I promise, but his face drops, “what’s wrong?” I ask concerned.
“If it’s what I think it is” he begins, looking me up and down suggestively, “then I’m afraid I have bad news. The doctor said that you are not to partake in any…. ‘strenuous activity’ for the next couple of days.” He puts it diplomatically.
I look at him quizzically, surely that can’t be right. But his somber nod confirms it.
“Well that sucks” I proclaim.
“That it does”
We spend the rest of the day lazing about at his place, he called his parents, they are due back early evening so can take over the running of the resort then; by all accounts they completely understand why he will be out of action, work wise, for the next few days, to look after me.
I spend a lot of time insisting it is unnecessary, but he still won’t let me out of his sight.
If I’m completely honest, I love the attention and it’s a great excuse to spend every second with Carlos. We lay out in the sun, on the patio, kissing. We float about in the swimming pool he has, kissing. We put together an early dinner, with a miss match of bits he has in, kissing every time we pass in the kitchen.
A couple of times I have let myself get caught up in the moment, pushing deeper into the kiss and running my hands through his hair, just baiting him to take advantage; but he holds firm, pulling away, shaking his head tutting and giving me a smack on the bottom as he walks away, leaving me to sulk.
If I stand up too fast, or turn my head quickly, it throbs badly for a couple of minutes, but past that I feel ok. Most of the bruises from the bike crash three days ago are starting to fade, the grazes healing up nicely too, all things considered, I’m not in too bad a state.
Even if I don’t manage to break him tonight, I’m sure I will by tomorrow, every time I try it on, it’s a fraction longer before he pushes me away, it’s cruel to tease him like that, but it’s cruel of him to withhold sex from me, when I have insisted I’m feeling fine.
At 19.00 I suggest going to the bar, Carlos gives me an entirely unimpressed look, “Oh come on grandpa! No Dancing, or drinking I swear, it will just be a quiet evening, listening to music, please?” I want to prove to him that I’m not made of glass.
“Fine, but just an hour alright?”
“Alright” I say rolling my eyes at him, but skipping off towards ‘our’ bedroom to get changed.
I go for a smart, casual look, with skinny jeans, killer heels and a black jumper with a little sequin details on the shoulder. I brush my hair and tie it back, leaving some strands loose at the front that I smooth across my forehead, hoping to cover the plaster there.
I finish the look with a little mascara, drawing attention to my eyes and away from the corner of white plaster still clearly visible and I’m good to go.
Standing up I’m hit with a wave of nausea, the room sways around me, I reach out and steady myself on the wall and wait for it to subside.
“Kate? Are you ready?” Carlos shouts from downstairs.
“Yeah, I’m just coming”
I manage to get to the top of the stairs, my legs are shaking, but with my hand on the wall I’m balanced enough to make it down them.
As I reach the bottom it’s like the whole house is spinning around me and my legs go to jelly, collapsing from under me. Carlos leaps in and catches me before I hit the floor. “Kate!” for a moment I loose my vision, but it returns gradually, “I’m OK” I manage to say back.
“Will you stop saying that! You are clearly not 'OK'!”
I try to stand, but my legs have other ideas, dropping me straight back down, “alright, I’m not OK” I admit.
Carlos bends down scooping me into his arms and deposits me on the black couch, “I’ll get you some water. Stay there!” he is irritated by my stubborn nature.
“Thanks, I’m sorry” I say sheepishly, handing me the water he softens slightly, “You don’t have to be sorry, just admit you’re not 100% better and stop making things worse for yourself” he pleads placing his hand on my head to check my temperature; I reach up and wrap my fingers around his,