RUST - Chapter 6 - A Polin Fic
Chapter 6 – The Morning After
Colin’s eyes snapped open as his body jerked awake.
For a few disoriented seconds, he lay still, blinking against the brightness flooding the room. Winter light poured through the windows catching dust motes in the air and making him squint as his mind struggled to catch up.
Then awareness rushed in.
Warmth. Softness. Legs tangled with his. Hair tickling his nose. The pleasurable weight of another body pressed close.
Penelope.
The memory of the night before hit all at once. The heat that had ignited between them, the tenderness, the rightness of it all. He shifted and drew her a little closer, fitting himself more securely against her as his already hard body clamoured for more. She murmured something unintelligible in her sleep and wriggled further into him causing him to catch his breath.
His heart gave a little stutter, and he instinctively leaned in to place a kiss on her shoulder, only to catch himself at the last second and jerk back, shocked at how natural the impulse had been. It stunned him how easily he wanted to fall into this intimacy, after all these years of holding everyone at bay.
Last night had shaken loose feelings that were now right there, demanding to be faced whether he was ready to or not.
And that was the problem.
He wasn’t ready.
Not anywhere near ready.
And yet…he also knew that he couldn’t simply ignore what had happened between them.
He grimaced slightly.
His head was a whirl of confusion but his body…his body knew exactly what it wanted.
And it wanted it urgently.
Reluctantly, he forced himself to move away from her. As much as he would enjoy waking her up in the most pleasurable way imaginable, he knew he shouldn’t.
What he should do was get up. Put some distance between them so that he could think properly.
“Colin,” she murmured on a soft sigh, shuffling back against him before falling silent once more.
Bloody hell.
Pinned against the back of the couch, he couldn’t move away again. He closed his eyes for a moment and he willed his body to calm down.
Then he stilled.
Had he heard something outside?
He opened his eyes, a frown gathering at his brow as he raised his head and listened intently.
There it was again. Snow crunching, muffled voices and then, suddenly, a couple of loud, sharp raps on the door.
“Police,” a man called out. “Is anyone in there? We found your car.”
The cocoon of warmth and light shattered all at once as reality came crashing back down around him. Every sense alert now, his arm tightened reflexively around Penelope for the briefest second before he began to move.
“Pen, wake up,” he urged as he propped himself up on an elbow behind her and looked down at her face. When there was no response, he touched her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. “Penelope,” he said, raising his voice a little.
She finally stirred and made a small, questioning sound as she opened her eyes and blinked rapidly against the bright light flooding the room.
“What…?” she murmured groggily.
The knock came again, louder this time, shocking her awake.
Again, the officer called out, and Colin knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer.
“Coming,” he called as he eased himself out from behind her and sat up.
Swinging his legs off the sofa, he drew in a sharp breath when the cold air hit, goosebumps rising along his skin. The room felt frigid now, the fire having burned down long ago. He pulled on his underwear, then reached for his jeans on the floor, grimacing at the stiff, chilled denim as he dragged them up.
Penelope sat up slowly, clutching the duvet to her chest, eyes wide now as understanding dawned. She watched as he fumbled with his t-shirt and jumper, still tangled together from the night before, another couple of sharp thumps sounding against the door as he worked them free.
Swearing quietly under his breath, he finally sorted out his clothing and dragged them over his head.
“Colin?” she ventured self-consciously.
He glanced over at her, relief flickering across his face at seeing her awake. Moving closer, he lowered his voice.
“It’s all right,” he reassured her with a quick smile. “Just stay there, okay?”
She nodded and drew the cover more snugly around herself as he went and answered the door. Opening it slightly, he used his body to block whoever was there from seeing past him into the cottage.
She only half listened to the murmur of voices, her mind racing as her gaze darted around the room. The harsh morning light washed over everything: her abandoned clothes on the floor, the champagne, the snacks…the sight of his discarded pleasure from what they had shared only hours before.
