The Near & Far Series

by Serena Clarke

“Hm. Okay, that makes sense.”

  “Is there something to watch on YouTube beforehand?” Cady asked.

  Jennifer shook her head. “No, apparently there’ll be instructions there. We’ve organized the sound system.” She shrugged. “Kyle’s been keeping this one close to his chest, for some reason, working with the sponsor. We’ve been spreading the word, but the only info is the theme of the event, and that people should wear white t-shirts.”

  “It feels weird to just be one of the participants this time,” Shelby commented.

  “It does,” Cady agreed.

  So Kyle had gone from involved in the beginning, to backed right off for Rownville, to backed off yet involved—and secretive—for this one. He was impossible to figure out. Cady wondered if Shelby might find out a bit more, now that she’d been granted access to the upper sanctum, and to the man himself. Well, they’d know everything tomorrow. If he’d found a sponsor, the money worries must be eased, this time round at least. She helped herself to a slice of Hawaiian, tangling the cheesy threads around her finger as she pulled it out of the box.

  Just then, Kyle and the three weasels came down the stairs. They turned down the offer of pizza, armed themselves with beers, and crammed into the seats along the window. With not enough room for them all, one was forced to plop down on the floor. The others laughed and made obvious jokes about the cheap seats.

  Reid turned in his chair, leaned forward on his knees, and joined their conversation, looking for all the world like they were best buddies. Cady suppressed the urge to screw up her nose, and turned to join the conversation the others were having. There were two halves to the bus now, and she knew which half she preferred.

  When everyone had eaten their fill, Cady helped take the boxes into the kitchen. Shelby came too, and pulled her aside.

  “I have to talk to you about something,” she said in a quiet voice, her face aglow. “He wants me to stay with him tonight.”

  Cady looked out through the doorway at Kyle. He adjusted his beanie as he sat engrossed in conversation, talking nineteen to the dozen with Reid and the skinheads and…the other one. (She still hadn’t figured out which one was which.) It was getting harder to see why Shelby was so caught up in him—he was so far from her usual well-groomed, slick, player type. But seeing how excited she was, it was hard to begrudge her this longed-for triumph. There was one thing Cady wasn’t excited about, though.

  “But there’s no room on the bus for me,” she said. “None of those new guys are budging.”

  “I know, I’m so sorry.” She did look a bit regretful. “But I really, really, reaaaally want to stay.” Even at such low volume, her voice burned with intensity.

  “Shel. Seriously?” She tried to keep the whine out of her voice, but this sucked. Okay, all Shelby’s fantasies were coming true, so yay for her. But what was the extra sister supposed to do?

  Shelby gave her a look that combined desperation, determination and pleading. “Maybe Marian…?”

  She sighed. If she ruined this for Shelby, she’d never hear the end of it. Like never, ever. And the rest of the trip wouldn’t be worth doing with a mad, resentful Shelby as passenger. “Okay. No problem. But you owe me.”

  “I know, I know.” She bobbed up and down, showing only a hint of the thrill she was obviously feeling. “Thank you.”

  “Meh,” Cady said. “Off you go. And use some protection, for God’s sake,” she added in a whisper.

  Shelby rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mum,” she replied, turning to go. Then she stopped and turned back. For a second she looked at Cady, her eyes becoming misty, then she said, “I miss her. That lying, cheating, name-changing wench.”

  Cady nodded. “I know.” She felt tears threaten in her own eyes too, so she took hold of Shelby and turned her around. “Go. I’ll see you back here tomorrow.”

  * * *

  With dinner finished, Cady felt like now was the moment to leave. She’d wait to phone Marian until she was off the bus. If there was no room at the inn, so to speak, she’d have to hunt around for somewhere else. But she didn’t feel like doing that in front of everyone, and making a drama out of it. She’d handle it.

  “Okay, that’s me done,” she said, slinging her bag across her chest and pulling her suitcase from the corner. “See you tomorrow, everyone.”

