A/N Sorry for the confusion earlier. Not sure how I managed to upload a random chunk of story, in my defence I'm shattered! But that's my issue not yours. Hope you enjoy, xx

Chapter Forty One

Vicky was dating a new man, and she was gushing with the details of their latest date. Lizzie was laughing for the duration of the call at her embarrassing faux pas and the details of her swoop in for the first kiss only to have him look to down as he dropped his wallet, and her ending up head butting him. It made her recent dating incident fade into insignificance.

"So what's happening with Oscar? You've been deliberately quiet about him, but you are not hanging up without debriefing young lady."

Lizzie groaned, "I was hoping to end this call without mention of him."

She chuckled down the phone, "spill."

Lizzie lounged back to lie on the sofa, kicking her feet up, "he realised I was pissed off. Wormed it out of me. I told him I won't be lied to."

Vicky sighed, "oh Liz, when are you going to have more confidence in yourself?"

That made tears well in her eyes, her friend seemed to cut through her layers of bullshit, straight to the point every time, "it's not just that...but he was purposely not telling me the truth..."

"I sense a 'but'..."

She closed her eyes, "he showed me a file of stuff, jobs he's applying for, he's trying to stay here."

"So maybe you jumped to conclusions?"

Groaning she rolled on to her side, "maybe, but with reason...then he said he wants me to find a job I want, that's why he is encouraging me not to go back to work."

"Wow! That man does know you well!"

A tear escaped her eye, because Vicky was right, and that scared her.

Oscar hadn't laughed so much in ages. He and Mike were great mates, even when he'd been his boss they'd socialised well. He was a few years older than him but since his divorce a ten years earlier, he'd been great company on many a business trip and night out.

Tonight was no exception. He raved over the West coast, the celebs, the surf, the sun. A few months earlier and Oscar would have hankered after joining him, but now that he had family, nothing was further from his mind. Cold and wet Manchester maybe bleak and dark, but he had Nate, radiating sunshine in his life. And Lizzie.

She was becoming as important to him as his son, he knew that. But then there was her lack of trust, it had hurt him more than he wanted to think about.

"So, another beer?" Mike's voice dragged him from his reverie. He was in a bad place thinking of Lizzie here, with alcohol in his system. She was potent enough without that.

When he shrugged, Mike grinned, "that'll be a yes? And look at that...two o'clock."

As mike left him to go to the bar, Oscar glanced left, 'that' referred to two women, a blonde and a brunette, slim, no skinny, waif like. He had never felt so disinterested.

Watching Mike ordered drinks, he groaned as he spotted him leaning in and whispering to the barman, and sure enough, as he turned around and came back towards him, beers in hand, he spotted the barman move in the direction of the women with shot glasses in his hands. They giggled, then followed his nod to them...and as their eyes cast over him and Mike, he groaned at the flash of excitement. Mike was good-looking for someone approaching fifty, not that he was old, but he was in good shape with neat hair and what Freya had told him was a strong jaw.

This wouldn't be the first time they'd picked up women together...though he'd generally been better since he'd committed to Krystal...generally.

As the two women smiled coyly, a nauseating attempt at innocence, Mike elbowed him, "come on. We're in."

He shook his head, "no way, I'm here for a catch up and a couple of beers."

Mike guffawed loudly, not believing a word he said, "yeah right! Come on...yellow or brown? I'm not fussy."

Suddenly he thought about Lizzie, and a man referring to her as a hair colour, as a one night stand, and he wanted to punch Mike. He didn't care about the girls...he didn't know them, and wasn't bothered to know him, but the attitude almost killed him. He'd dated a woman who danced provocatively for men for a living. That hadn't bothered him, he'd never felt this...protective of anyone before.

Mike was looking expectantly at him, then with wide eyes, nodded towards the women. Oscar shook his head, "not in the mood. Gonna take a leak."

With that, he jumped to his feet and escaped.

"How's your evening? Hope Nate has behaved. Wish I was home..."

He sent the message before he had chance to think it through, but then looking at his watch, he realised that at midnight there was little chance of her being awake. He did his business, but before he left the bathroom, his phone pinged.

"Surprisingly quiet without a certain big oaf hanging around the place. Nate good, and I'm sure you are having a whale of a time. See you in the morning?"

He sighed, yes. She would. Instead he text her an 'X', a kiss. It was another message that he hadn't thought about before pressing 'send', but there it was, a kiss. Shaking his head, he left the bathroom, but as he re-entered the bar, he groaned. Mike was sat between the two women he'd been appreciating, and looked up with a grin as he approached. His friend and colleague was too drunk to realise that Oscar wasn't happy, and definitely wasn't playing along. Instead he threw an arm around him and dragged Oscar down to his level.