Heat curled low in her stomach at the memory. The way he’d held her. Touched her. The way it had felt to surrender to him so completely, if only for a night.
She closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself.
One night. That was all.
She couldn’t afford to forget that.
She would not be foolish enough to read more into it.
“Penelope?” His voice snapped her out of her internal musing and she looked up to see him standing in front of her, his expression caught somewhere between apology and frustration. “They want me to go with them to the car and show them what happened,” he explained, running a hand through his messy hair. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“Of course,” she replied a little too quickly and shifted as though to stand before thinking better of it.
He hesitated, clearly wanting to say something else. He took a step towards her, then stopped again, indecision written plainly across his face.
“I’m sorry,” he began, “I wish…I wish we had a bit more time.”
Her fingers tightened on the duvet.
“So do I,” she said, though it came out quieter than she intended.
He nodded once, as though bracing himself, then tried again.
“I-I think we should talk. About last night.”
Her heart missed and she automatically shook her head in negation. They absolutely should not. Obviously, that was why he looked so conflicted. She didn’t need to have him spell it out to her. She could save herself the pain of that rejection, at least.
Unable to quite meet his gaze, she raised her hand and quickly blurted out, “No! It’s fine. Really. I know it didn’t mean anything, so you don’t need to worry.”
There was a moment of silence and then he exclaimed sharply, “What?”
The sound of his surprise didn’t even register as she ploughed on, determined to give him no chance to say words she couldn’t unhear, “And I’m not expecting anything from you, Colin. I know how you feel.”
She felt, rather than saw, him stiffen.
“You do?”
His voice had taken on a strangely hoarse quality that had her look at him despite herself. Her stomach dropped. His face was back to the familiar, impassive mask he wore, but his eyes…his eyes told an entirely different story that took her aback.
Confusion, perhaps?
Disappointment?
Or was it hurt?
Before she had a chance to work it out, he blinked, and whatever she’d glimpsed vanished.
“Yes,” she said, though the certainty she’d felt moments earlier wavered. “I do.”
He seemed to retreat further behind his mask of indifference and then glanced towards the door, the unspoken pressure of waiting time stretching between them.
“Right,” he said at last, the word clipped. “Of course.”
He turned away before she could say anything else, bending to retrieve his socks and boots. He pulled them on jerkily, eyes firmly fixed on his hands as an uncomfortable silence stretched between them.
Once done, he reached for his coat then gestured vaguely towards the door.
“I should go,” he muttered, his gaze finally meeting hers again.
“Okay,” she replied with a semblance of a smile.
He hesitated again at the threshold and opened his mouth as if to speak but another knock sounded reminding him of the time and he was gone.
Penelope sat there for a long moment after the door closed, listening to the crunching sound of their footsteps fade.
Only then did she let out a loud groan of mortification.
That had gone…
To be honest, she really had no idea how it had gone. She’d never had an awkward morning after to navigate before. She’d only had one boyfriend. It had been at university when Colin was getting serious with Marina and she’d decided for the umpteenth time that she also needed to move on. He’d been a nice enough chap who had taken her virginity in her dorm room. It had been awkward and unsatisfying and although they’d continued to see one another for a while afterwards, it had never gotten any better.
It had never been anything like it was with Colin.
She gathered the duvet around herself and swung her legs carefully over the side of the sofa, wincing faintly as she stood. The reminder of their passion still very much with her.
She looked around again and sighed. The room was a mess, but she would deal with that later. Right now the cold was starting to get to her and she really needed the toilet.
She picked up her clothes and quickly put them back on before heading to the bathroom.
Once she’d used the facilities, she splashed cold water over her face at the sink, the chill sharp enough to clear the last of the lingering haze. When she straightened, she paused and studied her reflection for a moment longer than necessary.
Did she look any different?
After spending the night with the love of her life, surely she must.
Perhaps her eyes looked a little brighter. Perhaps there was a new awareness in their depths, a softness that hadn’t been there before.
