The Lover's Children novel Chapter 80

GEORGIE

Is he ever going to make love to me?

This beautiful man, Borje, who took me in his arms and kissed me like no man has kissed me before. The Prince of some dream or fairy-tale.

He strolls beside me, casual, elegant. So handsome. And he smiles.

He smiles for me.

When he looks at me, his face lightens, his lips curve and the smile softens his eyes.

But still, he barely touches me.

Why?

Does he really want me?

Or not?

That kiss, that one, precious kiss, convinced me. Left me spinning, breathless and with no doubts.

And yet, since then, there has been no more than a touch of his fingers on mine, or a light brush of his lips over my cheek.

*****

“Borje, am I doing something wrong?”

His forehead furrows. “I don’t think so. Why would you ask?”

“I thought perhaps I had offended you in some way?”

His head swings, his silver hair ruffling a little. “No.” He turns to face me. “What’s bothering you, Georgie?”

“I… want you to touch me. To make love to me.”

His head tilts, something warm behind his eyes. “I would prefer to make love with you.”

Heat washes up my cheeks. “I’d like that too,” I whisper.

He looks down. Looks up. Meets me full in the face. Smiles again. Traces fingertips along the line of my chin. “Tonight then.”

*****

I've never said the words before.

But I want to say them to you.

I love you.

I want to say it.

To give you the words.

My words

I love you…

I’m in love with you…

But the words freeze on my lips.

Your smile is so soft.

So warm.

You touch my cheek.

Brush your lips over mine.

I love you.

*****

We dine in Borje’s apartment. A pleasant enough environment. A simple meal. Pasta and salad. Wine. Eaten under the gleam of a single candle on the table. Music, some light jazz I don’t recognise, drifts from a speaker set in a corner of the room.

And I can’t think of a single thing to say.

Borje too, it seems to me, chooses not to speak. Instead, his gaze holds mine for long seconds before I drop my eyes to my plate, only to find, as I raise them once more, that he still watches me.

Eventually, he speaks. “Why are you so nervous, Georgie?”

Am I nervous?

How had I not noticed?