Fifteen minutes turn into an hour, and I am woken up by Taylor shaking me gently. “Yo, sleepyhead, time to rise and shine.” “Bugger off, Taylor, it is the middle of the night,” I mumble before coming to my senses and realising it is actually only six in the evening. “Argh, sorry, was just having a nap. Give me five and then I’ll be ready to head out.” Taylor looks at me with concern in his eyes. “If you are too tired, Abs, we can stay in and veg, and I’ll order us something in.” “No, no. I’d love to go out. Let me just pull something on and do something with my hair. We’re not going anywhere too fancy, are we?” With Taylor, I never know where we will end up given that he seems to supply half the Michelin-starred restaurants around and is forever being invited to dine in them to try their dishes. Amazing, I know, but sometimes you just fancy slobbing around in your jeans and a jumper. As if he has read my mind, Taylor grins. “Nah, I have booked us in at that burger place down at th
My churning stomach has me up and running for the bathroom before I have even had a chance to wake up fully. Several minutes later I am spent so crawl back into bed shaking, waiting for the nausea to subside. Taylor has already left for the breakfast meeting he mentioned yesterday, so I luxuriate in having the bed to myself. Following Taylor’s first unorthodox proposal, we have barely spent a night apart. To start with, it was simply so he didn’t have to drive back to London after our ‘dates’ as he began his campaign to woo me back, and then it became a given as neither of us wanted to sleep alone. But since that awful night in Taylor’s apartment, sleep is all we do. Neither of us is quite ready to bring sex back into the equation despite the fact that we are both becoming hornier than hell. The look in his eyes that night terrified me, and I don’t know what I would do if I ever saw it again. So, by some unspoken agreement, we kiss and we cuddle. But that is as far as it goes for n
I am sat in this chic little hairdressing salon round the back of Carnaby Street, having a mild panic attack as George, my mum’s darling hairdresser, chops hunks of my hair off, all the while tutting in faux prima-donna fashion. I know for a fact George is straight as a die, but I guess this little act draws in the ladies, and I can see from the expressions on the other faces that they love it. My mum has her nose stuck in her e-book as she sits under some weird lamps, waiting for her colour to take, oblivious to everything going on around her. I, on the other hand, have started emitting rather alarming squeaks each time another of my locks is butchered. Trust them, George and my mum said as they babbled on in some sort of pseudo-fashionista speak that I tuned out politely after the first couple of minutes. Okay, deep breaths. Eventually, I simply close my eyes in the hope that if I keep them closed long enough, this might turn out to be a dream. I finally open my eyes when I feel m
I am sitting in the bar with my spiced apple cooler when I notice Taylor arrive. He looks around for me and I can see him getting slightly agitated, so when his gaze heads my way again, I lift my arm and wave gently. I am a little gratified by the shock that lights his face followed by a wolfish grin. Taylor strides over and, without a word, pulls me to my feet before kissing me passionately. I push him away gently, worried about making a scene, and Taylor steps back, his eyes caressing every inch of me. Leaning into my ear, Taylor whispers, “If we weren’t in public, I would have to fuck you right here right now. And I am not sure I can even hold off that long.” I giggle, a blush rising on my cheeks. “You like?” I ask softly. My panties are wet with arousal, and I really wish we were somewhere else right now. “Hell yeah. You are like a sexy siren from a dream. Who are you and what have you done with Abby?” he asks. I decide to play a little game and counter, “She was a bit boring,
I wake disorientated. My last memory is of falling asleep on the couch, yet I am in a bed, tucked up into Taylor’s arms. I wriggle a little, trying to free myself so that I can go to the bathroom, my morning sickness making itself known. Taylor rolls over, freeing me, so I bolt to the bathroom just in time. As I glance around, I see everything is still where I left it, so I grab my toothbrush, grateful that I can freshen up my mouth. I pad back into the bedroom softly, not wanting to wake Taylor. It is still dark, so we have a little while before I have to head back to Brighton to start work. I look around the room that I know so well and realise something is bugging me; something is different and I just can’t put my finger on it. “It’s the bed. It’s new.” Taylor’s voice startles me, and I glance across to see him holding open the duvet for me to get back into bed. As I snuggle into his chest, I listen as Taylor starts to talk. “After that night I just couldn’t bear to sleep in her
I am heading up the stairs to my flat, my arms full, as dusk is falling when I hear Taylor arguing with someone. Thinking that he is on the phone, I head straight to the kitchen to deposit the cinnamon buns that I have prepped for the morning in the fridge. When I hear the voice of Nicola, Taylor’s sister, raised as well, I stop in my stride. “What the hell, Taylor, I thought you and Abby were back together?” Nicola shouts. The question halts me in my tracks, and I stay put, waiting to hear what is coming next. “We are back together, Stix. I don’t get why you have stormed in here and started yelling at me.” I can hear the confusion in Taylor’s voice, and I am right there with him. “Then why are you cheating on her?” What the fuck? My hands clench into fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. “Seriously, I have no idea what you are going on about. There is no way in hell I would cheat on Abby and you know that!” Taylor is practically yelling at his baby sister, and I can only im
My head is pounding from the effects of the sedative when I finally manage to open my eyes. Taylor’s chocolate brown eyes stare intensely at me, a frown furrowing his brow. I smile weakly at him, but even that small movement sends pain shooting through my skull, forcing a grimace across my face. Taylor silently hands me some cool water and a couple of painkillers, which I take gratefully before flopping onto my back with my eyes closed. “These should kick in soon and then hopefully you will feel a bit better. David said you would probably wake up with a killer headache…” Taylor trails off and I can tell he wants to discuss last night, but I know I am just not ready to confront today’s big issue. I don’t reply, so he places a light kiss on my cheek before adding, “I need to go out for a bit, but I’ll be back for lunch with your parents later.” “Okay,” I answer in a hoarse whisper. “I’ll see you a bit later, then.” I know I should ask where he is going, but knowing Taylor, if he want
Taylor is gone when I wake, but I roll over to find a note on my pillow, promising to let me know everything when he gets home. I find myself worrying about Nicola, worrying about Taylor and, finally, worrying about my little Bean. Knowing that Richard knows about my pregnancy sends a shiver down my spine. I know I stood up to him previously at Genevieve’s party and told him that he didn’t scare me, but when I found out how Richard’s threats to Taylor caused the downfall of our relationship, the fear of him returned. His obsession with Taylor—and that is what it has all boiled down to—means that he doesn’t want anyone to replace him in his brother’s life. He has already made it perfectly clear how he feels about me, and I am just terrified that his reaction to a baby would be even fiercer. After all, he abused Nicola as a baby too. I finally force myself out of bed, grateful that the morning sickness seems to be absent for a change. I find my mind wandering all morning as I bake, wo