by Sofia Grey
“Uh... no.” He glanced up long enough to take the offered drink, and then stared away, this time into the depths of his mug. “Thing is, they made me a bit high.”
Oh God. He said that last night too, and I thought he was messing about. He didn’t regret this, did he?
Jasper looked me in the eye, before staring back into his coffee. “We shouldn’t have slept together.”
Ding. An imaginary gameshow host applauded my correct answer.
“We shouldn’t?” What about all the lovely things he said? How he wanted me? Found me sexy?
“No. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
He could have slapped me in the face, and it wouldn’t have stung more. “So you only fucked me last night because you got high on my painkillers? Thanks.”
I was hot with anger, my hands trembling, but as much as I wanted to hurl my coffee at him, I longed to run away and hide. Preferably for a few years.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
Crying in front of him wasn’t an option. I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks, and scoffed at his words. “Really? That’s exactly how it sounded.”
“Caitlin.” He placed the mug on the floor, pushed himself to a standing position, and groped for his stick. Finally, he looked at me. What on earth did he see? Saggy tits without a bra, bedhead hair, and marshmallow thighs? Not my best in the harsh morning light.
“I didn’t mean that.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Whatever you think. It was good last night.”
“I can feel a but coming.”
He huffed. “I’m leaving in a few weeks. The last thing I want to do is get involved with anyone. I told you I’m still messed up from Cindy, and in some ways you remind me of her.”
“Was she a lardarse as well?”
He narrowed his eyes, and pointed at me. “There, that’s exactly what I mean. She had hang-ups about her looks and was never satisfied. No matter what I told her or how stunning she was, she didn’t believe me. And it got old real quick.”
I should have thrown him out at that point, but dumbass that I was, I wanted to cling to him a little longer. Maybe he wasn’t good at articulating himself first thing in the morning? “And you think I’m the same?”
“I’m sorry, Caitlin. I won’t go through that level of head-fuckery again. Not for you, not for anyone.”
Standing there half-dressed, my dignity might have flown out the window, but I still had my pride. I lifted my chin, clutched the coffee to my chest, and waited a moment until I could speak without my voice trembling. “It was just sex, Jasper.” I forced a casual shrug. “What’s your problem?”
His eyes darkened, but he stayed silent.
Well, that was his opportunity to tell me I was wrong—that it was more than just sex—but he didn’t. When would I learn? One drop of attention, and I lapped it up, pathetically grateful for the merest hint of a compliment. I stood no chance against a full-on seduction from the likes of Jasper. I’d been putty in his hands.
We stood in my bedroom, swept along in a tsunami of awkwardness. Nothing in my limited experience could suggest how to deal with this situation—the one-night-stand who couldn’t wait to escape, but needed a ride home. Was I mature enough to spend an hour in the car with him without resorting to tears? Probably not.
When my phone burst into life in the kitchen, I grabbed the interruption with relief. It was the realtor, inviting me to view the property in an hour. My yes was fervent.
I turned around to see Jasper, but this time I knew what to say. “I have another location to look at. I’ll check if the trains are running, and if they are, I can drop you off at the station.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I talked over him. “I’m going to be busy today. I’m sure you don’t want to tag along behind me.”
Too late, I realized my barb was double-edged.
Jasper scowled. “I’d hate to slow you down. The train is fine.”
“I’ll get dressed, and then I can take you across town.”
“Don’t bother.” He snatched up his jacket. “I may look like a cripple, but I can get to the station by myself.”
How did we get to this point? Last night was beyond wonderful, but in the space of a few minutes, we were ripping each other to shreds. Did I hurt him as badly as he hurt me? It wasn’t my intention.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and silently counted to five. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound rude.”
A beat later, he replied, his voice low. “I’m sorry too.” He hesitated. “See you, Caitlin.” Without a backward glance, he limped to the door and let himself out.