Or perhaps she was simply looking too hard, wanting there to be something. Some small, visible proof that the night had meant as much as it had felt it did.
She let out a quiet breath. Of course there wasn’t.
The only real change had happened on the inside, where her heart now belonged to him more completely than ever.
She turned away from the mirror, unwilling to linger any longer. Whatever she felt, however deeply it ran, it was hers to deal with and she would.
Eventually.
But right now, she had other things that needed to be done, like tidying up.
Back in the sitting room, she moved quickly. The opened bottle of champagne was poured away - she would have to buy another one. Crisp wrappers were gathered and discarded. She dealt deftly with the condom as well, refusing to let herself dwell on it, clearing away the last tangible evidence of the night with hands that were a little unsteady. Piece by piece, the room was returned to something approaching order.
Soon the only thing left to do was to take the duvets back upstairs. She gathered up the one they’d used and lifted it from the sofa. The movement revealed a half-eaten bar of chocolate at one end of the cushions and she realised that Colin must have dropped it when they…she had kissed him.
Penelope let go of the duvet and picked up the bar, intending to take it to the bin and throw it away but she paused for a moment. Before she could think better of it, she broke a piece off and put it into her mouth.
The milk chocolate bloomed instantly, rich and sweet and impossibly smooth as it melted against her tongue.
She closed her eyes. It brought back thoughts of Colin with startling clarity. The warmth of his mouth. The way he had tasted when he kissed her…
Abruptly, she opened her eyes again and shook her head.
No. No. She wouldn’t do this to herself.
It was one night, she reminded herself firmly. Just one.
With that in mind, she crossed the room and dumped the rest of the bar into the bin. Reaching for one of the bottles of water she’d placed on the counter, she twisted the cap and drank deeply, as though she could rinse her mouth clean of the memory as well as the taste.
It didn’t quite work.
Screwing the top back on, she put the bottle down with a thump. Feeling mildly irritated with herself, she headed back into the lounge and gathered up both of the duvets. She took them upstairs and put them back into the cupboard she’d found them in then had a quick look around in the daylight.
The cottage had two decent sized bedrooms that were light and airy. Floral wallpaper adorned the walls and there were odd pieces of furniture dotted about. A wardrobe, a bedside cabinet, a chair. With a bit of work, it could be a lovely place she decided.
She checked the bathroom to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind, then went downstairs to wait for Colin to return.
It was only around ten minutes later that the steady crunch of footsteps sounded outside.
The door opened and Colin stepped in, followed by a blast of cold air. Penelope rose from the couch and he gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement before his gaze swept the room, taking everything in.
Clean couch, clean table…clean floor.
His jaw clenched as a pang of guilt sliced through him.
That should have been his job, not hers.
Annoyed at himself for not having dealt with it the night before, when he finally spoke, it came out harsher than he’d intended.
“There’s a taxi on the way. The police are still outside, they said they’ll wait until it arrives.”
Her face fell at his tone and another stab of guilt followed hard on its heels.
“Of course,” she replied then turned away and walked into the kitchen. Moments later she returned wearing her coat and carrying the bag.
Colin moved before he could overthink it. He might not have been handling this whole situation particularly well so far, but he’d be damned if there weren’t still remnants of a gentleman left in him. He met her halfway, took the bag from her without comment, and went to open the door.
The two policemen greeted her and asked a couple of questions as he shut the door behind them, before they all began the careful walk up the drive. Although the snow had stopped, the road was still treacherous, ice packed hard beneath their feet.
When she slipped slightly, Colin caught her arm to steady her and kept hold of it until they reached the road, his grip firm. Once there, he knew he ought to let her go and yet he didn’t.
And the reason bothered him far more than he cared to admit.
Irritatingly, the one of the officers had taken a distinct shine to Penelope and seemed very determined to make it known. He regaled her with the story of how he’d been the one to radio in and arrange assistance for them, as though it were something he’d done especially for her.