  There were general goodbyes, and then Gavin said, “But where are you going to stay?”

  “I’ll head to Marian’s, where we stayed when we arrived,” she said. “It’s cool.”

  Reid looked up. “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  “Good idea, man,” Gavin said. “Have to keep our transatlantic VIPs safe.”

  He grinned at Cady, and she returned a grateful smile. In the newly altered atmosphere on the bus, his perpetual cheer and silly unnecessary glasses were a shining light.

  Reid took her suitcase and held out an arm for her to go first, and she gave Shelby a last wave before she went out.

  On the street, the evening air was still warm. While Reid leaned against the wall, looking for all the world like an extra in a Rolling Stone magazine photo shoot, she dialed Marian’s number. After a quick explanation, Marian said yes, she could come as soon as she liked.

  “Okay, I’m good,” she told Reid. She double-checked the map on her phone. “I can walk, it’s not far from here. You can get back to your conversation.” She hoped the tone didn’t reflect her distaste for the weasel gang, but she suspected it did, a bit.

  “Are you kidding?” he said. “I’m not letting you go by yourself.”

  She thrilled a little at the determination in his voice. It was nice to have him looking out for her, even just for a few blocks of Mission streets.

  He pulled out the long handle of her case and they set off. In the fading evening, lights from the shops and street lights threw travelling shadows across his face as they walked. The darkness of his beard and hair was matched by the darkness of his eyes in the half-light. He was such an unknown quantity. Why should she be surprised that he seemed so matey with Kyle’s new friends? She didn’t know what kind of friends he had himself. Apart from Gavin, who seemed worlds away from those three.

  “The new guys are…interesting,” she said, too curious to resist.

  He made a non-committal sound. “They’re okay.”

  “You seem to get on well with them.”

  He just shrugged. “I want the whole thing to be a good scene, you know.”

  She persisted, though she knew she probably shouldn’t. “They don’t seem to really, um, fit with the Flashpoint vibe.”

  “Well, it’s not my bus,” he said bluntly, looking fixedly along the street as they walked.

  “But don’t you think...”

  He stopped in his tracks, his jaw set. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s not my bus.”

  She blinked at the harshness in his voice. “Okay, then.”

  They stood in the street for a few moments. What was going on there, to change the Flashpoint tone so radically in such a short time? The new arrivals seemed to have split the bus in two, with Kyle even more detached from the original team. After the joyous fun of Rownville, it was depressingly unpleasant. She felt a niggling worry about leaving Shelby there. At least Gavin was there too, and Tino and the girls.

  But she didn’t say any of that. She stood, waiting, and watched his shoulders relax as the unexpected anger left him. When he was fully back, she gave him a gentle shove. “Come on.”

  He flicked her a tight smile and tipped her suitcase back onto its wheels. Luckily it wasn’t much further to Marian’s, and they covered the distance in silence. Not awkward, but definitely cautious. She knocked on the door, and within a moment Marian flung it open.

  “Hello, gorgeous girl,” she said, pulling Cady in for a hug. “That wayward sister of yours, huh?” Then her eyes widened as she took in Reid standing behind Cady. “Oh, my. Hel-lo sugar.”

  He laughed, brought back to good humor by her admiration. “Hi.”
>
  “Nice work,” she told Cady. “Very nice. Keeping up with Miss Shelby after all.”

  Cady blushed. “Oh, well, you know, it’s…” Oh damn, she could hardly look at Reid, who was standing there with a grin on his infuriatingly handsome face.

  “It is indeed,” Marian said with relish, making Reid laugh again. She stood aside to let them go through. “Okay, come in, come in. You have the same room as before. Here’s the key.”

  “Sorry again about the short notice,” Cady said, taking it from her.

  “Not at all. Glad to help. Nice to see you found yourself some adventure.” She gave them an exaggerated wink. “Go settle in.”

  Reid picked up the suitcase and followed her up the stairs. She was all too aware of him a couple of steps behind her, and below her. She fought the urge to tug her blouse down, to cover more of her butt. She was sure these jeans had gotten tighter since their holiday started.