Chapter Twenty-one
I didn’t know whether to scream in frustration or shrug away the argument and write it off to experience. Neither was an option. I went into the bedroom and sank onto the bed, phone tight in my hand. Jasper’s abandoned coffee sat on the floor, the fragrance mingling with the faintly musky scent from our lovemaking.
Our fucking. We fucked. There was no love involved.
I couldn’t bear either smell to linger. I threw both coffees down the sink, and then stripped the bed and shoved the bedding into the washing machine. By the time I came out of the shower, I’d have washed away the last traces of Jasper. My one-night failure.
Twenty minutes later, I was fresh and clean, my hair was neatly tied back, and I wore what I thought of as my business outfit—a flattering black knee-length dress. Makeup came next, and then my single pair of smart boots. I’d wow the agent with my professional attitude. My focus was one hundred percent aimed on getting my catering business back on track. No last thoughts of Jasper.
I couldn’t think of the orgasms he gave me. The way he whispered my name against my ear, his lips brushing my skin and sending shivers down my spine.
No. Better to remember his guilt-wracked expression when he said we shouldn’t have slept together. How I reminded him of his ex. I mean—that was such bad etiquette in dating, to compare your current with your ex.
We weren’t dating. Not even close. “One-night fuckup,” I said aloud. It wasn’t as though I needed to see him again. I’d go back to my rental and clear out my stuff. The holiday was over.
Did he make it to the station okay? It was raining again, but this time it was a persistent drizzle. There weren’t many buses on a Sunday, and it would be a horrible walk across town in this weather for an able-bodied person, let alone someone relying on a stick. He wasn’t a cripple, and I hadn’t meant to imply that, but he was certainly not swift on his feet at the moment.
Fuck it. I couldn’t leave him to struggle. I didn’t have his phone number or Holly’s, but if I drove toward the railway station, I might see him.
There was no sign of him, despite my slow circuits around the main streets. He might have gone down one of the pedestrian-only routes or ducked into a café, or even hailed a cab.
With my guilty conscience shouting at me, I did one last search, and then turned around and headed for the property I was viewing.
Was I swift to jump to conclusions? Too quick to assume the worst of him? Maybe. I was so conditioned to seeing myself as unattractive, that from the moment he showed any interest in me, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for him to chuckle and say it was all a joke. That he’d never in a million years see me as sexy. That would have hurt, but I could have laughed it off—at least on the outside.
My painkillers messed with his head. Perhaps they’d been the pharmaceutical equivalent of beer goggles?
What did his ex look like? And why did I care?
I parked outside the building and checked the time. Five minutes early. I opened the Facebook app on my phone and typed Jasper. I didn’t know what his surname was, and too many hits came up to search through quickly. How else could I find him? An internet search gave me the name of the gym in the little town nearest his house, and there I hit pay-dirt—a picture of the two owners, Jasper and Andy. Both wore loose fitting shorts and T-shirts, and they
grinned into the camera, looking fit and healthy. Jasper looked so sexy, I broke out in a hot flush.
When I clicked on his name, I found his public profile. His surname—Clarke—and his Facebook account.
There wasn’t time to look at it now. I gazed into the rear-view mirror and smoothed back my hair, then dashed into the rain to meet the agent.
At last. A catering unit that was clean and spacious, in a good part of the city. Apart from the rental costs and the high down-payment, it was perfect. Could I afford it? Since it was the best option on the table, I’d have to.
“I’ll take it.” I gave the realtor my most confident smile. “I can get the down-payment tomorrow, when the banks open, or I can do an online transaction now. Which would you prefer?”
“Tomorrow is fine. I’ll email you the paperwork to take a look at. Come into my office to go through any questions. Any time after noon is fine.”
We swapped business cards and shook on the deal. I was tempted to hug him, although that would have put the fear of God into the poor guy. Nobody in their right mind liked random hugs.
I went back to my car, dancing on air. I wanted to celebrate, but with whom? I called Deanna, but it went to voicemail. My parents knew nothing of this latest crisis, and neither did my friends. I thought of Holly and Jasper, and remembered my earlier cyber-stalking.
