A Summer With Snow (Frosted Seasons #1) Page 7

  “That’s close enough,” she snaps, pushing the palm of her hand in front of my mouth. “I know your motives; I know why you’ve come here. You think buying me a house is going to get me into bed? Well, Snow, you’re very wrong, because it’s not.”

  “A house and flowers!” I laugh aloud, thinking she’ll join me, but her response is to frown and her lips don’t even crease into a smile.

  She stands poker-faced, yet still looks so damn sexy. Pushing past me, she walks into the lounge. I close the front door behind me and follow her. My head is telling me to turn around and run away, but that’s not me. I’m in a place I’ve never been before, and I can’t impress her with my money, my wit or my charm.

  “Hooper,” I call as my eyes dart to meet him, expecting him to run in at any moment.

  “He’s not here.”

  “Where is he then?”

  She walks into the square bay and places her hands on the window ledge, looking out into the moonlit gardens.

  “He’s in Cambridge, has been for the last couple of weeks.”

  “Oh?” The tone of my voice prompts her to continue.

  “It’s not good; the vets are almost sure he has a brain tumour. He’s had every test going, and I should know something definite tomorrow.”

  I don’t hear any emotion in her voice, and lost for words, I make my way towards the window. Standing behind her, I place my hands on the tops of her arms.

  “Darcy…” I whisper into her ear.

  I feel her stiffen and edge away.

  “Snow, don’t.” Her words cut me dead. “If I don’t talk about him, then it’s not real.”

  “Darcy, the money I’ve got can buy him the best treatment out there. Tell me what you want and I’ll write the cheque here and now.”

  Though her body fights against me, I spin her round to face me. Black streams of mascara run down her face, her eyes swimming with tears.

  “Let’s wait and see what the verdict is tomorrow.”

  I decipher her words through the cracks in her voice. My first instinct is to wrap my arms around her so we become one, allowing me to halve her pain. I want to hold her head between my hands, look into the depths of her eyes and assure her everything will be okay. But my thoughts have allowed the moment to pass; I left it just that little too long. She has seated herself on the settee and sips from the fluted glass she holds to her lips. I watch her place it down on the table and take in the pretty pink imprint left by her lips.

  “I think someone could do with cheering up. Why don’t you go and wipe that shit off your face? I’ve booked us a table at a classy Italian restaurant, so let’s say we make a night of it and we’ll deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.”

  “Food and a fancy restaurant just isn’t going to cut it for me. A load of toffs in their cardboard suits sipping champagne? Tonight I want fucking beer out of a bottle.” The raw emotion in her voice is clear.

  Her eyes spell it out as she looks me up and down.

  “Just look at yourself, Snow, look what you’ve become.” I see her eyes dart towards a family portrait. “I hardly recognise you, it’s like you’re someone else. Your designer suit, your perfectly tied tie and your immaculately polished shoes; it’s all bullshit, you’re bullshit. Tonight, Snow, I want real. I’m going to the paint party to get smashed out of my face. Come if you want, I don’t care either way.”

  What she says hits a nerve. I flick open the grey buttons on my jacket, pull it off, fold it carefully and lay it across the back of the settee. Removing my gold cufflinks, I put them in my trouser pocket, undo the small white buttons at my wrist and push my shirt sleeves up so that they rest above my elbows. The cushion dips beneath me as I sit on the settee at Darcy’s side. My eyes move across the row of face paints laid out on the coffee table; I pick a bright yellow and hold it towards her in the palm of my hands.

  “Guess you’re coming then,” she says, passing me a brief smile.

  The blaring music is intolerable as I stand propped against the bar. Thursday night is students’ night; it’s advertised on large posters plastered over the walls. I question if they’re actually university students, since they’re acting more like fucking school kids, jumping up and down as jets of cool steam shoot from the ceiling. Staff members stand partially dressed, positioned around the club on podiums pumping bright neon paint into the crowd of dancers.

