BooksBarbecue
Back Again, Rachel
Chapters (98)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. 93
  97. 94
  98. Acknowledgements

In the bedroom, with efficient speed, he cast off his jacket, whipped his T-shirt over his head and kicked away his boots. Briefly shy, he turned from me to tug at his belt, before unbuttoning himself, removing his jeans and underwear, then he reached for me. His fingers slid and slithered around my pyjama buttonholes and still he had the top open and off with commendable speed. Then he hooked his index fingers inside the waistband, laughed softly and shook the shorts. They shivered their way to the floor where I stepped easily out of them.

Lifting me as if I were a precious object, he placed me in the centre of the bed, then climbed in himself. Already I was curling and twisting my arms and legs around him, the familiar feel of his body and the beautiful smell of his skin calming any residual anxiety. This was how we’d always gone to sleep together, night after night, when we’d lived in New York.

‘I love you,’ he whispered.

‘And I love you.’ Dreamily, I admitted, ‘This was what I thought of when you asked me to remember a time I’d felt at peace. This, just going to sleep with you on a random regular night.’

‘You can do it again any time you want. Every night for the rest of your life, if you like.’

Somehow I already knew that. ‘You live in Ireland now?’

‘Soon.’

Sleep was pulling me deep into its delicious slipstream. ‘Best news of all time. Luke, would you do me a favour?’

‘Anything.’

‘When we wake up, could you ask me something?’

‘Of course.’

‘Can you say, “I suppose a ride is out of the question?” ’

With a jolt of unexpected laughter, he said, ‘Done.’

He settled the duvet over us both, then turned out the light.

Skin against skin, his lips in my hair, my hand on his thigh, his arm across my body. My tight chest loosened and eased, every individual breath slow and calm. His exhales lengthened until, without even trying, we were keeping time with each other.

Together, we tumbled off the edge of the world into a deep, sweet sleep.

Acknowledgements

I’ve addressed some very painful life events in this book. If you’ve been affected by any of them, I offer you my sincere compassion. I didn’t do formal research for the various addiction storylines because, as a recovering alcoholic, I know the condition well. If you’re concerned that you might need help, your first port of call should probably be your GP.

If Trassa’s story happens to be yours, RAINN and the Canadian Centre for Child Protection offer help in the US and Canada respectively.