He's the One (3 page)

That was until Zara wandered into the room and made a slightly unsteady bee-line for Cory. She was very drunk. Ignoring Liberty she flopped down on the sofa next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Cory darling, will you take me home now?’

He looked less than impressed. ‘I can call you a taxi. I’m not going yet and I’m not taking you home.’

Zara raised her head and squinted at Liberty. She herself was not looking quite so glossy and immaculate now. Her mascara had smudged, her hair was tousled and she was having difficulty focusing.

‘Oh, it’s your waitress girl. You are
so
predictable.’

‘Her name’s Liberty,’ Cory muttered, sounding annoyed.

Zara didn’t bother to say hello.

‘And the week before, what was that other girl
called? Tash something? And the week before that?’ She leaned forward to speak to Liberty. ‘The point is, Waitress Girl, you’re not so special. Cory is always doing this. He’ll have forgotten who you are by tomorrow.’

‘Go away, Zara, you’re drunk. Again. It’s becoming boring.’ There was a hard edge to his voice.

On the verge of tears, she exclaimed, ‘Why do you keep doing this to me? Cory, please …’

‘You’re doing it to yourself.’

For a second Zara remained where she was, as if she couldn’t believe that Cory wasn’t going to give in to her. When it became apparent that he was not, she gave a strangled sob and rushed out of the room, colliding with another guest as she did and causing them to spill their drink.

‘Just a friend?’ Liberty commented, feeling angry. Had she fallen for some smooth act from Cory after all? Was she just his Waitress Girl for one night only? She had thought he was genuine. God, she was easily taken in. So out of practice that she fell for the first good-looking guy who took any interest in her.

‘Just a friend now,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m sorry. She’s off her face … doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s all bullshit. I don’t want to be with her, and she can’t handle it. I know I might have seemed harsh with her, but it’s time she moved on.’

‘You’re being cruel to be kind, are you?’ For a fleeting second Liberty felt some sympathy for Zara. She knew what it felt like when someone didn’t want you any more. ‘I should probably go now,’ she said.

He stood up. ‘Let’s get out of here – I can see that Zara has upset you. How about coming to my flat for a drink? It’s up the road from here.’ He held out his hand to her.

For a moment Liberty hesitated. Would it just be for
a drink? Did she want it to be anything else? The fact was she was enjoying herself more than she had done in such a long time, she wasn’t ready for the night to end, even if Cory turned out to be a player …

‘Please, forget about what Zara said.’

Liberty took his hand and again thought, Why not?

Outside she shivered in the cool breeze coming off the sea. Instantly Cory slipped off his jacket and put it round her shoulders. It was warm with the heat from his body. She loved the gentlemanly gesture, and thought then of Luke, who wouldn’t have noticed if she’d been turning blue from hypothermia.

They didn’t have far to walk – thank God, as Em’s shoes were crippling. Cory was renting a first-floor flat on an elegant crescent overlooking the sea.

‘How come you can afford to live here?’ asked Liberty as they walked up the wide staircase leading to his front door. It didn’t exactly seem the kind of flat a student could normally afford.

He shrugged. ‘My parents are paying for it.’ He seemed slightly embarrassed to admit it.

Inside it was beautiful, all high ceilings and full-length windows, but phenomenally messy. There were paint brushes, tubes of oil paint, half-empty coffee mugs and wineglasses on every available surface in the living room. CDs were scattered across the floor, and canvases stacked haphazardly against the entire length of one wall. Clearly Cory was not a fan of cleaning.

‘Sorry, I would have tidied up if I’d known you were coming. I’m usually much tidier than this,’ he said, sweeping a pile of newspapers and magazines off the sofa and on to the floor. Liberty had a feeling that he wasn’t – maybe he was too used to people tidying up after him …

He opened a bottle of white wine and poured her a glass, and switched the stereo on. Massive Attack’s ‘Teardrop’ pumped out. It felt as if he was setting the scene. Maybe he had done all this the other week with Tash or whatever her name was. Still wearing his jacket, Liberty slipped off her heels and walked around the room, taking it all in, biding her time. She paused in front of a huge painting of a man playing the saxophone. The colours were so vibrant that they seemed to bounce off the canvas and it had an energy that drew her in, so that it felt as if she was there in the picture. Liberty knew absolutely nothing about art but to her Cory’s work seemed very impressive.

‘This is great,’ she told him.

