Her Melting Point

Just Accept It

On Saturday Alexander worked in the ice cream parlour all day; and Jackie was supposed to clean and organise the cottage for the move. Instead, she spent the day loitering around, having tea, aimlessly rearranging furniture pieces, unloading shelves, and leaving them like that. She hoovered half of the ground floor, and then got distracted by washing up. Tartufo, who was beyond terrified of her geriatric Electrolux and of her baking sheets, had been hiding in the second bedroom since the previous evening.

When Alexander opened the door, Jackie rushed to him and threw herself at him, immediately tearing his jacket off him. He reciprocated, kissing her, and hoisting her up - but unlike quite a few previous occasions, she wasn't carried upstairs and tossed on the bed.

A low hum rolled in his throat, as if stopping was a massive effort; but he pulled back and studied her face.

"What's up?"

"I'm stressed," she exhaled and dropped her head on his shoulder. "I'm sort of dysregulated, and all over the place. I must be ovulating. Um, ignore the last statement. That's TMI. Or maybe not. We'll need to discuss it later. But basically, I feel guilty for faffing about all day and being unproductive, and I'm trying to divert your attention from it. And my own. Just trying to get out of my noggin. And sex with you always makes me feel better."

She followed up this ridiculous monologue with a groan.

"You've got nothing to feel guilty about," he answered slowly. "You don't have to be productive on your day off. And we do need to discuss your... ovulation; but later." There was a hardly noticeable pause in his latest statement. "Why are you stressed?"

Jackie sighed into the crook of his neck. His skin smelled like rain and cold November air.

"The school. The board meeting." She pushed her fingers up his strong neck, into the short hair at the back of his neck, and then up more, into his thick heavy curls. "I've also got residual anxiety about living with a man. But that's just silly."

"What sort of anxiety?" he asked and started walking towards the stairs.

"That I'm a bother. That you won't enjoy it. That I'm not doing enough. That you'll judge my–" She searched her mind for a good way to explain it. "My mess. All the knickknacks, and my Grandmother's dishes, and books, and– And your flat is so stylish and minimalist, and–"

He stopped on top of the stairs. Jackie was starting to regret opening her gob. Maybe if she unbuckled the belt of his trousers, he'd forget her daft blathering.

"Do you need me to answer any of it right now?" he asked levelly.

"No!"

"Alright." He resumed his walking. "Then we will talk after."

***

Jackie opened her eyes - and burst into laughter.

Alexander lifted his head from her stomach where his cheek was resting. "What is it?"

"You are amazing," Jackie announced. "I'm the luckiest woman on Earth. And also a blithering idiot. Why did I ever resist? I should've started dating you the moment I was back in Fleckney."

He looked somewhat confused; his hair stood around his head, since she'd been grabbing handfuls of his locks, pushing his face down to where his mouth had been creating the most exquisite magic. 

"Goodness, if someone ever told me that the answer to all my troubles is a proper shag, preferably with one of these multiple orgasms, I'd tell them to have their head checked," she muttered and gave out a few more disbelieving chuckles.