Grease Monkey Jive (27 page)

“No.” No way. No way in hell.

“Please.”

“Alex, something really upset you. At least I know it can’t be me or you wouldn’t be here,” he stopped mid-pour. “It’s not me, is it?”

“No, it’s not you. But I’m embarrassed about it now. I woke you up in the middle of the night and you’ve made me tea and I’ve been a silly little fool.”

“That was real crying, Alex, not just ‘I’m a little tired and emotional’ crying. I know the difference. Something happened to you and I’m not letting you leave here until I know you’re ok.”

“I’m ok.”

“You’re going to cry again any minute.”

“No, I won’t,” she said, but her voice shook and she had to draw her lips together hard to stop them trembling.

Dan reached across the table and put his hand over hers. “What could be so bad about telling me?”

Alex tucked her head down and started to cry again, her shoulders shuddering, her breath hitching, her hands squeezed tightly into balls of hurt.

He came around the table and pulled a chair out, turned it adjacent to hers, and sat. Then he grabbed the leg of her chair and dragged it round to face him, leaned into her, and drew her forward, until her knees kissed his and she tucked her head into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and held still.

“You cry as long as you need, baby,” he said, into her tangle of hair. Jeff sighed as though he’d like a good cry too and crawled into the triangle between their joined knees and parted feet.

In time, the tension in Alex’s body drained and she relaxed, her muffled sobs slowed and stopped, and she lifted her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t, you’ll only start again.” He used the pad of his finger to gently wipe her wet cheek.

“Don’t, you’ll start me again.”

“Ok, sorry. Tea is cold, will I make another pot?”

“No. I should go. This is so wrong of me to be here.”

“We had a deal remember? You’re not going anywhere yet.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” She had her eyes down on her hands. She looked completely shattered, almost wilted in the old green vinyl chair.

“You really need to sleep, don’t you?”

Alex nodded and the tears started to build behind her eyes again.

“Are you expected anywhere?”

She shook her head, didn’t trust herself to speak. Where was the dickhead boyfriend when she needed him?

“Bedroom is there.” He pointed to the open doorway. “Bathroom is there, use whatever you need. I’ll get you a fresh towel and a t-shirt to sleep in.”

Alex looked up. “In your bed?”

“Yeah, I can crash on the couch.” He watched her face crumple. “Don’t start again, baby. You’ll make yourself sick.” Ah, where did that ‘baby’ come from, slipped out, twice now, he hadn’t meant it. It was the word he used when he couldn’t remember a woman’s name, and he’d never forget Alex’s, it was branded on his brain the moment he met her.

He pulled her upright and took her hand, led her to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh towel from the linen press and a blue t-shirt from the pile of clean laundry in a basket on the floor, and shut her inside.

In Dan’s original 1930’s bathroom with its pedestal green basin and tiny multicoloured tiles, Alex started crying again. Everything was wrong about being here, about telling him anything. Dan was being so kind. She’d never even treated him all that nicely, all those mixed signals, all that straight talk about what was and wasn’t acceptable to her. She’d just about told him he wasn’t good enough for her, so she didn’t deserve this. It upset her all over again.

She did deserve every lesson her mother was going to serve up with vitriol on her tongue and retribution in her eyes when she found out what Phil had done. What Alex had been stupid enough to let him do. But thinking about Dan’s kindness, she pulled herself together. It was some awful time in the morning and she’d been crying all over him and he’d just given up his bed for her. She washed her face, borrowed his toothbrush, and put his big blue shirt on over her underwear. She was so tired, if she could maybe just lie down for an hour or two it would be ok, she’d be able to face the world again.

Jeff met her in the kitchen an expectant look on his doggy face and a wary wag in his tail. Dan was nowhere to be seen. She called for him and he came out of the bedroom with a pillow in his hand.

She looked so cute in his shirt, the sleeves hanging down around her elbows, the hem scraping her knees. He’d stuck a t-shirt on too, he should have done that earlier, but she’d been in his arms, crying on his chest the whole time. He gave her a gentle smile and stood back to usher her into the bedroom.

This was a first. A woman in his home, about to be in his bed, one whom he’d neither invited or expected and wasn’t going to fuck.