  I glance down at my pristine shirt and ten-thousand-dollar suit. I dodge every paint-covered clubber as they push forward, calling out to be served. I search for Darcy through the students and see her only feet away from me. I watch the way her body moves. My eyes wander around the immense dance floor, half-blinded by strobes of light, but my attention returns to Darcy. A group of blokes supping from bottles are staring at her ass; like sharks they are moving closer. I weave my way towards her, pushing people out of my way, and grab her arm from behind.

  “Come on, Darc, let’s get out of here.”

  She pulls her arm from my hand.

  “Don’t think so!” she shouts in my ear.

  “I can’t leave you here alone!” I yell.

  “You can. Bye.” She cuts me dead.

  “No, Darc, come on.” I pull at the straps of her top. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Guzzling at a bottle of cider, she laughs in my face and the liquid runs from her mouth, dribbling down her chin.

  “Get a drink, Snow, and lighten up!”

  “God damn it, look round you, look at them, they’re a load of fucking idiots.”

  “Well, that makes me one too!” she shouts back, and grabs at my hand, pulling me to the middle of the dance floor.

  Suddenly, I can’t see anything. My face is splattered in cold liquid, and as I run my right hand down my face and open my eyes, it drips off my lashes. I blink, but all I see is bright neon orange. When my vision finally clears, Darcy’s holding my hands, laughing at me. I frown; this is not funny, but her laughter’s infectious, and suddenly I’m laughing too and pulling her into my chest. This is the ice-breaker I’ve been waiting for. I take my chance and lean down towards her; our faces are so close. I grab the back of her head and push my face and lips against hers. Her lips part and I thrust my tongue inside, like I intend on thrusting my cock inside her, but that’s for later when I get her home. The music pounds its way into my head, my trousers tighten, I close my eyes.

  Still laughing, our lips pressed together, I turn my key in the front door. Tripping over each other’s legs, we stumble into the hallway. Surrounded by darkness and only visible to one another by the spots of neon paint, I feel my way down to her thighs, slide my arms beneath her ass and lift her. Unsteadily I feel my way from step to step as I climb the stairs, not losing the warm breath of her lips for a second. On reaching the landing I don’t set her feet on the floor but carry her to the far end and through the bedroom door. Her damn light… My eyes shoot to the bedside table to a new but similar crock lamp. Clamping her tightly against me, I lean over to reach for the switch and turn it off. I have hands to feel her, I have a mouth to taste her, but when I lay her on the bed and slide next to her I want darkness; I don’t want to see what my senses can see on their own. Her lips slide from my mouth and settle against my cheek.

  “No, leave it,” she whispers.

  With my arms supporting her back, I lower her onto the covers. I can see her almond-shaped eyes staring up into mine as I crawl over to join her and lie at her side. Any tension in her body has gone, and she relaxes into my hands. I slip down her strappy top, massaging the soft skin of her breasts, circling my fingers around her pointed nipples. I move further down, allowing my chin to rest between her cleavage. My tongue takes over and I lap at her curves, her perfumed flesh. I hear small groans slip from between her lips as the tempo of her breathing increases; I can feel her excitement, and my own as my cock stirs beneath my boxers in readiness. With my teeth I ruche up her top so that the white cotton material lies above her waistline. Curving my lips to the left, I pass her nav
el, nibbling my way down to the line of her panties; it’s only the metal button on her shorts that holds me back.

  “No, Snow, don’t.”

  I feel the flat of her hand pushing against my forehead, pushing me away.

  “You’re telling me you don’t like it?”

  I glance up at her without moving my head.

  “Well, if it’s like that, why don’t you take me in your mouth, Darcy? I’m hard … feel.”

  I take her hand and push it down to my throbbing cock. She rips her wrist from between my fingers.

  “Snow, it’s probably best you leave.”

  I frown. “Darc, what’s wrong? It’s not like you haven’t done it before. What about your other boyfriends?” I enquire as I stroke the curve of her waist and on down her leg.

