by G. Bailey
I get up and go to follow her, but I suddenly feel sick. Instead of walking any further, I open the door to the bathroom near me and run to the nearest toilet. I don’t know how long I’m puking before I feel a warm hand rubbing my back and pulling stray bits of hair away from my face.
“Here,” I hear Harley say to me before he passes me some tissue, and I wipe my mouth as I stand up.
Harley surprises me by taking my hand and nodding his head toward the bathroom door. He walks us out and straight to his office, opening it for me. I walk in and look around at the massive, wooden desk and the big chair behind it, there is a bookcase and a filing cabinet also in the room. This is an impressive office.
Harley walks over to the mini fridge on top of the filing cabinet after shutting the office door, getting out a bottle of water for me.
“Here.” He offers it to me, and I nod, accepting the drink as he pulls out the chair by the desk.
“Please sit, Tilly,” he says, and I do, only because I still feel like crap.
Harley sits on the end of the desk, watching me closely, his mind no doubt figuring things out as I drink the water slowly.
“I think–”
“Don’t. Please don’t say anything you think you know or say it out loud. I just can’t–” I mutter, interrupting him. I look down at the ground and stay still as silence fills the room.
“Why are you running, Tilly?” he asks me gently.
“Because I don’t want to remember,” I answer quietly, lifting my head to meet his gaze.
“I understand that.”
“How can you? How can you be so scared of your past that you can’t even say the words out loud? That you can’t even think about it without shaking or wanting to run,” I end up snapping out, and he tilts his head to the side as we stare at each other.
“Because my past keeps me up at night, too,” he tells me, shocking me into silence as I see the truth in his eyes.
“Hey, bro,” a voice shouts as the office door is slammed open, and I turn to see a man walking in. This must be Sebastian, as he looks so much like Elliot but less wild.
Sebastian has a suit on, his hair is cut short, and his jaw is close shaved. He gives us both a cheeky smile. “And you must be Tilly. Izzy has been telling me about you and your unexpected arrival,” he says.
“You’re Sebastian, right?” I ask, and he nods.
“The good-looking brother.” He points a finger at his chest, making me laugh.
“The brother who has his own office,” Harley points out, and Sebastian only grins.
“Was I interrupting something?”
“No, but Tilly isn’t feeling well so I’m going to take her home,” Harley says.
“I’m fine now,” I say, standing up and walking around the desk, but Harley catches my arm, stopping me.
“You sure?” he asks, his thumb rubbing circles on my arm.
It is comforting, and I find myself leaning into him a little. “Certain,” I reply, and he lets go after a second’s pause. “Nice to meet you, Sebastian,” I say as he opens the door for me, nodding.
I walk out of the office and go back to my desk. The rest of the day goes quickly and, before I know it, it’s time for us to close up.
“Hey, Tilly, my wife, Maisy, is making dinner and she invited Harley and you to come. She would love to meet you,” Sebastian says as he comes out of his office, just as I walk down the corridor toward Harley’s office.
“I don’t know . . .” I say as I watch Harley come out of his office, locking the door.
“Come on, Maisy makes amazing food, and Jake loves to meet new people,” Sebastian says, tilting his head to the side as he looks at Harley and me.
“I guess I can,” I say just as Harley gets to us, his eyes locked with mine.
“How are you feeling?” he asks me straight away.
“I’m good now,” I tell him.
“Was it just a morning thing?” Harley asks, making my heart pound when I know he is onto what is going on with me. I should just tell him, but I can’t seem to make the words come out of my mouth. Let alone, even think the words to say them.
“Yes,” I say, giving him the answer he wants without saying another word, and he nods, his eyes moving down my body.
Thankfully, Sebastian starts talking and I can look away from Harley’s luring, green eyes when they meet mine. The unspoken word just seems to burn between us.
“Tilly said she is coming to dinner with us. I’m sure you won’t disagree with that.” Sebastian pats Harley’s arm and walks off.
“Meet you two there,” Sebastian adds over his shoulder, and neither I nor Harley move.
I don’t know what to say to him, or how to say anything. I feel like any chance of him liking me just went flying out the window, and I’m expecting to see a Harley-sized hole in the front door.
“Come on.” He sighs after a second of me overthinking everything, shocking me again when he slides his hand into mine as he leads us out of the gym.
“Why are you holding my hand?” I ask him.
“Why are you not letting go?” he responds, and I choose not to answer that as I look away.
I wait for him to lock the doors, and then we get into his car after he unlocks it. The drive out of town is quiet, and I don’t feel like saying anything as I just watch him drive. How can someone drive so sexily? Just watching the way he turns the wheel and the way his muscles in his arms flex as he changes gears is beyond hot. I’ve never noticed that about anyone before, but here I am, staring at a man driving.
I’ve never had anyone walk into my life and make me feel safe around them, but I feel that way around him. He makes me feel safe, he makes me feel like my past can’t haunt me.
We eventually pull into a driveway not far out of town, and a barn conversion house appears at the end. The barn is lit by little solar lights under the windows, and there are two cars parked at the side, which Harley parks next to. I get out my side at the same time as Harley, who seems to just be watching me for something, gets out of his. I almost like that he doesn’t demand an answer from me.