“Fresh sheets. Sleep as long as you want in the morning. I’m not going anywhere.” He’d planned to hit the surf before work, but he’d give that up in a flash to have breakfast with her. “Call out if you need anything. I’m in the next room.”

Alex stood in the doorway of Dan’s bedroom. The king size slat bed was made with fresh white sheets and a light cotton weave blanket. There was a yellow and blue long board propped against an old wooden wardrobe and a tall boy belonging to the same era as the tiles in the bathroom and the kitchen table. The surfaces and walls were clean and bare except for a stack of books in the corner. The floor was the same honey colour as the hallway and kitchen and he’d lit a tea light under some fragrant oil – lavender – and turned a bedside light on.

The clean t-shirt, the remade bed, the almost clinically tidy room, the lavender, his courtesy and care for her were enough to make Alex tear up again. This from a man she’d labelled a player. So unexpected. So confusing. If she hadn’t suspected he’d care, why had she come here? She turned to watch Dan spread another sheet over the couch in the lounge room. It was at best a two-and-a-half seater. He’d have to sleep curled up like a cashew.

“You can’t sleep there.”

“Sure I can.”

“No, you can’t. I can fit on the couch better than you can.”

He sat and arranged his pillow on the couch arm, it fell off and he looked at her and laughed. “It is going to be interesting.” Then he pointed back to the bedroom and said quite sternly, “Go.”

Alex nodded, choked out a raw thank you, and left him before she started blubbering again. In Dan’s bedroom she pulled back the cotton blanket and turned out the bedside light. This felt odd, being in Dan’s bed. Him outside. Him being such a gentleman. The whimpering at the closed door was just part of the oddness.

“Jeff, come away. Sorry Alex,” said Dan, outside the door. “He wants to come in with you.”

She sat up and turned the bedside light back on. “He can come in, Dan.”

“Are you sure?” Dan cracked the door open, but held Jeff by the collar. “He usually sleeps under the bed.”

“Yes, it’s fine.” She couldn’t put the man and his dog out of their beds.

The door swung wider and the brown dog trotted in, a happy waggle to his backside. He went straight under the bed and they heard the thump as he hit the floor.

Dan had his head poked around the doorway to make sure Jeff didn’t do something stupid like jump on the bed. He met Alex’s eyes. “Sleep well.” He went to pull the door closed. She looked so lonely in his big bed, he wanted to climb in beside her and hold her, but that was such a stupendously dumb idea.

“Don’t go, Dan.”

Her broken request was a stinging whip crack to his restraint. “Ah, yeah, I should. You need to sleep.”

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out there.”

“I can’t be in here with you.”

“It’s a big bed. You held me when I cried. You gave me lavender. I trust you.”

“Ah,” he hesitated. What to say, what to do? The couch wasn’t going to work, but neither was being in bed with Alex. But she said she trusted him. And she could. He was not going to mess with this woman. She was his teacher, his partner, and – maybe if he was lucky – his friend. Yeah, he could do this. He could go to bed with a beautiful, sad woman and not do anything with her except sleep. Wondering what Fluke would say about that almost made him laugh.

“Ok, if you’re sure. Half a night on that couch might have ended my career as your partner anyway.” He disappeared to fetch his pillow, giving her enough time to change her mind.

When he came into the room proper, Alex met his gaze easily and flicked back the covers so he saw an expanse of slender thigh before he climbed in beside her. This was a test and, fuck it, he was going to pass. From under the bed Jeff gave a whine of contentment.

So not to tempt fate and a big fat epic fail, he turned on his side facing away from Alex and snuggled down on his pillow. “Night, Alex. Try and sleep, baby.” Shit, there was that word again, but he meant it kindly. He rushed on to say, “It’ll seem a whole lot better in the morning,” hoping she’d focus on the last part of the sentence, not the slimy endearment.

She said, “Thank you, Dan,” and her voice was a cut up whisper that made him clench his teeth to hear it. Yeah, he could do this. She was hurt and lost and confused and if he wanted her as a friend, then this is what being her friend meant.