I clicked on Jasper’s Facebook link. He had hundreds of friends and followers, and I scrolled through them. There was only one Cindy, but she had both a private and a public profile. She couldn’t have been more different to me. Her private account was locked down, but her public profile had a glamorous headshot of a gorgeous blonde. With her lips in a sultry pout and hair tousled around her face, the term sex kitten could have been coined for her.
She was an actress, and had appeared in several New Zealand movies, and had a small part in a popular Hollywood-made drama series. This was Jasper’s ex? The one who subjected him to headfuckery and left him gun shy of getting involved with anyone?
There had to be some mistake. I flicked back to the browser and typed her name and Jasper’s. I immediately wished I hadn’t.
The first picture I found was her and Jasper kissing on a beach, the sun setting behind them. It was a wide shot and showed writing in the damp sand at their feet. Jassy & Cindy #TrueLove.
He belonged with someone like Cindy. A super-slim girl that would go running with him and work out for hours in the gym without breaking a sweat. She was probably into yoga too, and could bend herself into a pretzel when they had sex.
I blew out a breath. Thinking of Jasper and sex in the same sentence was not a good idea. I stared at the photo on my phone. Jassy? It made him sound like a radio presenter.
Gah. Every time I closed my eyes, this image would haunt me. She was beyond beautiful, and it made last night seem even more ludicrous. Pill goggles, for sure, and the sooner I stopped thinking about him the better.
Chapter Twenty-two
I took refuge from the rain in my favorite waterfront café. From here, I could watch the clouds whipping across the sky—one minute gray, the next black. The ever-shifting patterns matched my mood. Relief that I had new premises. Worry at the cost to complete the fit out for my needs. Excitement that I was back in business. Anxiety at the effort needed to relaunch. Nagging fear that I wouldn’t be able to cover the increase in rent.
While I waited for my almond croissant and mochachino to arrive, I dug out my phone again. Who to share the good news with?
I called Mum. She picked up on the third ring, sounding slightly alarmed—her usual reaction to unexpected calls.
“Kitty-kat. What’s up? I’m on my way out. Eric’s leading a day-walk today for the local tramping club, and I’m meeting them at the halfway point with refreshments.”
Unbidden, Bruce’s voice echoed inside my head. It’s hiking, not tramping. Brought up in England, he never understood the New Zealand preoccupation for hiking through the bush, the wild countryside that covered most of the hills. I was inclined to agree. Given the choice of sitting in a warm café, dry and safe, or fighting through torrential rain on an exposed hillside? No contest. My parents were addicts, though.
“Ah... Nothing. I just wanted to catch up. I’m moving premises, with my cake business.” Silence met my words, and I hastened to fill the gap. “My old store is closed, for earthquake strengthening.”
“That’s nice.” Nice? Did she hear what I said? “Sorry, lovie, but I have to go. I don’t want to be late.”
“There was an invasion of elephants, too.” I said the first thing that popped into my mind, to see if she was listening.
Too late. She’d disconnected.
“Elephants?” The waitress stared at me, a puzzled expression on her face. She was about my age, but slender to the point of waif-ness. She not only had a thigh gap between her legs, she had an entire continent between them. Her closefitting T-shirt accentuated her narrow waist and flat stomach, whereas that outfit on me would make me look like—yes—an elephant.
“Private joke,” I mumbled. “Thank you.”
She glanced at the buttery pastry in front of me, and darted her gaze to my stomach. Dear God. I couldn’t wait for her to go. She was judging me on my food choice.
With a faint attempt at defiance, I picked up the pastry and bit into it. Crumbs showered over me, and disappeared down my cleavage. Great. All I needed now was to throw the hot drink into my lap, to complete the picture.
I swallowed. “On second thought,” I said, before she could leave, “can I take this to go, please?”
I strode outside a minute later, breakfast clutched in my hands, and my mood plummeting further with every step. I dumped the croissant in the first trash can I came to, and after taking a long slurp of the drink, abandoned that too. Nothing like a spot of fat-shaming, to remind me of my attempt to diet.