“Har-har,” is shouted from the door by a wriggling, little boy in the arms of Sebastian.
The little boy has wavy, black hair and a cute, little face. He is dressed in jeans and a white top with a car on it. He is so sweet and loud. How can someone so small be shouting so loud?
“Hey, Jake,” Harley says as he picks Jake up from Sebastian, and Jake wraps his little arms around Harley’s neck and hugs him. Jake rests his head on his shoulder and looks at me, making me smile, and I stick my tongue out at him, which makes him giggle.
“How old is he?” I ask Sebastian.
“Ten months,” he tells me, waving a hand inside the house. “Come in, it’s cold out here.”
I walk in and slide my heels off as Harley takes his shoes off.
“This way,” Sebastian says, and I follow him through the house.
There’s a small, cosy-looking lounge and then a dining room before we get to the kitchen, where a girl my age is pulling something out of the oven. She places a tray of what looks like enchiladas down and puts the stove mitts down as she turns to smile at me.
“You must be Tilly,” she says, walking over and pulling me into a hug.
I’m a little shocked at her friendly introduction, but I don’t mind a hug so I return it. When she leans back, I can’t help but think how unfair it is that she has had a baby and is pregnant again and looks amazing. Her long, black hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s wearing casual clothes, which show off the tiny, little bump she has.
“I have to say, you look amazing for someone who is pregnant and has a little one already,” I say.
“Oh, I don’t, but thank you.” She laughs as Sebastian wraps an arm around her and kisses the side of her head.
“You’re crazy beautiful,” he tells her, making her blush a little. “Why don’t you two take Jake to the lounge to play with his toys while I help Maisy s
erve up dinner?” Sebastian says.
“Sounds good,” Harley replies, and Jake tightens his hands around Harley’s neck as he hugs him again. It’s clear Jake loves Harley.
“Here, go and sit with him and I will get some toys out,” Harley says and hands me the toddler.
“Err, sure, I mean, yes. I just have never held a little one before.”
“You might need the experience one day,” he tells me gently as I accept Jake. I manage to place him on my hip, and he reaches up, taking my glasses off and tries to put them into his mouth.
“Nope, these aren’t food.” I chuckle, and he gives me a toothy grin as I take the glasses from him.
“Har-har,” he says, pointing at the door Harley just left through.
“I know, you love Har-har,” I say as I hold Jake, and I am surprised by how heavy he is.
I walk over to the rug in the room and sit down with Jake in my lap. Jake tries to crawl away the moment I try to sit him down, and I have to pick him up again. It’s only a few minutes of trying to keep his attention before Harley comes in with two trucks in his arms. He puts the trucks in front of Jake, and he crawls over and starts pushing them around the rug.
“Do you like children?” I ask Harley, watching how he looks at Jake.
“Yes, you?” he replies.
“No idea, well, not yet.”
“I think you will be a natural,” he tells me gently, but he doesn’t say anything else as he watches me play with Jake.
I hope Harley is right.
89
Tilly
“Can I have a word with you before you go to bed?” Harley asks me when we get back from Sebastian and Maisy’s house after a lovely meal.
I was surprised by how much information about Harley they managed to tell me over the dinner. I think they both suspect something is going on, so they decided to tell me every good thing they could think of about Harley. I learnt that he always babysits for Jake, and that he helped them so much when Jake was teething and no one was getting any sleep. That Harley’s favourite colour is blue, and he likes strawberry cheesecake. They gave me a lot to think about.
I was hoping to avoid any conversation with Harley, so I planned on rushing up the stairs as soon as we got home, but that doesn’t seem to be happening. I pause, with my hand on the bannister, and look back at him.
“I’m tired,” I respond.
“You can avoid this all you like, but I’m asking you to talk to me. I won’t judge you, and I won’t stop you from walking away. Anything you tell me, I will never tell anyone else,” he tells me gently.
“You will judge me, Harley,” I whisper as he moves closer and gently runs his hand down my arm.
“How about I tell you something about me that people judge, and then you can tell me about this?” he asks as he places his hand on my stomach, where there is a slight, hard bump.
“You know anyway.”
“Tilly,” he says gently, and I nod, knowing that some part of me wants to talk to him, and a bigger part of me already trusts him.
I haven’t spoken to anyone about what is going on, and I don’t know why, but I kind of trust him. He takes my hand and leads me down to the other set of stairs at the end of the corridor. They lead up to another door, and he opens it before flicking on the light.
The room is a massive, attic conversion, which has a desk, two sofas, three bookcases, and several old boxes around the room. It’s a cosy room and well-used from the looks of the all the things lying around on the desk.
“This is my office, well, office space that I like to be in. I sleep up here some nights,” he tells me as he shuts the door behind us, and I walk over to the sofa.
“It’s a lovely room,” I comment, but he doesn’t reply to me.
I sit down, and he comes and sits right next to me, his body pushed against mine. It surprises me when I don’t attempt to move.