"Wicker, old man...this is Gemma..." he pointed at the brunette, who was virtually sat in his lap. "And this is Sara." The blond...Sara, moved along to stand beside him and smiled.

Was he ever taken in by this? It was such a contrived smile, her stance, her hair...everything calculated. And he wanted to scream. He didn't want her, he didn't want this...he wanted to escape. He wanted to stand and watch Lizzie sleep; he didn't want to buy a stranger drinks, take her to a hotel room and do what he'd done dozens of times. Anonymous sex. That wasn't appealing anymore, and he knew that it would be nowhere near as satisfying as just curling up besides Lizzie.

"We're just going...to powder our noses."

The brunette stood and tugged at Sara's arm. Oscar watched as she reluctantly unwound herself, then followed her friend across the room.

Mike, grinning, leaned closer, "shit! They are up for anything. Let's get them out of here."

It was gross, the way he referred to the women, the way they hung on to him right back. It was cheap and nasty and he felt scarred by it all.

"Sorry, but I'm heading home," to my family. He thought silently. Family. What an amazing word.

Mike jumped up, "what? Gemma won't play ball..." he winked, "or with my balls, without you entertaining Sara."

He had deciphered that much in the few minutes that he'd been in the bathroom. That was how this worked, buy a drink, brief chat, agree on location - his or hers, then off to do the deed. It made him feel sick.

"Sorry Mike, but I have to leave...I have responsibilities these days."

His friend's jaw dropped, slack, for several long moments.

"But they want us, Oscar."

He shrugged, "but I don't want either of them." He stood. "Sorry if I am not being true to form, but I really have changed."

Mike jumped to his feet, "shit. Oscar...look." He nodded in the direction of the two women slinking like happy cats across the room, before he'd have loved it, now to him, it looked calculating, contrived.

Grabbing his jacket, he clapped Mike on the back, "have fun! Maybe they'll both entertain you."

Then much to the other man, and the approaching women's chagrin, he marched out of the building.

The taxi seemed interminably long. Then he fumbled with the lock at the front door. When he was inside he kicked off his shoes, then took the stairs two at a time. At the top of the stairs, he opened the door to Lizzie's room, then sighed. There she was, curled up under the duvet, her hair spread across the pillow, her eyelashes sweeping onto her cheeks. Serene and beautiful.

He wasn't lying, all he wanted was to lie near her, hold her, feel her skin against his. Kicking off his clothes, he stripped down to his boxer shorts, then pulled the duvet back, sliding in beside her. It was only a couple of nights since they'd set the world alight in this very bed, but it seemed like an eon ago. Curling up behind her, spooning against her, he felt her stir. But as his hand slid around her waist, her own fingers moved to sit on top of it, holding him tight, at the same time, her pelvis wriggled back into his.

His body sprung to attention, but he wasn't there for sex, he was there for this, warmth, companionship...belonging. For the first time in a long time he wanted this, he wanted her.

Those thoughts filled his head as he closed his eyes and fell asleep with the scent of her filling her nostrils.

Lizzie was hot, as she tried to open her eyes; she became aware of a weight across her body, her chest struggling to open with each breath. Wriggling, she then felt a huge protrusion against the cleft in her buttocks, and warm breath on her neck.

With a grunt, she managed to roll over, to find Oscar, fast asleep beside her, around her. She had no memory of him coming home, no memory of him sliding in beside her. She took a few deep breaths whilst she tried to decide what to do about him.

But then her eyes drifted to the blonde locks, a little too long, falling into his eyes, his elegant straight nose, the stubble darkening his jaw. He was beautiful; there was no denying that, she just wished he came with instructions, and a safety net. Because without either she feared that every decision with regards to Oscar Wicker was the wrong one.

"Hey," he breathed, his eyes not opening.

She stifled the giggle that caused, then hissed, "what are you doing here?"

He grunted a reply, "sleeping."

"I get that! But why here."

He smiled, eyes still tightly closed, "because it's where I wanted to be all night."

"I'm not here for you to shag when you're pissed."

The smile became a laugh, "shag you? I'd do that sober. And I haven't even tried that."

She wriggled her hips against his, "really?"

He opened an eye and studied her, "my body has distinct ideas about you, but that wasn't what this is about."

That more than piqued her interest, "really."

He nodded, eye closing again with a grunt of relief, "really. I was out talking, drinking...and I knew that there was nowhere I'd rather be, than here with you."

She swallowed nervously, "I haven't agreed that I want you like this."

He waggled his eyebrows, which could have been menacing if he wasn't still almost asleep, "well I'm here. And I don't feel you pushing me out."

"We're not having sex."

Oscar responded with a nod, "of course not..." He fell silent after that, his breathing deepening as he fell asleep again. Or so she thought, but as she settled back against the pillows, his arms tightened around her, and he added, "...yet!"