by Louise Bay
“You think it’s realistic for someone to start at my age?”
“Oh my God, totally. You’re young and you clearly work out.” She glanced away and at the floor. “I mean, you’ll love it.”
I hadn’t worked out much lately, but at least I looked as if I were in good shape, even if I didn’t feel it.
I’d never had a conversation with Fiona other than about work. I’d not considered her existence outside of these four walls, but clearly she was passionate about what she was talking about.
“Any words of wisdom on where to start?”
She leaned across my keyboard and started tapping away. I sat back in my chair and moved slightly. “Here,” she said. “Try this website. If I were you, I’d start with a sprint, and see how you get on.”
“Wow, fifteen miles is a sprint?” It sounded more and more brutal.
She clicked on several menus and scrolled through the site, pulling up a spreadsheet. “Start with a training plan, but don’t be afraid to change the one you come up with. The first time you don’t really know left from right. You’re a big guy, and you look fit, but . . .” A blush bloomed across her cheeks, and she moved away from the keyboard, but continued to stare at the screen. “But you don’t know how your body’s going to react. I could take a look at your plan if you want me to. Perhaps give you some ideas of where to train.”
“That would be great, thanks,” I said through a grin. “It would be good to have someone to talk this shit through with. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Okay, well, email me your plan when you have it, and I’ll take a look. We could go for coffee sometime and look over it.” She shrugged “But I’m sure you’ll be—”
“Let’s grab some time on Friday maybe?” Putting a triathlete in front of me was like the universe telling me I was on the right track. What had been a vague idea thirty minutes ago was firming up to be a realistic proposition. Having someone help me get started was just what I needed.
“After work?” I had back-to-back meetings on Friday.
“Yeah, sounds good.” Fiona grinned and began to head off. Before she got to the door, she froze.
“You came to talk about the Nigelson, case, didn’t you?” I laughed.
She slapped her forehead and spun to face me. “I did. I came to drop this off,” she said, handing me the bunch of papers tucked under her arm. “It’s the environmental report you asked for. I’ve emailed you my analysis, but thought you might want to see the original.”
“Thanks, that’s great. I thought it would take longer.” She managed to get through work like a machine.
“Oh, I had some free time, so I got to it sooner than I expected.” She smiled and turned to leave. “See you Friday.”
Finally, things were coming together. The flat. The triathlon. Even catching up with Adam. I was getting on with my life, just as Ashleigh had wanted me to. But I couldn’t help thinking everything would feel a little better if she were here to share it.
Ashleigh
Richard suggested a quick bite before the play, and I couldn’t see a reason to say no. It would be good to have a distraction. At least I’d managed to get a seat on the bus. I had my book in my bag, but I couldn’t bring myself to read at the moment. Everything on my e-reader was about couples bound to have a happily ever after. I was too concerned about whether or not I was going to get mine to read about anyone else’s. As usual, I was lost in thoughts of Luke.
When would I see him again? Haven had cancelled Sunday night dinner, making up some crazy excuse about her hairdresser. I knew she’d intended to give Luke and me a little breathing space, and I was grateful, but I missed him so much.
Haven had mentioned he’d moved, and I wanted to hear every last detail. Hell, I wanted to see the place for myself. I didn’t want to miss another Sunday dinner together. It wasn’t that I’d changed my mind. More that I still wanted to be his friend, have a presence in his life while he decided what he wanted. Because, if he didn’t want me, I needed to know we were still going to be friends, still be part of each other’s worlds.
The bus stopped, and I watched as people filed off, creating room for those queuing at the front. I managed to scramble out just before the doors shut. I’d zoned out and not taken in that I’d reached my destination. I really shouldn’t be responsible for people’s healthcare needs at the moment—I could barely get off a bus at the right time. Thankfully, the restaurant was just a few yards away from the stop. I checked my watch. I was only ten minutes late.
I spotted Richard immediately, and relaxed as he smiled and waved. I handed my coat to the hostess.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” I said as I neared the table.