As he listened to the younger man chatter on, Colin’s hand tightened possessively around her arm before he had time to stop himself.
Penelope glanced up at him then, a small crease appearing between her brows, clearly puzzled. The look brought him up short. With a quiet exhale, he loosened his grip and let his hand fall away, schooling his expression back into neutrality.
A moment later, both officers were called aside, their radios crackling. As they stepped away, the younger one cast Penelope a quick, almost sheepish smile.
Colin shifted closer without thinking, a fraction of an inch that spoke louder than any words.
The older officer caught it. His mouth twitched faintly as he clapped his colleague on the shoulder and steered him away.
“We’ve got to go,” he said, turning back briefly. “But your cab shouldn’t be long now.”
Colin relaxed as he watched the men head back to their car leaving him and Penelope alone. He glanced over at her then looked back at the cottage before his gaze drifted to the for-sale sign by the side of the road. He took out his phone and snapped a photograph.
“So I can get in touch with the owners,” he explained in answer to Penelope’s curious look. “Make sure I can pay them for the damage I caused.”
She nodded, then looked away and they slid into silence.
Colin clenched his jaw in aggravation. He hated this. There had never been a time that he’d felt such a distance between him and Penelope. Not even when everything had blown up with Marina and he’d shut himself off from the rest of the world. She’d baked him his favourite biscuits and simply sat with him in the quiet, not pressing, not demanding explanations, just there.
She had always known how to reach him without forcing him to open doors he wasn’t ready to walk through. Had always been a place of ease. Of friendship.
And now, standing beside her in the cold, wrapped in this strange, brittle silence, it felt as though he’d somehow broken that. As though he’d taken the one thing that had always been simple between them and made it complicated.
It sat badly with him.
He shifted his weight and shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, wishing he could think of something, anything, to say just to smooth the tension. But the right words refused to come, tangled up as they were with thoughts he hadn’t yet sorted through himself.
So he stayed silent, and the distance between them stretched a little wider.
Thankfully, their cab arrived a few minutes later, cautiously crawling along the still-icy road.
Colin opened her door first. She brushed past him as she climbed in and he shut it firmly behind her, determinedly ignoring the little shiver of awareness her closeness had caused.
The driver acknowledged them briefly as they settled into the back, then Colin leaned forward.
“Could you stop by the car just up ahead here, please?” he requested as they pulled away. “I need to grab our luggage.”
The cabbie nodded and pulled up a few minutes later. The Range Rover looked worse in the daylight and Colin heard Penelope draw in a sharp breath at the state of it. There was now a large POLICE AWARE sticker slapped on the rear window and the angle of the incline seemed steeper than what they’d actually climbed.
Colin got out, bracing himself against the bitter chill once more. The brief respite of warmth in the taxi made it feel even colder. He popped the boot, grabbed his bag and her suitcase and took them back to the cab.
The driver helped him put them in the boot then they both got back into the car.
As they set off, Colin absently answered the driver’s questions about their obvious crash, his attention only half on the conversation. His gaze kept drifting back to Penelope, to the quietness of her beside him, to the fact that she had not once looked his way since they’d started moving again.
She sat angled towards the window, her reflection faint in the glass, expression composed, as though she had already put the night they’d shared completely behind her. The finality of it disoriented him more than anything else could have. It didn’t match how it had felt to him.
How it still felt.
He wanted time. A chance to untangle whatever the hell was going on inside him. Something had cracked clean through the armour he’d spent years building, and he didn’t yet know what to do with the mess of emotions that had come spilling out.
His phone buzzed suddenly in his pocket.
Then again. Then once more.
He frowned, pulling it out as the screen lit up with notifications. Missed calls, messages, work, family.
His signal was back.
Beside him, Pen’s phone began to vibrate too, the sound loud in the confined space of the cab.
He felt the familiar reflex kick in, his focus narrowing as he skimmed the screen and brought up an email then tapped out a quick reply. Then another. And another.