It was hours later when he woke. Light was beginning to seep into the room through the venetian blinds. Alex was sitting on the edge of the bed away from him, head down, her long swoosh of hair lose and fanning over her back. She wasn’t crying, but she was awake and obviously distressed. He scooted across and swung around to sit beside her, blinking at the neon time, five-sixteen, way too early. “Can’t sleep?”

“I’m sorry. I should go, leave you in peace.”

“Have you slept at all?”

“No. I just keep thinking about how stupid I am. How I deserve it.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

There was a long pause and a deep sigh. “I’ve left Phil. He was two-timing me.”

“He has another girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“A current, alive and kicking girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Shit!”

“How did you find out?”

“It occurred to me to ask and he didn’t lie.”

“Shit!”

Alex exhaled deep and some of the tension left her body, and when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, she didn’t resist. She came willingly, laying her head on his shoulder. He said, “Bastard,” and there was venom rumbling in his voice that made her flinch, made him check himself. He stroked her arm. “How long were you together?”

“Two years.” Her voice broke and the tears started again. “I’m such a dummy. He spent a lot of time travelling. He used to cancel things at short notice, often worked late and at odd hours over the weekend. I trusted him. I never thought to question him. I just never thought.”

“Alex, don’t cry. That bastard isn’t worth your tears. Get mad, girl. That’s what Scott would say, right? Get mad, don’t stay hurt. Don’t let this get to you.”

Dan ducked his head down to see her face. Her expression told him this was too soon for a pep talk. “Ah, Alex,” he bit his tongue to stop another ‘baby’ slipping out, then pulled her back into the bed proper and lay back, patting his chest, offering her a hug that she willingly took up, laying herself by his side and resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and rocked her gently.

Eventually she relaxed in his arms, her breathing steadied, and her eyes drifted downwards, but Dan’s thoughts were a chaotic jumble, one minute focused on finding Phil and making him pay for what he’d done to Alex, the next lost in the mystery of having her in his bed, being able to hold her, breathe the sultry spicy perfume of her warm skin and pretend she’d run to him instead of away from Phil.

When Dan woke again, he was alone, the clock glowed seven, and the space beside him was still warm. He could hear clattering in the kitchen and, given Jeff had yet to show any talents with a fry pan, he figured he was getting a home-cooked breakfast this morning, courtesy of his surprise overnight guest. He got out of bed with a joy he knew he’d need to temper.

“Morning,” he said from the bedroom doorway, still in what he’d worn to bed. He knew he looked rumpled, his hair a scribbled mess, stubble decorating his face, but she turned and smiled at him all the same.

“Morning yourself. How do you like your eggs?”

“Anyway you want to serve them. I’m just happy I had some.”

“You had bacon too.”

“There is a God.”

“Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, but I’ll do it.”

“No, please let me. It’s the least I can do to make up for last night.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Alex shook her head and filled the kettle. She knew that staying to make Dan breakfast had been the right thing to do despite her embarrassment. She was glad she’d dressed properly too. It was time to get over the tears and tantrums and the wholly uncomfortable fact she’d shown up here in such a state, slept in Dan’s bed, and, worse, lay in his arms, enraptured by his steady heart beat and fantasised about what it would be like to make love with him.

“I want to know if there’s anything I can do to help,” he said, his voice morning husky.

“You’ve done enough, Dan, truly. I wasn’t in my right mind last night. I don’t really understand why I came here. It was unfair to you. We haven’t even known each other that long and we agreed on the ground rules and then I come barging in here in the middle of the night crying everywhere.”

“Alex, it’s fine. A bit of a surprise, sure, but hey, I got to have a sexy girl in my bed and a cooked breakfast.”

Alex turned away, but not before Dan saw the look in her eyes, resignation and disappointment. The sexy girl line was just what she’d be worried about this morning, that he’d make last night into something crass. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

“It’s ok.”

“It’s not. I haven’t had much practice at this being supportive with a girl friend thing before.”

“What?”

“I don’t mean girlfriend, I mean girl and friend, two separate words.” He came around the table and stood beside her at the sink. “You are a friend, right? And all you needed last night was for me to be a friend, right?”