“No worries.” He stood and kissed me on the cheek. “I ordered some wine. Is that okay?”
“There’s never going to be a time in my life when I say no to wine, just for the record.”
“Maybe when you get stuck in your MBA. You won’t be able spend all your free time buzzed. How’s the application going?”
It was a surprise that he asked me. He hadn’t seemed very interested when we were dating. “Good. I sit the entrance exam in a month and start in January if I get in.”
“I’m sure you will. You’re clever. They’d be lucky to have you apply.”
His response was far from what I’d expected. I raised my eyebrows.
“You are,” he said. “All the doctors say so.”
“They do? You talk about me? Us?”
“Of course we do. Are you telling me you don’t talk about us?”
“Nurses are far too busy and professional. Doctors,” I said, swirling my index finger in his direction, “are clearly a bunch of underemployed gossips.”
Richard chuckled. “Well I don’t know about the underemployed thing, but I’ll cop to the gossip bit. And actually the blokes are much worse than the women.”
I rolled my eyes.
“What?” He held his hands up.
“You say that like it’s a total shock that men are just as gossipy as women. You’re a nice guy, but sometimes I want to slap you about the head.”
“Why? I was being nice and saying that women aren’t the gossips you might expect.”
I started to laugh. “Holy crap. I despair. And you don’t see that by doing that you’re reinforcing the stereotype? It’s not a compliment.”
He stopped suddenly, as if I’d pressed pause, his hand hovering over his wineglass. He blinked once, twice and pursed his lips. “Jesus, you’re right. Fuck. You see. I said you were clever.”
“I know I’m clever, but thank you.” I grinned.
“Have I done that stuff before, you know, like when we were dating?” His eyes were the size of saucers, as if I were Galileo telling him the earth moved round the sun.
I shrugged. “Maybe. Once or twice.”
“God, I’m sorry.” I’d forgotten he could be funny. My life would be a lot easier if I’d have just been able to fall in love with him.
“It’s fine, but now that we’re friends, I’m calling you out on that shit.”
“Excellent,” he said, slapping his hand on the table. “Like my dating coach. Making me better for the next one, whoever that might be.” He tried to hold my stare, but I looked away. It was my own fault if he made a pass at me. I’d agreed to go out with him again, after all. Even if we’d been clear we were just friends.
I laughed to break the tension. “Maybe. Now pour me some more wine.”
“If you start snoring in the theater, I’m going to pretend I’m not with you.”
“I can live with that. Besides, I’m not concerned. Bradley Cooper can normally hold my attention.” I gave him a smile and picked up my menu.
Two weeks later, I shuffled back and forth on my barstool, then hopped off and started fiddling with it.
“You can’t adjust the height. Here, drink this, you’ll feel better,” Haven said, setting a full glass in front of me on the breakfast bar.
I retoo
k my seat and gulped down half my wine. My heart pulsed in my chest, and I kept rubbing my hands up and down my jeans to wipe the sheen of sweat from them. I’d never been nervous about seeing Luke before. What if he looked at me and anything he’d felt for me had fallen away? What if he saw me and realized he didn’t find me attractive? I mean, he’d spent years not wanting me—it would be easy for him to shut those feelings off, wouldn’t it?
Beth was peeling mushrooms, and Jake was carrying a decanter in one hand and seemed to be aimlessly wandering around with it. I couldn’t concentrate on anything in the room right now.
A bang in the hallway sent my heart crashing out of my ribcage. It was him.
“Hey,” he said, panting as he walked in. He bent forward, resting his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He had a small backpack on and was dressed in running gear. The tips of his hair were damp with sweat, and his beautiful golden skin glowed. Had he run here?
“You look disgusting,” Haven said.
He looked anything but. At that moment, I’d be quite happy to lick him clean.