  She scampered up the last couple of stairs and walked ever-so-slightly sideways as he came after her along the corridor. Then she pushed the key into the old lock and opened the door, and he set the suitcase on the floor in the middle of the room.

  There was a pause then, as they looked at each other. With no more encouragement than his proximity, Cady felt herself begin to breathe more shallowly. Darn it, this was textbook cliché. She glanced over at the beds before she could stop herself, and his eyes followed hers.

  “Which one is yours?” he asked, and her heart started to pound faster. Alone in a room, looking at beds, nowhere else to be…

  “That one,” she said, pointing to where she’d slept on their first San Francisco night. That one, her inner lusty devil echoed. That one. If she thought it enough times, maybe she could will him into thinking about her on it. Them on it. And then, heaven help her, she’d show him what he’d been making her think about since the first day they met.

  He looked at the bed in question. “Okay,” he said. Then he picked up her case and put it on the luggage rack on that side of the room.

  “Oh,” she said. That didn’t work. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Lady Cady.” He gave a little bow, making her smile.

  “Well, I don’t know why I don’t see more of that,” she said, determined to keep on top of things from here on. “The service in this country really is terrible.”

  The expression in his eyes took on a new challenge, and his smile became teasing-crooked as he regarded her. “What kind of service are you missing?” he asked, his voice a tone lower than before.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Maybe it had worked after all. She looked for a smart comeback, but his suggestive gaze was making her blurry in mind as well as body. She stood there staring at him, fully aware that her chest was rising and falling, and her lips had parted. Her tongue ran across her bottom lip, the moisture an echo of the dampness sneaking further below. She breathed in, out. In, out. Screw all this thinking and wondering. It had to be done. It had to. She stepped forward, pressing herself against him, threading her arms around his body. Under his t-shirt, his skin was warm and smooth, just as she’d imagined that night outside the bus. She let her fingers roam up his back, either side of his spine, then down again until they hit the top of his jeans. Then she slipped her fingertips just slightly under the waistband and pulled him against her.

  He let out a breath, half sigh, half groan, and lowered his head. As she stood on tiptoe to meet his lips, her breasts grazed against his chest, and she felt him pressing hard and low against her. The rush of satisfaction she got from knowing she affected him, too, was matched by a rush of pure arousal that filled her head as much as her body. He grabbed her and pulled her even closer, his lips strong on hers, his tongue finding a willing reception as she opened her mouth, her heart, her self to him. But she wanted more, more. She widened her stance as they kissed, wobbling a little as she balanced higher on her toes, trying to stand high enough that he could press between her legs. He knew what she wanted. She felt him bend his knees slightly, just enough so that they connected, and she moaned as she felt the evidence of his desire closer against her. Their combined heat, separated by two infuriating layers of denim, zips getting in the way, felt to her like it must be raising the temperature in the room. The old joke about panty-melting suddenly seemed perfectly feasible. He ground harder against her, his arms hugging her closer and higher, their kiss deepening and redoubling in urgency, until finally they were forced to break for ragged, indrawn breaths.

  He pressed his forehead against hers, holding her gaze. His eyes were heavy-lidded, darkened by widened pupils, and she knew she must look the same. Their deep, unsteady breathing was the only sound, his face the only thing she could see. A strand of his hair tickled her cheek. Or maybe it was her hair tickling his cheek. Right now, she felt so enmeshed with him that she hardly knew which way was up. She closed her eyes, not willing to do anything to break the moment.

  “I have to go,” he said.

  She struggled up from the depths. “Go?” That one small word made no sense at all in her lust-hazy brain. “You can’t stay?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just can’t.”

  Ah. Those three small words did the trick. She was back to reality before he’d finished the apostrophe-t.

  “O-kay,” she said, taking a firm step backward. “Yep.” She ran her fingers through her hair, working to bring her breathing back to normal.

