Page 30 of Save You (Maxton Hall #2)

“That’s a great idea,” Mum agrees, smiling broadly at me. She’s really trying not to look so anxious, but there’s still a skeptical glint in her eye. She gives Dad a fleeting pat on the arm, then grabs the next letter and opens it.

It seems like the conversation is over, so I creep backward out of the living room. Then I head into the kitchen, where you can watch the cars turning onto our street. When Ember and I were little, we always used to sit on the dresser when we were expecting family and watch out for them to arrive.

In less than ten minutes, the Rolls comes round the corner. I start running. No way can I let Dad get to the door first and glare at James with eagle eyes.

I open the door before he’s even gotten out of the car.

The air is still fresh and I shift my weight from one foot to the other to keep warm, but it’s no use.

I stop as James comes closer. He opens the little wooden gate with a practiced hand and then looks up at me.

For a tiny moment, his steps slow, but then he comes through the front garden and up the steps, until he’s standing in front of me, at our front door.

“Hey,” he says, his voice scratchy.

I long to give him a hug, just for that pathetic little word. There was a time when him greeting everyone like that really wound me up, but these days it just sounds natural from his lips. And pretty much normal.

“Good morning,” I reply, holding the door for him. I nod to him to come in.

The moment in which he clears his throat quietly and steps through the doorway into our house seems immensely significant to me. I wonder if he knows that he’s the first boy I’ve brought home. The first to mean so much to me, and who I—even now—trust enough to introduce to my parents.

The sight of James in our little hallway is weird, but at the same time, I’m asking myself how I was ever so scared of this moment. Everything about it feels right.

James is wearing a gray coat with subtle checks over black trousers in some soft fabric and a simple black wool jumper. His leather shoes are black too. His red-blond hair is disheveled as ever and curling slightly, like he’s just had a shower. I long to touch it.

“Can I take your coat?” I ask instead.

James nods, lost in thought, as he looks around.

Of course he catches sight of the cringeworthy photos of Ember and me when we were kids.

There’s one where we’re dancing in the garden, another where we’re picking apples, and another where we’re in a paddling pool at my aunt’s house, beaming with gap-toothed smiles.

James takes them all in while slipping his coat from his shoulders in one fluid movement and then handing it to me.

I have to really force myself not to stare at him—after all the time I’ve spent lately forbidding myself from doing so, the temptation is even greater.

I focus on hanging his coat neatly on the hook, then I walk to the living room. James follows, but before I open the door, I whirl around and look up at him.

“Are you a vegetarian?”

James blinks several times. One corner of his mouth twitches as he slowly shakes his head. “No, I’m not.”

I exhale. “Good.”

As I press the handle down and walk into the room, James on my heels, my stomach is fluttering nervously.

“Mum, Dad, this is James,” I say, gesturing toward him.

James takes an audible breath, then walks over to my mum, holding out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Bell.”

“Hello, James,” Mum says, smiling warmly at him. “Do call me Helen.”

There’s no sign of her earlier skepticism, and I wonder if she’s really this good an actor, or if she’s cutting him a little slack because she knows how devastated he was after his mum died and she feels sorry for him.

“No problem, Helen,” says James.

Dad isn’t as good at hiding his suspicion. His eyes are cool and appraising, and it looks like he’s crushing James’s hand as he shakes it. James doesn’t flinch.

Fortunately, Mum breaks the awkward moment. “We’d like to invite you to dinner, James,” she says, “so that we can all get to know each other a bit.”

I shut my eyes and fight down the urge to press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. I hope James isn’t already overwhelmed by my family.

“That would be lovely,” he replies, without a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t have anything on for the rest of the day.”

“Great,” Dad says, with no emotion of any kind in his voice.

There’s a moment of awkward silence and I grab James by the sleeve to pull him upstairs and set him free. We’re on the stairs before I realize what I just did—I touched James, just like that, like it was no big deal. Like it’s something we always do, because we’re friends.

I hastily let go of him.

“I haven’t tidied up or anything,” I say as we stop outside my room.

James shakes his head. “That’s OK. I turned up out of the blue, didn’t I?”