  Every time my eyes meet hers, I watch her look away. I can’t understand why she’s trying to avoid me while we lie here so close.

  “I’m sorry, Snow, I think I’ve had too much to drink. Please leave, go downstairs and sleep on the sofa, or in your old room if you like.”

  My hand falls from her leg and onto the quilt as she sits up, leaving me with only her back to admire. She readjusts her top, straightening her straps so they rest in straight lines over her shoulders. Her hands bury themselves into the quilt. I reach for her fingers, but it’s as if my touch shocks her as she jerks away.

  Again I ask her, “What’s wrong?”

  “There weren’t any, okay…”

  I frown again as a pause falls between us. Her head seems to lean on one side as she tilts her face, enabling me to see her through the shadows.

  “There never was anyone else; I never brought a boy home. Yeah, I had an occasional boyfriend, but as for that, it never happened.”

  “So you’re telling me you’ve never been down on anyone?”

  She doesn’t answer, but shakes her head.

  “The funeral…”

  “Yes,” she butts in, “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “So…” But she doesn’t allow me to finish my sentence.

  “Yes, Snow, it was my first time, I was a virgin.”

  Oh shit. I’ve never fucked a virgin before. This woman never fails to surprise me. It’s not very often that I’m lost for words, but as I look at her I feel almost humbled by her innocence, while at the same time entranced by her perfection. I can’t believe at twenty-two I’m all she’s ever known.

  “My first time, my dreams, you shattered them all by throwing money at me like I was no more than a common hooker.”

  I crawl down the bed and sit at her side.

  “You got me wrong; the ten thousand pounds was to cover the funeral costs.”

  “Ten thousand?” she blurts out.

  “Yes, ten thousand. There was a note explaining everything I wanted you to do with the money. Didn’t you open the envelope? Didn’t you read it?”

  She shakes her head. “Why would I after the things you said?”

  “Do you really think I meant it?”

  She offers me no reply.

  “I got the little sister thing stuck in my head and panicked. Us together didn’t sit right, it felt like I’d taken advantage.”

  “It was me that asked you to make love to me, so how was that taking advantage?”

  Not knowing what to do with my hands, I scratch the back of my neck.

  “I think between us we’re doing a good job of fucking this up.”

  “There is no this, no us… All you want to do is fuck, but it’s unfortunate, Snow, that I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “It wouldn’t be that way with us; you need to relax, let me show you.”

  I reach my hand across her chest and place my thumb and forefinger on her chin. Slowly I turn her head towards me.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing out on. Sex can be so much fun, especially when you’re with someone who knows what they’re doing. Fulfilment between two people is like a rollercoaster ride; it’s fast, all-consuming, then it’s over.”

  Although she is looking at me, her face is like a blank page and she sits in silence. If shaking her would make her understand, I would take her between my hands and do just that.

  “Darcy, if sex makes you feel that awkward, then for one night pretend you’re not you. You’re an actress playing a role, and I am your lover. Sometimes pretence makes life so much more fun. Maybe one day you’ll let me show you.”

  “But, Snow, that’s not me, I can’t pretend; I can’t be what I’m not and I can’t be what you want me to be.”

  My mind works overtime as I try to work out what she wants to hear. I let the tone of my voice soften, and also my touch on her chin.

  “Tell me honestly that you didn’t enjoy it when I made love to you.”

  She doesn’t shake her head, so I assume she did. I opt for a slightly more playful approach.

  “Well then, what say we try it my way? Go on, Darc, undress, lay back on the bed and open your legs for me; I’ve got something hard, something waiting here that wants to fuck you.”

  My erection is bulging in my boxers for release.

  “God, if only it were that easy, Snow,” she whispers. “Some people are just better at hiding their scars than others.”

  I can only wonder what she knows about me as I hear the ambiguity in her words. It appears she awaits my reaction, but I sit silently in thought, unable to decipher what she means.

  “Darcy, tell me what’s wrong, just not in riddles.”