He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure it works.’ He seemed reluctant to talk more about it. She remembered how Luke used to boast at any opportunity about what a good actor he was.

‘Well, for what it’s worth coming from me, it’s obvious you’re really talented.’

‘I don’t think I am, but thanks anyway. So, are you going to come and sit down?’

The nerves, the sense of anticipation, returned as Liberty sat down next to him on the sofa. She was so out of practice at flirting, completely rusty. She didn’t know what to do with her hands or her legs, crossing them then uncrossing them, fiddling with her hair, picking her wineglass up and taking a sip, putting it down again, and all the while wondering what was going to happen next … She babbled away with a funny story about how she and Em had dyed their hair red for Comic Relief … except Em used permanent dye and it had cost a fortune afterwards to get themselves sorted out at the hairdresser’s.

‘You’d look beautiful whatever colour your hair was,’ Cory said. And, moving closer, lightly kissed her. Liberty felt her heart beating so hard, she was surprised he couldn’t hear it. She shivered with longing at the feeling of his lips against hers. At first she was shy and self-conscious. Could she even remember how to kiss properly after so long? He would think she was useless … But at the feel of his mouth on hers, and the probing of his tongue, desire overtook her and she kissed him back.

He trailed his fingertips along the side of her neck; she slipped her hand under the back of his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin, longing to feel more. They lay back on the sofa. His hands were on her waist, her breasts. She wanted him so badly her legs turned liquid, and she felt a burning need throbbing between them … his body was solid against hers … she didn’t want this to stop. She tugged at his t-shirt longing to feel his skin against hers. He peeled it off in one fluid motion then unzipped her dress, pausing to gaze at her as she lay there before him.

‘God, you’re even more beautiful like this,’ he murmured, unfastening her bra and kissing her breasts, sucking her nipples until she could feel herself melting at his touch, and burning, and when his fingers reached between her legs, she almost came, it was so intense. She gasped as his caresses quickened, building up whirls of exquisite pleasure within her. She unfastened his jeans, longing to feel him inside her. His cock was ready, perfect. He paused for a moment, and she groaned.

‘Sorry, I just need to …’ He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a condom. For a moment she was shocked that she hadn’t even thought of it. But then she grabbed it from him, tore the wrapper open
and rolled it down his long, hard length. She couldn’t wait any longer. ‘Now. Hurry,’ she gasped.

He plunged into her, and their kisses became harder, deeper, as they fell into a rhythm, and she was going to come and it was breathtaking, dizzying, mind-blowing, and then an orgasm was rippling through her and he was reaching his own climax and arching his back, holding her tightly as he came, burying his face against her shoulder.

There was a moment when they held each other tightly, hardly able to believe the intensity of what they had shared. Then he looked up at her. ‘That was incredible,’ he murmured

It
was
incredible. She had never slept with someone on the first night she had met them, but with Cory it had felt so completely right. It would have felt wrong not to.

They lay together, bathed in the soft orange glow of the streetlight outside the window. She didn’t want to go, she wanted to stay with him, feel his skin against hers. She felt blissed out, relaxed, and couldn’t even remember when she had last felt like this – or if she had ever felt like this.

He kissed her and said, ‘I’ve got such a good feeling about you, Liberty.’

‘So will you still remember my name tomorrow?’ she teased. ‘Or will I be that waitress girl you met in Brighton?’

He shook his head. ‘I would never forget you.’

Somehow she believed him. She didn’t think she would ever forget him either.

He made them both cups of tea and thick slices of toast – he had Marmite on his and she had jam on hers and she refused to kiss him afterwards until he had
cleaned his teeth, protesting that she hated the taste of Marmite.

‘I’ll throw it away and never have it again,’ he promised.

They talked some more. She wanted to hear about his travelling: his descriptions of the places he had been; the people he had met. It was all fascinating to her. He couldn’t believe that she had only ever been to Spain and France. And France had only been a day trip to Dieppe with the school, where they had gone round a
supermarché
and watched their teachers stock up on cheese and duty-free wine, then walked aimlessly round the old town in the rain before boarding the ferry back to Newhaven. She felt as if she hadn’t lived compared to Cory.

‘I never seem able to afford to go abroad,’ Liberty told him. As a single mother, foreign holidays had been out of the question so far. She could barely even afford to take time off and go camping for a week. She changed the subject after that.

‘So will you let me draw you now?’ asked Cory, reaching for his sketchpad and a pencil.

