Page 19

JENNA

There’s a new pain in the eerie silence, with the excruciating noise of the fire alarm gone. My feral sobs fill the room. But I can no more hold them back than I can control the impulse to curl foetal-like in the tangled mess of the bed.

With each ragged intake of breath, I can smell him—us. The pungent memory summoned by that scent only prompts deeper, agonising realisations of what I’ve done and how incredibly stupid I’ve been.

The bride next door is a reminder of all I’m not. I’m not her. I’m not someone’s everything. Their one and only. The sight of her in that sleek white dress—so like mine still hanging forlornly in my wardrobe—slapped me across the face, snapping me brutally out of these last few hours, where I’ve pretended to be something I’m not. Something Adam left me doubting I can ever be.

His abrupt exit from my life has left me with a void inside. The cool exterior that serves me so well in my work has taken hold below the surface. It’s as if the warmth of the love I felt for Adam seeped away with his leaving—although he would argue it happened earlier, providing him the reason to go.

Beyond my smiling face and the eagerness with which I’ve embraced Geordie tonight, there’s a cool deep well, a pool where no ripple of true love stirs. Once it was there. I know I felt it for Adam. I let him plunge in and I know he found something. But it wasn’t enough.

Geordie claims to have found it too. He chipped away at the ice, wrapped me in the heat of his desire, swearing this is more than just a burst of sexual tension between two old friends we never saw coming.

But I struggle to believe him. Has he truly melted the frost around my heart, or am I simply desperate for it to be true? And in the morning I’ll wake to find the same Jenna who hasn’t felt anything for anyone since Adam.

As the pain intensifies, the harsh guttural sobbing morphs into a new sound. My body seeks to blur the jagged edges, reaching for what has saved me before.

When I’m running from a migraine, this keening that pours from me now in a last ditch effort to escape the all-encompassing pain will sometimes transport me to a safer place. The low wail floods every cell as I ride its wave. I soar above the river of pain. It’s a meditation, holding me aloft. I swirl along the vibrating pathway of my own sad song, my voice thrumming in my brain like an extended single-syllable mantra.

This is how he finds me.

Geordie lowers himself onto the bed. Gently, carefully. He slides across to where I teeter on the edge. I’ve retreated as far as I can from the door and what lies beyond—the image of a happiness I’d once pictured for myself. His body brackets mine, a broad arm looped across my waist, the weight of it anchoring me. He won’t let me be swept away by this aching tide of memories. Geordie has me. Here. Now.

In the safety of his protective hug, I begin to let go of the sound. It trails away, the high-pitched note dropping to a soothing hum, and finally a light hiss of breath between lips still bruised from his earlier frantic kisses.

His lips brush my hair, and I relax into the softness. My body sinks down, embracing the calm. Geordie’s silence is comforting, his presence like one of those weighted blankets, its gentle pressure conveying I’m safe with him. But I knew this. I knew this from the moment he turned to me on the patio a week ago. I’ve been hurt, but Geordie is not a man who would do me harm.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “There are things in my past…”

“Ssssh.” He brushes a thumb across my cheek. “You don’t need to explain.”

“You know.” My voice is dull and flat. Of course he does. I suppose Rachel told him.

Geordie knows my shame. While there’s some relief in the fact he won’t think me totally irrational, it would have been nice to preserve the illusion of me as a whole person, not this damaged woman with a huge gaping hole. Adam took something from me and mostly I’ve covered it well. Now Geordie has seen into its ugly centre, he will never see me the same way again. But then, why, if he knew all this past week, did he still pursue me?

It could be just sexual attraction—I felt the heat of his gaze on me right from the start—but surely I haven’t totally imagined the other things he hints at with his eyes and his words. The tantalising allure of him possibly having feelings for me dangles in front of me. I’m desperate not to lose him this soon. Even if it’s just so I can pretend this is going somewhere. That he could be something more, and that I could be something more to him than a good lay.

“Connor told me,” he whispers. “I’m sorry Jenna. This guy who left you—you obviously loved him, so he must have had something going for him—but he’s an idiot.” His voice grows fierce. “And that he hurt you so much…” He huffs an angry breath against my ear. “I’d fucking deck him,” he mutters.

It is so unexpected. Gentle laughing Geordie, who has a reputation for hauling other guys out of trouble, not creating it—a peacemaker, not a brawler—would fight for me. I’m not normally turned on by the thought of men going all neanderthal on my behalf, but something in me wishes he and Adam might cross paths one day so he can deliver on that threat.

“Why the hell would he do that to you? I don’t get it.”

“He decided I wasn’t the right one for him,” I mumble from beneath the sheet. “I wasn’t enough. Not loving enough, soft enough, sweet enough. And in other ways, I was too much. He saw my confidence and my success as a threat. He wanted something different. Someone different.”

“He cheated on you?” Geordie’s voice rises and I can feel the tense stiffening in his body lying against the length of mine.

“He said he didn’t. I believed him. I have to. If he’d been playing me for a fool, it would have been worse. But he moved on quickly. Another woman in our company. Even if they didn’t get together until after our split, I think they had an eye for each other before.”