By the time I arrived back at my apartment, I was soaked from the rain, my hair was windswept, and my smart dress was damp and crumpled. Bloody Wellington weather. I should bite the bullet and head up to Auckland instead, to enjoy their almost-tropical climate. It would be a bigger market to crack, but with more competition and higher prices for property.
Maybe I’d update my website today, and not just with the new location. I had more pictures to upload to my gallery, and a couple of extra reviews to add. That meant going back to Kapiti. I’d left my laptop in the rental cottage.
I checked the local news on my phone and found the highway slip had been cleared. After a change of clothes, I returned up the coast.
Two and a half hours later, after what should have been an hour’s drive, I walked into my holiday home. I hoped to see a note pinned to the door or lying on the outside table, telling me Jasper returned in one piece, but there was nothing.
The trains appeared to be running to their usual timetable, and there was no reason to assume he was still in Wellington, but I had to go to his place, to check. Guilt stabbed at me. He was in such pain last night. Walking to the station wouldn’t have helped.
Holly’s car was parked in the driveway, so someone was home. A cacophony of woofs sounded when I knocked on the door, and Holly answered moments later.
“Hi.” She peered behind me. “Jas not with you?”
My heart sank. “No. He was taking the train back. I had stuff to do in town.”
“Oh. Okay.” She stepped back, one hand holding back the dog at her side. “Come in. Please. I need a referee.”
I eyed the hound, and it glared back at me, drool escaping from its mouth. Did it see me as an early dinner? “Will, you please hold onto that one?” I gestured at the beast. “And where’s the other?”
Holly’s lips twitched. “They have names,” she said, fighting a laugh. “Gwen and Lily. They’re more likely to lick you to death than bite, but I’ll put them in the yard. Wait here.”
Sure enough, she was back within seconds. “All clear. Come in. I’m stuck in a tricky situation, you see. Jasper’s ex came to s
ee him, and despite my hints and suggestions, she refuses to leave.”
Oh no. I dug my heels into the carpet. Super-glamorous Cindy? Possibly the last person I could face. “I don’t know,” I said.
Holly grabbed my arm. “I hardly know her. Just stay a little while. Or tell her Jas isn’t coming back for hours. That’d work too.”
Cindy was even more perfect in person. I could imagine her picture on Instagram, with the caption, heartbreakingly fragile. She looked as though a strong puff of wind would knock her over. It was laughable that I reminded Jas of his ex.
I wanted to hate her. To resent the way she’d fucked him over, but it was hard. She greeted me with a wobbly smile, and looked genuinely interested when Holly introduced me as Caitlin Mortimer, the most imaginative cake baker in the region.
“Caitlin’s Cakes?” Cindy’s voice was low and husky. Of course it would be. No squeaky voice would befall this vision of loveliness. I wanted to melt into the carpet and apologize for my very existence. “You do those lovely cupcake mountains. I’ve seen them at parties.”
Seen them, not eaten them. She probably felt full after a single lettuce leaf. I wanted to slap myself for my bitchiness, and I groped for something polite to say. “That’s right. It’s one of my specialties.”
“Jas is still in town, we think.” Holly spoke brightly. “He spent the night at Caitlin’s.”
Cindy’s smile disappeared. She widened her eyes and stared at me. “Are you and Jassy together?”
“God no.” My heart thumped so hard, they could probably both hear it. “Just friends. You know. There was a slip on the highway. He needed somewhere to stay.” So he fell into my bed. “And he said he was coming back later.”
“I haven’t heard him mention you before.” A hint of steel underpinned the huskiness.
“We only met a few days ago.” They were still on speaking terms, then.
She sharpened her gaze, and I felt like an insect under a microscope. “I see.”
What did she see? I wanted to ask, but my need to escape was greater. “I have to go.” I turned on my heel, ready to flee, as the door opened and Jasper walked in.