tracking my steps to the towel rack. I pulled off a fluffy towel and wrapped myself in it before grabbing another and wrapping it around my wet hair.
“Because of everything that’s happened tonight.”
“But we just fixed all that.”
“No, we didn’t. You didn’t apologise for your behaviour or explain it. You shut me out as usual and I…I just need to think. It’s late. I want to go to sleep.” I turned to the mirror and he watched in cold silence as I brushed my teeth. I bent and rinsed out my mouth, feeling him behind me as I straightened.