“Is that why you went to work for the Highlanders? ”

“Yeah, out of one of the worst things in my life came one of the best.” I suck in a slow breath. “They’ve been good years, career wise. They bought me the freedom I have at the moment. To work for myself. My only regret is I didn’t realise it in time to spend more time with Mum. But you can’t go back.”

“No. But Jen, you’ve still got so much ahead of you.”

“I have.”

Perhaps saying it aloud will make it true. I untwine myself from under his arm and roll to face him. Those grey-blue eyes study me in the gloom. Is this man what’s ahead of me? He is, at least for a little while, I think. And it’s nice. Him with his marshmallow centre. It’s like he recognises there’s softness inside me, too. For all our differences, we have a sameness. We can be friends. We are friends.

So, although not wanting to get my hopes up, or reach for more than I deserve, I make him an offer. A small safe one, so I can keep him close, but not so close it will wreck me when it ends. If this thing is just a bright burst of flame and quickly gutters out, I won’t be too badly burned.

“I had fun tonight. With you. We’re good together Geordie.”

In the lamplight, I study his face. His eyes spark, a flare of interest, and his mouth tips up in a smile.

“I think so.” One finger traces the curve of my nose, slips to my lips and trails down to rest between my breasts.

“So, why don’t we do this again?”

“This?” He quirks a brow, his hand continuing its downward progress, coming to rest between my thighs.

“Meet up. Have some fun. Nothing serious. Just enjoy whatever this is. No one else needs to know. ”

The playful smile slips away, and an uncomfortable silence hangs between us. A swallow travels down his throat, and he bites at his lip.

“Is that what you want? Friends who just happen to sleep together?”

“Yeah.” I shrug, trying to sound casual, like it’s no big deal. I want a lot more than that. But I’ve learned. Being greedy gets you nothing. I’m going to try for something with Geordie, even if it’s less than what my silly, hopeful little heart wants. “It’s worked for us so far.”

“And no one will know.”

There’s a tone to these words I can’t fathom. It bothers me. Reading subtext is one of my superpowers—part of why I’m good at my job. But with Geordie, at this moment I’m at a loss. Is it disappointment? Sadness? Resignation? I blunder on.

“Well, there’s Dad. You know how he feels about me and players. If the guys on the team find out, word will get back to him soon enough. And Rachel could be awkward. Might be best if we keep it quiet.”

“That’s going to be tricky in Cluanie. Unearthing everyone’s secrets is an organised sport.”

“You forget. Hiding people’s secrets is what I do for a living. When you take control of the narrative, tell the story for them, that’s all they see.”

His face has slipped behind a blank mask. I fear I’ve ruined it before we’ve even started with my calculating approach. I’ve said too much and not offered him enough. True Jenna style.

Then he smiles, although the crinkles that usually bracket his eyes are worryingly absent

“And what story are you going to tell about us? ”

“I’ll think of something.”

“What if I said I didn’t care? That I’m not worried if people know?” The earnestness written in his steady gaze tugs at my heart.

I’m flooded with a vain surge of satisfaction that he’d be comfortable with people knowing we’re together. That he’d stand up for us against the likely objectors—Dad and Rachel—makes me want to sigh out loud with gratitude. It’s always been me defending other people’s choices, and here’s a guy who’s ready to step up and defend mine.

But I push the tempting offer aside as one I can’t accept, crushing those crazy euphoric feelings back down; because when it ends, as it inevitably must—there’s no way Geordie would stay in this for more than a bit of a fling—it’s just going to hurt even more.

The fall-out—the sympathetic eyes, the consoling words, the whispering behind my back—would wreck me. I’m not prepared to live through that again. It was bad the first time in far-off London. How much worse would it be if it happened in Cluanie? Where there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. No, desperate as I am for this little piece of happiness, I’d rather end it before it’s properly begun than risk that outcome.

Besides, this way, if I leave in November—much as I love my little business, I still feel the magnetic pull of the Highlanders—he won’t have to bear the gossip. There’s plenty in our town who’d love nothing better than to twist my decision to go into proof that Geordie’s nothing special. Not special enough to have kept me in Cluanie.

And then there’s Geordie’s rugby. It brings him so much joy. The way he talks about it, I know that rugby pitch is where he feels most alive, most capable, most whole. If it were to be taken away from him, over me, what would he have left?

“I’d say that I am worried. I’d rather they don’t know.” My words come out a whisper as I try to dull their impact.

He’s battling with this. He closes his eyes, as if needing to protect himself against them.

“Geordie, it’s better this way.” I attempt a soothing tone, masking my sudden desperation for his agreement. For all my tough self-talk about doing this on my terms or not doing it all, already the thought of losing him stabs at me. I summon all of my PR wiles, talking him down from the ledge before he jumps right out of my life. “You know, just keep it casual—until we see where it goes.”

It’s a shitty thing to do, tossing him those last few words, a little crumb of possibility, and I swallow down the shame at my selfishness. His eyes flutter open and the glimmer of hope written there confirms I’m the worst sort of person.

“OK,” he says softly, reaching a hand to smooth back my wild hair, like he’s gentling a flighty horse. “Let’s see where this goes.”

There’s a confidence in his small smile, as if he’s indulging me for now while knowing he’ll talk me round. I can’t let him. Fun. Casual. Fleeting. And no one gets hurt.