  My heart races as I await her reply. She stares at me with a vacant expression.

  “If only I could forget, if only I could wipe what I saw from my mind, but I can’t. It’s something that’s haunted me for over ten years.”

  My hand slips from her face.

  “Every night after Mum … my real mum put me to bed I would lie with the covers pulled over my head, waiting for the doorbell to ring; which it always did without fail. Mum told me to stay in my room, and said that her special friends were coming to visit her.”

  She pauses.

  “Go on,” I prompt.

  “Snow, the things I heard are things no child should ever have to hear… But one night, the sounds were different. Deep voices shouting came from next room, and then I heard Mum’s screams; she was begging them to stop. Grabbing Lucy, my rag doll, I held her tightly against me as I slid out of bed, and tiptoed barefoot across the landing. As quietly as I could I turned the knob and pushed open her bedroom door, and through the tiniest of cracks I peered inside.”

  The mattress rises as Darcy gets up from the bed and stands with her back towards me.

  “I was only six years old, and that’s the day my childhood ended.”

  God, things are starting to make sense. With a wry smile I glance over at the small bedside lamp that lifts us out of the darkness.

  Snow, you fucking idiot. My fists tighten into balls at my side. The first time she lets anyone in, the first time she has sex, and I throw money at her. I knew what it was for, but it left her feeling like a common whore.

  I clear my throat, and in a low voice ask, “What then?”

  “I guess the neighbours heard, and the police were called. Social services got involved and I was taken into care. I never saw my mum at Christmas, she never turned up to the supervised visits … I never saw her again. When I turned eighteen I tried to find her, but was told she’d taken a drug overdose and died on the streets several years earlier.”

  I can’t help thinking that in her own way she’s as fucked up as me, and what she said was true; guess some people really do wear their scars better than others. I lean forward on the bed, pulling her towards me by the waistband of her shorts.

  “No, Snow, get off me.”

  She takes a step forwards, but I pull her back. She spins round, hitting out at my face; grabbing her above the elbows I pull her into my chest, encasing her in my arms.

  “Get off me!” she yells.

  “It’s okay, Darc, it’s okay.”

&nb
sp; The harder she fights, the tighter my hold on her becomes. After only moments I feel her tenseness dissolve and her yells become sobs. I reach up, softly stroking my hand down the back of her hair in the same way I remember my mother doing to me as a boy when I was upset… But that’s Snow’s story and locked away. There are so many facets to my life, ones I’m not prepared to share.

  Still holding her against me, we’re almost as one as I lower us back onto the bed. This is foreign territory I enter, for never in my life have I held a woman the way I’m holding Darcy now. I have this overriding feeling that takes over my head, telling me I want to protect her, keep her safe. Suddenly, my heart hurts, for it is something Snow was unable to do for Summer. But this isn’t a sisterly love I feel for Darcy; I can’t place what I feel. I glance down onto her soft forehead, my eyes following the bridge of her nose, and it suddenly dawns on me that I can’t imagine my life without her in it; yet what chance do two people as broken and as lost as we are really have?

  It’s strange how moments can turn into hours without you realising, and it’s amazing how long our arms stayed wrapped around one another without either of us wanting to pull away. I look down at her as she lifts her head from my chest, and we hold each other in a long drawn-out stare. I smile at the multicoloured paint on her face. Seeing a half-empty glass on the table beside us, I stretch my arm towards it and dip my finger into the water. I lift myself from her, allowing her head to fall lightly onto the pillow behind. I draw my wet fingers down from her forehead, smudging the shades as I try to rub the paint away. But as I wipe away her painted mask, I see a woman beneath, a beautiful woman whose eyes have settled on me… At the end of the day she’s still a woman, and every woman I have every loved, who has ever meant anything to me, has just caused me pain. Faces from my past flash into my head… Is it only a matter of time before I kiss Darcy goodbye and she becomes no more than a memory? Then, like so many times before, I will forget her, pick myself up and start my life over.