  “Don’t be like that,” he said.

  “Like what? I totally understand. I remember.” She kept her voice steady. “You told me already, so I shouldn’t have…you know.”

  “No, you don’t understand. It’s…” He clenched his fists, frustration at something showing through. “Shit.”

  She might as well know, once and for all. “Is it Jennifer?”

  “What? Jennifer? No.”

  “Oh. Alison said—”

  He shook his head. “Alison says a lot of things.”

  “Oh,” she repeated. “Okay.”

  Her doubt must have been obvious in her voice, because his expression darkened further. “Did you ever see me do anything to lead her on? Anything inappropriate?”

  She thought for a moment. “No. But I think she’s hoping—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. And she’s a nice person, but even if you’re right, I’m not going to feel obliged just because someone’s hoping.”

  Whoa. Was he still talking about Jennifer, or about herself now? She straightened her blouse and stepped around him toward the door, determined to clamber back onto firm ground. “I won’t keep you then.”

  “Don’t talk to me in that extra-British voice,” he said.

  She blushed. “I’m not.” She knew she was.

  “You always sound more prim and posh when you’re annoyed.”

  “I don’t! Oh my God, you’re making this worse. You were the one who said you had to go, remember?” She opened the door. “I’m all sorted here. Thanks for your help. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He sighed, his dark eyes conflicted. “If I could tell you…”

  This mystery was intriguing at first, making him fascinatingly enigmatic. But after two slap-downs—no, three, including on the phone—she had to call enough. She knew the saying. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, what the hell was I thinking? Or a version thereof.

  “Well, you can’t tell me, apparently. So forget about it.”

  Standing there with her hand on the door handle, a big part of her ached to know what was going on in his mind. But the rest of her wanted to get hold of him and shake him, slap him around the head, beat the living I just can’t out of him…and make him stay. Yeah, that’d show him. Kind of.

  “Take this.” He pressed the door opener for the bus into her hand. “I don’t need it tonight, but you might want it tomorrow.”

  She took it, and pointedly opened the door even further. He took the hint and went out. On the other side of the doorway he stopped for
a minute, his hands tucked into his pockets. She averted her eyes, willing him to go before she threw herself at him again. The longer he stood there, tall, dark and insanely hot, the more her resolve weakened.

  “Your sister should be careful.” He paused. “In fact, it would be better if you both got out of here.”

  She swayed backward at his words, a sudden harsh ache in her chest. He couldn’t make it any clearer, unless he literally gave her a stab in the heart. If there was some problem on the bus, he was welcome to tell her. But to go from practically mauling each other, to this cryptic but obvious backpedalling…well, she wasn’t going to waste any more time being tempted to figure it out. To figure him out.

  “Fine,” she said. “I hear you loud and clear.”

  And she shut the door.

  Twenty-Eight

  Cady was used to sleepless nights. She’d had plenty of them with her mum, jumping up when she called out for help in the darkness. Or randomly getting up to check on her in the wee small hours, having jolted awake with a feeling of foreboding. But that night, after Reid left, was the kind of sleepless that sets upon you the minute you lay your head on the pillow.

  It was only as she lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, that she suddenly wondered what he meant about Shelby being careful. Then she started to feel sick, worrying about her there on the bus with the three weasels. With everyone else there too, it would be fine, of course. Wouldn’t it? That same foreboding feeling crept over her, clammy and insistent. Then she was back to reliving the encounter with Reid, from the intoxicating bliss of their kiss, to the miserable ending, and back again.

  By the time she fell properly asleep, it was well toward morning. Then, of course, she was so tired that she slept in, having forgotten to set the alarm on her phone. Marian had stayed away, maybe assuming that Cady still had company. Oh, how she wished she still had company. But not complicated, secretive Reid company. A Reid who would wake her with scattered kisses on the back of her neck, pull her close so that she could feel his morning desire against the curve of her bottom, reach around with searching fingers to rouse the warm, waiting spot between her legs, and…