Suddenly, he caught himself and stopped, painfully aware of how easily his world had snapped back into place around him.
But was that truly what he wanted?
He glanced over at Penelope and she quickly turned her head away.
She’d been watching him.
The realisation tightened something in his chest. He shifted in his seat and turned to her slightly unable to stand the silence any longer.
“Pen,” he began quietly and then, frustratingly, his phone began to ring.
Letting out a muffled curse, he very nearly ignored it, then glanced at the screen.
Mum.
Damn. He should have called her first.
Tapping the accept, he held his phone to his ear.
“Hi. Yes. Yeah, we’re both fine,” he said, straightening instinctively. “We’re in a cab now. On our way.” A pause. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything when we get there.” He listened again, his expression softening a fraction. “That sounds great, thanks, mum.” Another pause. “Yes,” he said, glancing towards Penelope. “I’ll tell her.”
He ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket.
“Mum’s making us some breakfast,” he said, looking over at Penelope. “She was worried, obviously. Wanted to make sure you’d eaten.”
Her expression lightened and she gave him a small, genuine smile.
“That’s very kind of her,” she said softly.
He huffed a quiet breath of agreement.
“You know she always looks out for you. She loves having you around.”
“And you, Colin,” she replied, without hesitation. She reached out and placed her hand on his, where it rested on his thigh. “She loves having you home, you know she does. She’s going to be so pleased you’re back for Christmas.”
For some reason her words landed more heavily than he expected.
He stared down at her hand, throat tightening a fraction. She was right, of course. His mother had always been there, a steady presence in his life, never demanding anything in return.
It struck him, then, how many times he’d taken that quiet constancy for granted in recent years. Far too many if he was honest with himself - and not just with his mother.
His family too.
Penelope…
His stomach rolled a little.
He didn’t like it.
Didn’t like what it said about him.
He turned his hand slightly, meaning to catch hers. To hold it there, if only for a second, but then her phone buzzed.
She glanced down and pulled her hand away before he could grasp it.
“Oh! It’s El,” she said, already unlocking the screen. “I’d better answer her.”
And just like that, the moment, just like her hand, slipped through his fingers.
Colin leaned back in his seat and watched her type, his gaze lingering on her profile as she bent her head. She bit down on her bottom lip and he felt his own press together in response as the sight went straight through him.
He knew that mouth.
Knew the warmth of it, the softness, the way it had yielded beneath his, the way she’d sounded when she forgot herself. It was all there in his head on a never ending loop that he was quite certain was going to torture him for a long time to come.
He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t realise she’d finished typing straight away.
So it was a surprise when she slid her phone back into her coat and turned toward the window, smothering a yawn she couldn’t quite manage to hide.
“We’ve still got a way to go,” he began, without thinking. “You should try and get some sleep. You probably didn’t get much last night.”
Her head snapped around and she stared at him, her sky-blue eyes wide.
Bloody hell.
“What I mean to say is…with everything that…” He broke off and cleared his unexpectedly dry throat. “Well, the couch can’t have been very…”
He stopped again.
Christ, why couldn’t he just shut the hell up?
“It was fine. I was fine. I was very comfortable,” she blurted out, her voice slightly higher than normal. Then, as though only realising what she’d said, she hastened to clarify, “I mean the couch was, not…” She paused as heat surged into her cheeks and drew in a calming breath. “I think sleep would be a really good idea, actually,” she muttered unhappily, before turning away from him and closing her eyes.
The conversation was over.
Colin let out a quiet breath and forced his attention back to the window.
He didn’t trust himself to look at her again.
But the knot in his chest loosened all the same.
Because if she truly had been as unbothered by what had happened between them as she’d seemed to be, she wouldn’t have just reacted the way she did.
Would she?
He settled back into his own seat and closed his eyes as well. And as the car’s motion lulled him into sleep, he held on to the heartening thought that she hadn’t been quite as unaffected as she’d wanted him to believe earlier.
And that felt…good.
CHAPTER 7