“How far along are you?” he asks me straight away.
“I thought you were going to tell me something about you first,” I say, with a small, awkward laugh.
“Okay . . . fair enough,” he says and then clears his throat. “I fight in a place called The Cage, and I have done so since I was a teenager,” he says, watching for how I react as he looks down at me.
“Do you win?” I ask. I want to be shocked, but some part of me isn’t shocked at all. I knew he had secrets, it’s written all over his face. I’m glad it’s this, in a way, and not a secret wife and kids he hides in another town or something.
“Every time,” he says, but there’s a hint of sadness in his voice which makes me wonder if he likes to win at all.
“Do you hate it?” I ask him, and he runs his hand through his hair, which he left down at Sebastian’s when Jake pulled the hairband out.
“Yes,” he tells me, and I put my hand on his knee, squeezing gently before I start talking.
“I’m five months pregnant and please don’t ask why I don’t look pregnant or have much of a bump, it just seems to be that way,” I tell him, almost not wanting to tell him this about me. I know most guys would run the other way.
“You can kick me out or run away from me. I get that. I’m a pregnant person you don’t know, who moved into your house and kissed you.” I mentally cringe as I blurt that out. He looks down at me, shaking his head ever so slightly, but I catch it.
“One time, when I was seventeen, I fought and nearly lost. The fight was bad, and I ended up killing the man to survive. Afterward, I was sitting at the bar and a woman came up to me. She was a lot older than me, and I’d never seen her before, but I will never forget her words.”
“What did she say?” I ask him.
“That you fight for the best things in life, you fight to survive, and you don’t give up. That anything simple and straightforward isn’t going to be worth it. It’s the hard things–the complicated things–that challenge you but give you the best rewards. She told me that and then walked away, but the words stuck around. I have a feeling you’re one of the best things in life, and I’m not going to walk away.” He says each word with emotion, an emotion that I’m feeling too as I feel my heart pounding inside my chest. A silence fills the room as I don’t know how to reply to him. We just stare at each other, our faces inches apart.
“I’ve killed people in my fights, does that not make you want to run from me? Most women would,” he asks me gently.
I’m a little shocked by that, but there’s something about him that makes me think he wouldn’t have done it on purpose. It’s just the way he says it, and the way he took Izzy into his home and accepted her as his sister straight away. No questions asked. He looked after her, a heartless killer wouldn’t have done that. It’s other things too, like the way his family is around him, how they respect him, and it’s not out of fear. No, it’s respect that is brought on by doing good things and earning it.
“No, it doesn’t make me want to run. My family is complicated, but I know that even if someone has been forced to do bad things to survive, it doesn’t make them a bad person,” I say, thinking of my father for only a second. He was in jail for a year for something he did, but he isn’t a bad person. Not one bit of him is.
“Why are you running, Tilly?” he asks. My name is spoken so softly that I almost miss him saying it. I almost want to beg him to whisper my name once more. I keep my eyes locked on his green ones as I answer him.
“I’m running from my ex-boyfriend, the baby’s father,” I say quietly, watching as he nods, his eyes blazing.
“What did he do?” Harley asks, but even thinking of that night has me tensing up.
Harley notices and pulls me closer to his side, wrapping his arm around my waist. I rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t even think I can move away if I wanted to, my body just wants to relax against him. I love how he smells when I am this close, like mint.
“Why do I feel safe with you? Why do I trust you when I couldn’t even trust my family to talk to them before I ran?” I mumble
to him.
“I don’t know why, but I’m glad you came here, Tilly,” he tells me.
“Why is that?” I ask.
“You’re not ready for that answer yet,” he tells me gently as I look up at him. Harley leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” he reminds me. I know I didn’t, but I don’t want to ruin this moment between us with my past. Not yet.
“I can’t, I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I will move out if you want. I know you didn’t sign up for a pregnant woman with a messed-up past living in your house,” I tell him, because I know it’s not fair to expect him to have me stay here.
“No, stay,” he says quickly, like he doesn’t even have to think twice about it.
“Only for a few weeks,” I respond.
“Until you’re ready to leave. The baby must come first now, Tilly, and it’s safe here. You have people here who care about you and will help,” he tells me, and I know he is right.
I rest my head back against his chest. Neither of us saying anything as we hold each other for a long time. I can’t remember the last time I just sat and cuddled someone. There isn’t anything else expected, and I feel safe. I know I won’t be forgetting this day anytime soon. I look over at the bookcases in the room and remember the ones downstairs too.
“Do you read a lot?” I ask, and he laughs.
“Every day if I can get my way. I like to garden, too,” he tells me.
“Books are kind of my thing, too. When I left France, I had to leave my collection there. I hope to get them back at some point,” I tell him.
“Well, you can borrow anything from here if you want,” he offers.
“You sure?”
“Yes, go and look.” He nudges me, and I slide off the sofa.
I walk around the bookcases and I’m surprised to see so many old books mixed in with new ones that I’ve read. It’s strange to think that he likes the classic romance and thriller books that I do.
“Wow, a first edition Jane Eyre,” I say, picking it up and reading the first page.