“Cheers. I’ve been exercising. What’s your excuse?” he asked as he stood up straight and grinned at his sister. I let myself giggle. I might want to trail my tongue over his entire body, but he was still the man I’d been friends with my whole life. Someone who could make me laugh within seconds of arrival.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off him. Apparently, the après exercise look suited him. His shirt clung to him, the outline of his six-pack clearly visible as he began to stretch out his quads. Seriously? Snapshots of him naked and over me, his eyes closed as he pushed into me, filtered into my brain. I turned away from him and took another gulp of wine, concentrating on the stem of the glass as I put it down.
Out of the corner of my eye, Luke hovered in the doorway. “I’m going to take a shower, okay?” He slipped the backpack off and headed down the corridor.
“I should hope so, Sweaty Betty,” Jake said, unscrewing a bottle of red wine.
Had he deliberately arrived, full of testosterone, looking invincible and physically perfect? Damn him. It was all I could do not to touch the back of my hand to my forehead and full-on swoon. If he’d been trying to show me what I’d been missing, he’d done an excellent job.
Luke
Pleased to have an excuse to leave the kitchen, I steadied myself on the bathroom sink. I should have prepared mentally for seeing Ashleigh. She’d looked so relaxed, perched on the barstool as if it were just another Sunday dinner. Maybe it was for her. But I felt an enormous pull toward her, a keen desire to touch her, kiss her, hold her. Even though I’d not stood close to her, I could see the flush of her first glass of wine across her cheeks. My dick stirred at the image scorched across my mind. She was wearing her favorite jeans and a top I hadn’t seen before. Jesus, her ass. I turned the dial of the shower to cold—I needed to get my thoughts back into the box marked appropriate, but I wasn’t sure there was a setting for arctic.
I showered quickly, pulled on some clothes, roughly towel-dried my hair, and went to join everyone back in the kitchen.
Beth stood with her back to me, and I placed a hand on her arm. She turned and I kissed her on the cheek. “Hi,” I said as I accepted a beer from Jake. Ash was next. I had to greet her with a hug as I always did, but my limbs felt heavy, my joints sticky.
“Hey you,” I said, moving toward her. She slipped off the stool and the thought of being about to touch her was almost too much. I had to suck in a breath.
“Hey,” she replied as her hands smoothed over my shoulders and mine slid up her back. Her sweet, sexy scent surrounded me. It reminded me of home, of being happy, of summers spent beneath the magnolia trees in my parents’ gardens. I pressed my hands against her back briefly and then released her. Our bodies parted, but I felt a pull toward her when I was close to her. I wanted to keep touching her.
Ignoring my instinct to pull her back into my arms, I strode across to Haven and placed a kiss on her cheek.
“Did you bring the wine?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. Here.” I grabbed the wine off the console table in the hallway.
Get it together, Luke. You’ve know this girl your whole life. Act normal.
“So what’s been going on?” I handed the bottle to Haven.
“You’re the one that arrived in need of a shower. What’s going on with you?” Beth asked.
I took a swig of my beer. “I’m training for a triathlon.”
“What the fuck?” Jake’s exclamation was loud and clear, but I was too busy not looking at Ashleigh to hear Beth and Haven. Ashleigh stayed quiet. Normally she’d be teasing me relentlessly about an early midlife crisis or something.
I sat on one of the barstools, leaving an empty seat between Ashleigh and me.
“So when’s the competition?” Jake asked.
“Not sure yet. Fiona thinks that I shouldn’t commit to a specific race until I’m a few weeks into training.”
Haven held me with her stare. “Who’s Fiona?” she asked.
“A girl at work who does triathlons. She’s helping me with my training as she’s really into this stuff. She’s looking at my plan.” Things had happened quickly now I had someone to give me an idea of what I should be doing. “We went running earlier in the week. She’s fucking fast. Small but deadly.” I grinned. “I need to get some new kit though. I’ll obviously need one of those suits. Whatever Fiona recommends. She really knows her stuff.”
“Good for you, dude. I’ll come for the odd run if you like.” Jake offered.