I nod and open the door. I let James step in ahead of me. It’s so weird to be in this room with him, this space that’s so familiar and safe. I automatically feel good, but there’s also this tingling uncertainty inside me—what is this conversation, this day, going to bring?

A quiet sound cuts into my thoughts.

Or rather, a hoarse laugh.

I turn to James. His laugh sounds kind of rusty, like he hasn’t found anything funny for ages. As he sees my confused expression, he waves around the room, taking everything in. “What does your room look like tidy, if this is in a mess, Ruby Bell?”

A warm feeling spreads through my belly and then my whole body, making me smile.

I really like seeing James here.

Seeing him laugh makes me happy .

A wave of yearning washes over me. It’s trying to drive me over to him, but I stay where I am and close the door quietly behind me. As it clicks gently, James’s smile fades.

For a moment, we just stand there, face-to-face, looking at each other.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I say eventually, breaking the ice.

James shakes his head slowly.

“I should have told you sooner. It—”

“Ruby,” he interrupts me softly. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

He’s right. I know that. Even so, I wish I could turn back time and stop a situation like last night ever happening.

“Why did you run away like that?” I ask cautiously.

He gulps hard. “I was just out of my depth with the whole thing. Wren and I haven’t fought like that for ages.”

“I know your friendship with Wren means a lot to you,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry.”

James walks over to my desk and runs his finger over the spines of the books that have been stacked there all week. “You don’t have to apologize. And I didn’t come here to talk about Wren.”

“You didn’t? What, then?” I whisper. God knows where my voice has disappeared to.

He glances at me briefly, then turns his full attention back to the chaos on my desk. “Do you know why Wren got so angry?” he asks.

I shake my head and take the two steps that bring me to stand beside him. “No.”

“He was angry because he feels like you’re more important to me than anything else now.”

James pauses for a moment before he continues. “And he’s right.”

He’s still standing by my desk. And he’s not looking at me while he’s saying these important words.

“James,” I whisper, to make him turn toward me.

He does as I wish, and the look in his eyes overwhelms me. I can see all the same emotions that are flooding through my body.

At this moment, such a powerful wave of affection for him washes over me that I almost have to look away.

Cautiously, I raise my hand and stroke the messy strands of hair off his forehead.

Then I lay my hand on his cheek. His face feels warm to my touch, and as I run my fingers softly over his skin, James wraps his hand around them.

It hasn’t been that long since we were last standing like this. That time, I touched his cheek, plucked up all my courage, and confessed to James that I didn’t want to lose him. Then he took my hand from his face and turned away from me.

But now the opposite happens.

James holds my hand tight and shuts his eyes. As I stroke my thumb over his skin, a tremble runs through his whole body. He opens his eyes again and I hold my breath.

“I don’t want anything to come between us again, Ruby,” he whispers.

I can hardly breathe with James this close to me. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and at this second, I realize that I feel exactly the same.

I don’t want to be apart from him anymore.

I can’t be angry or sad any longer.

I want to feel that rush again, at long last, that James and I give each other. I want to talk to him again, message him again, share my worries and fears with him.

I want to love him.

Even after two months, the all-encompassing longing for him hasn’t faded. On the contrary, it’s grown stronger, day after day. And there’s nothing I can do about that.

“I feel the same,” I whisper.

He makes a quiet, despairing sound, and the next moment, he pulls me to him. He wraps his arms around me tight as my eyes start to sting and tears run down my cheeks. James mumbles something into my hair. And although I don’t catch the words, I know deep inside me what they mean.

James

I don’t know how long we stand there like that.

At some point, I find myself semi-sitting on the desk surface with Ruby leaning against me.

My heart is hammering so hard in my chest that I feel sure she must be able to hear it.

Her arms are tight around my waist and her face is buried in my shoulder.

Her tears slowly dried up, but I can still feel the damp patches they left.

I breathe in deeply, and the familiar, sweet scent of Ruby fills my nose. I can’t believe this is really happening. At this second, my life is no longer a shambles. Everything feels right. I could stand like this forever.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I murmur after a while, my lips brushing her hairline. I would love to let them roam somewhere else—but I won’t let that happen. I’m not going to kiss her. Not now, not today. That isn’t why I came here.