Page 24 of In the Long Run

‘Yes, yes. We all get it,’ Brand jokes, but no one laughs. ‘Biggest mistake of my life was letting this one go. And now it seems I’m too late.’

What an interesting way to describe how Gen dumped him.

‘I wanted to wish you both the best.’ Brand’s smile doesn’t suggest even one iota of genuineness. ‘It’s obvious you’re meant to be together. Everyone agrees. I had trouble,’ he pauses, ‘letting go and I didn’t behave well. That’s my mistake, and I accept full responsibility for it.’

This unexpected about-face sets me on edge. Judging by the rigid set of Gen’s shoulders and the tight grip she has on me, she feels the same way.

‘It’s so nice when everyone can be friends,’ Eva says encouragingly.

‘I’d really like to be, Genny.’

Fuck, that nickname makes me grind my jaws together.

‘I don’t think so,’ she says.

Brand nods sombrely. ‘Maybe in time. I know I’ve been a lot. And Watson?’

I breathe through my nose, keeping my lips pressed together.

‘We’ve had our differences in the past, but it’s time to bury the hatchet.’

He’s clearly been abducted by aliens. It’s the only solution that makes sense.

Brand extends his hand towards me. The last thing I want to do is shake it, but he’s outplayed me once again.

And that dickish hand squeeze that I use as a yardstick for measuring other men’s character? He does it three times.

‘I’ll let you all enjoy the rest of your evening.’

Silence reigns after he leaves the table.

‘I knew he was a nice guy!’ Eva exclaims. ‘Takes a lot of guts to apologise.’

Except Brand didn’t. At no point did he say he was sorry. He danced around it, somehow making himself seem like the bigger person.

‘Now, I’d love to hear more about this run club!’

Dinner passes in a blur of run club stories – of which I have a surprising amount – and Gen’s excited chatter about how the Annas have introduced her to the lucrative market of influencers who need bookkeeping support.

The way she beams explaining how her client list has grown dramatically makes me grin and knock my knee against hers under the table.

Before I know it, we’re exchanging goodbyes outside the front of the pub.

Tony claps a hand to my shoulder and lowers his voice. ‘Keep an eye on my girl, will you? I don’t trust Brand Bolton as far as I can throw him.’

That makes two of us.

‘Of course. She’s safe with me.’

There’s nothing in life I take more seriously than a promise.

And just like the one I gave Eugene for Alizée’s, I don’t have to think about Tony’s request. I won’t let anything bad happen to Gen.

The walk back to the apartment block is over too quickly. The clouds that rolled in this morning have congregated, covering any potential sighting of tonight’s full moon.

‘Are you running in the morning?’ I ask.

Gen’s breath puffs out on an exasperated laugh. ‘I have an interval session planned.’

‘Feel like company?’ Eugene’s more than capable of getting himself up in the morning now he’s in his moon boot. And his nurse came to help him shower today, too, so he’ll be happy to have a slow morning.

Gen shakes her head and swipes her key fob. ‘You don’t have to do that. I meant what I said to Mum. I don’t feel unsafe.’

Which is how it should be. No one should ever be scared when they’re out exercising. But the reports about someone targeting female runners worries me.

‘I’ll be fine. Remember what Celeste said? You don’t have to solve everyone’s problems for them, Knox. I’ve got this.’ She pats my arm and her hand sends a bolt of want through me.

Because I want to be needed.

To be the guy she counts on.

To be the guy who kisses her goodnight at her door. Maybe even gets invited in one day and asked to stay.

‘What are you doing?’ she asks when I follow her up the stairs to her apartment.

‘I’m walking you home.’

With Gen standing two stairs above me, we’re eye level, which means I don’t miss a single second of the abundance of emotions that roll across her face. I fucking love how expressive she is. It twists me up inside imagining how that might translate to the bedroom. To life in general …

She raises her eyebrows. ‘I am home.’

‘I’ll be seeing you to your door, Gen.’

Her lips twitch. ‘The door that’s only about ten metres from your door?’ The teasing lilt in her voice and the sparkle in her eyes ruin me and, dangerously, they encourage me.

‘It’s what a gentleman would do.’

Her mouth opens and her tongue peeks out, wetting her bottom lip.

I’d start our kiss by sucking on that lip, teasing her and enjoying the way her breath would warm my cheeks.

I already know what she sounds like when she moans.

But like a good soldier, I’d do a thorough reconnaissance.

Make sure I discovered all her other noises too.

‘Are you always a gentleman?’ Her words are breathy, and her eyes have lost some of their focus. Or maybe it’s mine that have.

A gentleman wouldn’t do the things I’m imagining. Like pushing her against the wall, coaxing her thighs up around my hips and kissing her until she forgets her own name.

Gen sways towards me. Our lips are millimetres apart and I’m drowning in sensations, in her.

The way her hand tangles in the hair at the nape of my neck.

How she holds my gaze, not blinking or shying away.

I nudge her nose with mine, smell the lemony scent of the limoncello her father insisted we enjoy as a nightcap.

‘Is that what you’d want? Someone to be gentle with you?’ I whisper.

‘I don’t know what I want,’ Gen says.

The moment pops and my ears are ringing for all the wrong reasons.

‘Shit. I’m sorry.’ Gen blinks and steps back, stumbling for the handrail to stop herself from falling up the stairs, which never would’ve happened. Not with my hands gripping her waist. My touch is possessive and – I swallow – unwelcome. I’m too much. I’ve come on too strong.

‘Nothing to apologise for,’ I murmur, before pressing a chaste kiss against her cheek. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Her hand cradles where my lips just were, and she nods wordlessly. I follow her to the top of the stairs but don’t step onto the landing. Instead I watch as she unlocks her door and steps inside.