he mused, roaming his hand languidly up the side of her thigh.
She tried to pull her shirt down hoping he’d take the hint that she wasn’t interested and opened the first page of the newspaper. “Tim, my head’s thumping,” she lied, and then, probably for the first time ever, she could feel her insides flinch at the touch of his hand - she actually felt quite turned off by him.
His dark thick hair flopped over his eyebrow. He ran his hand through it then pulled himself up onto his elbow, resting his head on his hand, looking down at her. “You’ve had hangovers before and it’s never stopped you?” he appealed.
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to this morning, OK?”
He sat up further, grunted and raised an eyebrow then glared at her. “I suppose this is because of last night?”
She shrugged her shoulders in reply and shook the paper irritably. She was being childish and she knew it but suddenly she felt weary of the same situation. And so very tired of always being the one to give in and make things better.
“Look, it’s like I told you,” he said munching into a piece of toast. “I just couldn’t walk away and leave them to it now, could I?”
Oh here we go, she thought, he sounded so blasé as though it meant absolutely nothing to him. Wearily she said, “Not now, Tim. I can’t face another argument. I just want to have breakfast in peace.”
He wrapped one leg over her and ran a hand lightly over her breast. “But there’s no need to argue,” he crooned. “And we can talk at the same time.”
Tweaking her nipple between his fingers, he said, “Sure I can’t tempt you?” Involuntarily she recoiled and stiffened at his touch. His eyes widened with surprise and she could tell by his slight gasp of breath that it had shocked him. The cocky, self-assured smile left his face and was replaced by a deep scowl. He stared hard and questioningly at her while she could tell he was trying to digest what had just happened.
At last, she thought avoiding his probing eyes and feeling pleased that her refusal had eventually had some kind of reaction. Turning away from him she spread the newspaper out on the bed.
“OK. Please your bloody self,” he uttered angrily and chucking back the duvet he climbed out of bed and strode into the bathroom.
Since the day she’d met him they’d only ever had a couple of what she’d call tiffs, not arguments, and he’d been huffy for a few minutes and then got over himself but this time she wasn’t too sure what would happen. His mum had told her how he’d always been huffy when he was a little boy if he didn’t get his own way and Katie had avoided situations since then that would allow him to stop speaking.
But, she thought truculently, he wasn’t a little boy now and she had to stop giving in to him just to keep the peace. Huffiness however, wasn’t in her nature and she remembered during her childhood how her father had decreed he wouldn’t tolerate her or her two brothers not speaking to each other. If there was an argument it was sorted out and forgiven and forgotten.
She heard the shower burst into life in the bathroom and she snuggled further under the quilt wondering how to turn the situation around so they could talk in a calm and rational manner about last night. Maybe she should start by asking him exactly what had happened in the restaurant and why he couldn’t have put her first for once. But suddenly he came back into the bedroom and pulled on jogger bottoms and tugged his running vest out of the drawer.
“Tim…” she said quietly, but he didn’t answer and left the room. The only sound she heard was the slam of the front door.
Oh well, maybe a good run will help his mood she thought looking around the room and smiling with pleasure at the sun shining through the white voile drapes – it seemed to dance off the lime green duvet. The walls were painted in soft pastel colours and with a thick white carpet it was both relaxing and, as her mum had put it, very easy on the eye. She knew she would never tire of the colour scheme they’d chosen.
The telephone ringing interrupted her thoughts and she smiled as she heard Tim’s mum, Lynne, on the line. Quickly, Lynne told