‘But I’m such a mess!’ she exclaimed, aware that her make up must have rubbed off, that her hair was cascading wildly over her shoulders, that she was naked except for a white t-shirt of his that she had slipped on.

‘You’re perfect. Except the t-shirt has to go.’ When she didn’t make a move, he added, ‘I dare you.’

Usually she would have felt self-conscious about being completely naked in front of someone, even someone she’d just slept with, but again she had that reckless feeling. Why not?

Holding his gaze, she sat up and slowly pulled off the garment, then lay on the sofa, reclining on her side, propping her head up on one hand.

‘Will this do?’

He nodded and began drawing. She felt as if every part of her was being observed, and instead of feeling awkward as a result, she felt powerful, sexy and desired. He drew with intense concentration for half an hour, without saying a word. Then he closed the sketchpad and threw it on to the floor.

‘Hey, can’t I see the picture?’ Liberty demanded, sitting up and wincing as she rubbed an arm that had gone numb from being too long in the same position.

‘I never show off my work until I’ve finished,’ he replied. ‘It’s a superstition of mine.’

‘But I want to see it!’ Liberty protested. ‘I’ve been lying here for ages! It was so boring. And then I nearly got the giggles because I remembered that scene in
Titanic
when Leo paints Kate Winslet and she’s naked except for a huge blue-diamond necklace.’

‘Poor baby, I’ll make it up to you, though I can’t promise the necklace,’ he teased. And, ducking down, he kissed her lightly on the lips then moved lower to kiss her breasts, her stomach, and came to rest between her legs, teasing her deliciously with his tongue, circling, probing, licking, sending stabs of intense pleasure through her body until she found herself on the brink of yet another earth-shattering orgasm.

When she opened her eyes he was smiling at her. ‘I hope that wasn’t too boring for you.’

‘That was amazing,’ she murmured, sitting up. ‘And there’s only one thing that would make it even better.’ She put her arms round his neck and pulled him towards her.

‘My thoughts exactly,’ he whispered, slipping off his boxers.

It was getting light by the time Liberty carefully
extricated herself from Cory’s embrace. He had fallen asleep and looked adorable stretched out on his side, hair flopping over his forehead. He woke up as she was tiptoeing round the living room, gathering her things. She didn’t feel as if she was doing the walk of shame. Her only regret was that she couldn’t stay.

‘Hey, what are you doing? Let’s go to bed,’ he suggested.

She thought of waking up next to him, seeing those blue eyes and feeling his body entwined with hers. It was so tempting. And impossible.

Liberty shook her head. ‘I have to go. I’ve work today and I need to sleep first or it will be a disaster.’ She quickly got dressed as he called her a taxi. She had spent nearly all her tip money on last night’s and she was usually so careful with every penny. As she was about to leave he once more put his jacket round her shoulders.

‘Won’t you need it?’ she asked.

‘I’ll get it back from you tomorrow … I mean today. You’ll see me tonight when you’ve finished work, won’t you?’

She said yes, even though she had no idea if she would be able to.

Back home she crept into her daughter’s room. Brooke had flung off the duvet and was sleeping on her back, limbs spread out like a starfish. Liberty gently pulled the cover over her and bent down and kissed her forehead.

Chapter 3

‘Mummy, Mummy! Can we go to the park?’

Liberty opened her eyes and saw her daughter just inches away: bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, ready for the day. She felt as if she had only been asleep for five minutes, and her head was pounding from all the champagne and wine she’d drunk. ‘Hi, baby,’ she murmured. ‘Come and give Mummy a cuddle.’ She raised the duvet to let Brooke scoot inside. With any luck her daughter might be persuaded to go back to sleep.

Or not, as Brooke wriggled round, tickling Liberty with her long blonde hair and digging pointy elbows into her every time she turned over. Sleep was clearly not an option. Sighing, Liberty hauled herself out of bed and into the shower. And half an hour later she and Brooke were at the park, and Liberty was trying to wake herself up with a coffee while Brooke fearlessly scaled the climbing frame. It was only half-past nine. Liberty reckoned she’d had about three hours’ sleep. Still, it was worth it …
he
was worth it. Every time she thought about Cory she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. She had forgotten what it felt
like to be so close to someone, to feel a connection. She had told herself that she was perfectly happy, that she didn’t need anyone else. Last night had blown that theory out of the water. She couldn’t wait to see Cory again.