Eternally North (Eternally North 1)

He blushed slightly and ran his hand through his long blonde hair. I shook his outstretched hand and, laughing, went to make my excuses when Tink came barrelling over, oblivious to Gage’s presence.

“Wilbur, Wilbur! Guess wh–," he whipped his head to Gage, hand on his chest, stumbling back, “… be still my beating heart. Who is this Californian beauty in a pea-coat?”

I observed Gage, who was looking down at his jacket and smirking.

I elbowed Tink in his ribs. “This is one of my students’ brothers, Gage.”

Tink shook his outstretched hand, squeaked out a “Hi, I’m Tink,” and then looked at me in shock. “Not another brother of a student? Since when did schools become more successful at hook-ups than dodgy street corners?”

I took in a calming breath, how embarrassing! Gage simply looked confused.

I turned to my mortifying bestie. “What did you want, Tink? I’m working right now.” I knew he would get the ‘bugger off’ tone in my voice.

“You certainly are working it, aren’t you, girlfriend? Anyway, I came to tell you that my Pookie is taking me away tomorrow to Vancouver, a little g*y-day-getaway! Apparently the scene is booming there. I’ll be gone for five days, how great is that?” He shimmied his shoulders on the spot and whooped, popping his bum.

I love Tink, theatrics included, but there really is a time and a place!

“That’s great. Will I see you at home tonight, or in the morning before you go?”

“Yep, probably the morning. I need to get my beauty sleep! I’m going now to pack. Great show, ham roll. I’ll catch you later, alligator!” he air-kissed both sides of my face and body-rolled away.

As Tink ran off, or more like split-leapt away with perfect dance fingers on his extended arms, I faced Gage again. “Sorry about that, he’s my best friend and a bit… different.” Hell different? Let's say it how it is – he's off his f**king tits!

Gage burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but join in. It was nice to laugh after days of fluctuating between episodes of depression and spontaneous crying.

“Listen, sorry to keep you, I understand that you’re busy. Erm… look, I'll get to it. I know this may sound a bit forward seeing as though we’ve only just officially met, but how would you feel about getting a coffee sometime? Maybe this weekend if you're free?”

Wow, I wasn’t expecting that!

At that moment, Tudor’s face popped into my head. I shut my eyes tightly to erase the image. We are nothing.

“Ms. Munro, are you okay?” Gage was holding my elbow seeming concerned at my sudden change in behaviour.

I immediately opened them again. I was starting to get a headache. “Yeah, sorry, and call me Tash or Natasha. Erm…Where was I...? Yeah, what the hell, coffee would be nice.”

He released a nervous breath. He seemed nice, completely different to Tudor: easy-going, happy, cheerful, slim but athletic, not ridiculously muscly and he seemed free of any visible tattoos. Not a bad boy! Coffee with Gage may be exactly what the doctor ordered; a nice and friendly, normal, everyday guy.

“Can I have your number?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I took his mobile, entered my digits and almost dropped it when I heard a huge crash coming from somewhere nearby, but looking around I couldn’t tell where. Probably just some of the props falling off their hooks.

I held out my hand. “Until the weekend, Gage.”

He shook my hand, and held on for a second too long. “Until the weekend.”

He turned to walk away and I picked my glass back up, readying myself for another parent mingling marathon.

“Natasha?”

“Mmm?” I swung around to Gage.

“By the way, love the accent! I have a thing for Brits. Too much watching Julie Andrews movies when I was younger!” he winked.

I laughed and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. He disappeared through the crowd, and I couldn’t help watching him go. Maybe my luck was improving after all.

I was about to step back into the fray when movement from the left of me caught my attention. The side door at the back of the hall opened wide, an arm grabbed the top of mine and I was pulled into the dark unused corridor, the door shutting tightly behind me, blocking off the guests in the hall.

What the…???

I was pushed against the hard cement wall, and looked up to find Tudor braced in front of me, encasing me in the cage of his arms and breathing heavily against my skin.

My palms and back were flat against the wall, my face mere inches from his. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them a second later, intense emerald-green irises boring into mine.

He lowered his right arm and I felt a ghost of a touch on my hip. I gasped at the sensation. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even think to form a sentence.

What the hell was happening?

Without breaking eye contact, he trailed his fingers up the side of my dress, past my stomach which tightened in response, over my ribs and finally past the edge of my breast, both of us holding in our breath. He continued up to my throat. I tried to speak, to ask what was happening. I opened my mouth and his finger lay across my lips, silencing me in advance.

His hands reached down, taking hold of mine, our fingers clasping and he raised my arms over my head, restraining me from moving. His lips brushed over my forehead, my cheeks and then moved down to my neck.

I let out a moan, it felt too good. “Tudor, God… what… uhh…!” I whispered.