Page 21 of The Surrender (Arlington Hall #2)

“Maybe a few more of those spa days might help me on my way to acceptance.”

“You’re a disgrace.” Let’s get this done with. “Jude and Katherine were engaged to be married.”

“Pardon me?”

“You heard.”

Her mouth drops open. “God damn it, I need Charley on this call, but she’s at the in-laws’.”

“It was years ago.”

“But he’s still fucking her?”

“Was, Abbie.” I stand, obviously too fast because I get a complete head rush.

So I quickly lower again, shaking the daze away.

I sense Abbie thinks I’m being dumb, and I hate that.

I also hate the fleeting wonder. Am I? I look back over my shoulder into the kitchen.

No. For God’s sake, no, I’m not dumb. “Will you come to dinner with us or not?”

“I’ll call Charley and see when they’re free.”

“Thank you.”

“I can’t wait to be the fifth wheel.” She snorts. “Fuck my life. I take it you’re not coming home tonight.”

“No, I’m staying here.” I blow air up onto my face, trying to cool it. “I signed the papers for my apartment this morning. Fancy a jaunt round IKEA at the weekend?”

“Oh, yes, I need some bigger pots for my plants. Sunday?”

“Perfect.”

“You okay? You sound out of breath.”

I stand slowly this time, pulling my T-shirt away from my body, clammy. “Fine.” Just too many orgasms. “Let me know about Charley and Lloyd.” I hang up and reach for my brow, wiping it. Damp.

I’m hot. Breathless. What the hell? Raising my hand to my throat, I try to swallow.

And struggle. “Oh shit,” I gasp, walking as fast as my suddenly shaky legs will carry me back to the kitchen.

“The Eton Mess,” I say, laboured, pulling Jude’s eyes my way.

One look at me has him dropping the last bit of his sandwich and jumping off his stool so fast, it flies back, hitting the wall. “Are there nuts in the Eton Mess?”

The panic on his face is wild as he rushes to me. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “Fuck, I don’t know. Tell me what to do, Amelia.”

“My bag,” I wheeze, holding on to his forearm, feeling weak and lightheaded. I can’t breathe.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He goes to leave, but comes back, his head not helping him on what’s best to do.

“Go,” I order him, staggering to a stool and sitting, concentrating on breathing, trying not to panic as Jude sprints to the door.

He’s back in a second, throwing my bag on the counter, rummaging through with frantic hands.

“What the fuck am I looking for?” he yells, his panic getting the better of him.

I take over, yanking my bag towards me and slipping my hand into the side pocket, pulling out my EpiPens.

I shove one at Jude, who proceeds to fumble with the protective casing, his big fingers struggling.

He curses repeatedly, and I reach for his arm, squeezing.

I can’t tell him I need him to be cool, but he must see my message.

He inhales, trying to calm himself down, and gets the EpiPen out of the casing.

I take it in my fist, ignoring the pain in my hand to remove the cap at one end, and push it into my thigh until I hear the click, holding it, waiting, counting to three in my head slowly.

I feel my heartbeat immediately slow, my throat opening up and blood coming back to my head.

“Fuck,” Jude whispers, watching me, keeping himself close. I exhale and breathe in, the air hitting my lungs feeling so good. “Did it work? How do you feel? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

“I’m fine,” I wheeze, removing the needle and checking my leg. I fold over the counter, heavy. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. Just give me a second.”

“What?”

“I’ve been here before, Jude.”

“My God.” He comes in behind me, rubbing my back. “What can I do? Tell me what to do.”

“Shut up,” I say, breathless.

“Charming.”

I smile at the sound of his indignance and push myself up, taking in air deeply. “I’m good.”

He snorts his thoughts on that and sits back down next to me, turning my sweaty face to him and wiping my brow. “So, what now?”

“I’ll order another EpiPen with my doctor.”

“That’s it? Surely you need checking?”

“This isn’t my first rodeo.” I smirk, trying to lighten him up. It doesn’t work. “If my symptoms return, then I’ll have to go to the hospital. Trust me, okay? In all the years I’ve managed this, the EpiPen has done its job. I’ve been fine. And, bonus, you get to finish the Eton Mess.”

“Funny, I’ve lost my appetite.” He looks a bit pasty as he pushes the plates away. “And I’m never touching nuts again.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d be scared to kiss you,” he says, and I laugh. “You’re so cool about it.”

“I’ve never had an Eton Mess that contains nuts.”

Jude’s face falls. “I should have checked that. Fuck, I should have checked that.”

I reach for his hand, squeezing. “Don’t stress.”

He laughs, not in humour, and scrubs a hand down his face. I need to distract him from his misplaced guilt, and the text that lands from Abbie is the perfect way.

“We’re having dinner with my friends tomorrow night,” I tell him, allowing a small part of my brain to consider the fact that my friends are obviously keen, but for what reason? To grill him? To accept him? I fear it’s the former, but that might lead to the latter. Might. Can he take the heat?

Jude nods, taking my hand and checking the dressing. “This needs changing.”

“Then change it,” I say, giving him something to do. He looks shook. Dazed. “Jude?”

He gives me sorry eyes. “Please don’t die on me.”

What on earth? My settling heart turns in my chest, and despite not being ready, I get off the stool and put myself between his thighs, wrapping him in my arms. His raw vulnerability kills me.

And once again I think about Evelyn Harrison.

And how Jude hardly ever mentions his father.

“I’m not going to die.” The way he clings to me breaks my heart.

Now feels like the right moment to ask about the pills, but when he pulls away and looks up at me, his face a map of pain, I just can’t bring myself to make him explain.

He’s given me so much today. So I say something else instead, hoping to lift him. “I love you.”

“You came to tell me, didn’t you? The night you found Katherine here.”

I nod, feeling his rough cheeks, scanning every inch of his face.

“I’ve loved you for a while,” he says softly. “I tried to tell you so many times but couldn’t find the words.”

“We got there in the end.”

“It’s not the end.” Picking me up, he carries me back to the bedroom, laying me down and hugging me. “This hug won’t lead to sex,” he mumbles against my neck.

I sigh and sink into the mattress, Jude crowding me. Everything feels so right.

“Amelia?” he whispers.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you too,” I reply quietly. “Always.”