I nodded. “Sounds good. Fiona said that I needed to commit to training four times a week, but that’s going to go up as my fitness improves.” When I’d broken it down, I’d realized it was going to be quite a fair chunk of my free time, so I was going to have to fit it in where I could, which led to me running over to Sunday dinner.
“Sounds like Fiona is taking a keen interest in your well-being,” Haven said.
I shrugged and glanced at Ashleigh, who was staring into her wineglass as if she weren’t included in the conversation. Was she pleased that I was trying new things? Living my life? I wanted to interrogate her about her two weeks without me. Ask her if finding a place to live and starting to train for a triathlon was what she wanted. Was she happy? Had she been thinking about me?
“What about everyone else? Saved the world yet, Jake?” I asked.
Do you miss me like I miss you, Ashleigh?
“That’s on the agenda for next week,” Jake replied.
“Big news is we’re planning a trip to Chicago,” Haven said. “We’re all going.” She swept her arm around, indicating herself, Jake and Beth.
“Yeah, you might have to actually cook the Sunday we’re away. Try not to give Ash food poisoning.” Jake said.
“Can you believe it?” Ashleigh finally looked at me. “They’re going on holiday without us.” She tilted her head to one side and pushed out her bottom lip, as if she was almost flirting. She looked so goddamn cute. I wanted to bite that swollen bottom lip of hers.
“I’ve said you can come,” Haven said.
“Nah. Chicago in October?” Ashleigh scrunched up her nose. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I thought you were a gazillionaire, Jake. Can’t you take us all to Aruba?”
Jake grinned. “Next trip.”
I relaxed as I settled into the banter between us. It was nice. Familiar. I was happy to let the sounds of my family’s chatter surround me, rather than actively participate. I hopped off my stool and grabbed the wine from the fridge. First, I topped up Haven then rounded the counter, looking for permission to do the same for Ashleigh. She held the bottom of her glass with the flat of her hand and pushed it across the granite toward me. I tilted the bottle and placed my hand on the counter next to the glass, my fingers overlapping hers. I hadn’t planned to touch her, but I couldn’t be so close to her and not.
I needed to feel her heat.
Her mouth parted, and the redness in he
r cheeks deepened as her glance flickered from Haven to me. My chest tightened at the idea that the touch of my fingers could illicit such a reaction. I hadn’t lost her, not yet. Her glass ended up fuller than it should have been, and I moved away. I turned from the fridge to find her watching me. She looked away sharply, nodding at whatever Haven was saying. I watched the floor on the way back to my seat in an effort to cover the grin spread across my face.
“I’m going to have to go.” I looked at my watch. “I have an early morning run booked in tomorrow.” It was almost ten and although that wasn’t late, every moment I spent out of bed from here on out made it less and less likely that I’d keep to my training plan.
“Yeah, me too. Well, not the running thing, God forbid.”
Ashleigh grinned at me. Over the course of the evening, we had somehow found a way to be around each other without it feeling anything but normal. I’d caught her looking at me a couple of times when she thought I wouldn’t notice. I’d seen it because I was trying to steal my own private glances. She always averted her eyes quickly.
“Walk me to the tube?” she asked. It was our usual routine, but this time the question felt loaded. My pulse began to hammer in my neck. Time alone with her. I was desperate for it, but terrified she’d say something I didn’t want to hear. The air was thick with what we weren’t saying, and we avoided each other’s gaze as Haven ushered us both out, barely allowing us to say our goodbyes.
“I’ll call you about training,” I called to Jake as Haven shut the door, leaving Ashleigh and I alone.
I stared at my shoes, my hands shoved in my pockets, as we waited for the elevator. I could barely stop from reaching for her.
“You seem good. About Emma and moving and . . .”
I watched her as she kept her eyes fixed on the chrome doors, as if she was trying to stay in control.
“I am good. About Emma and moving.” I tried to be as specific as I could. I wasn’t okay being without her, but I held myself back from telling her that. I didn’t want to push.