Physis (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #4)

by Michelle Irwin

  “The Fourth of July,” I said again, drawing Beau’s face between my palms. “You missed it.”

  He scoffed. “It don’t matter.”

  “It does. You’re here in Australia because of me, and you missed a holiday that you said you lov—enjoyed.”

  His sleepy amber eyes met mine. “I’d give up a hundred Fourth of Julys to have one night with you, darlin’.”

  “You’re sweet.”

  “It’s true.” Taking care not to move too suddenly or without warning me of his intentions first, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

  “I still think I need to do something to make it up to you. Name your price. Anything—” I yanked from his hold as I said the last word. Glancing down at my pyjamas, where the top slouched open to reveal a hint of the X on my chest, I pulled up the blanket. “N-not anything,” I added in a voice I couldn’t control.

  He was wide awake instantly, attuned to the shifting emotions that rolled through me like the sea. High tide; low tide; they were two sides of the same coin but needed to be dealt with differently. He was fast learning when to stride out into open water, pushing me to reach my next challenge, and when to pull everything to safety, to drop anchor and wait it out. No one could read me better than he did—and even he got it wrong at least a third of the time.

  “I don’t want nothin’ like that,” he said, pulling himself up into a seated position and resting his hand between us in invitation.

  I wrapped my fingers around his and guided his hand to my cheek. He didn’t move his hand, only allowed our skin to connect as he cupped my face, but his thumb traced a slow path from the middle of my top lip to the middle of my bottom one.

  “If ya really wanna do somethin’ nice for me, somethin’ to celebrate missin’ the Fourth, maybe we should go kartin’?”

  “Karting?”

  “Yeah, it’s been too long since we went together, don’t ya think?”

  “If I remember correctly, our last attempt didn’t end all that well.” The day was no doubt playing on his mind, just like it was playing on mine.

  “I dunno,” he murmured, his eyes glazing over as if lost in the past. “From what I recall, that day was pretty dang fantastic. One of the best of my life.” His tongue slicked across his lips and his gaze darkened.

  Yanking away from him, I rolled off the bed. “Beau. I—I’m not . . . doing that.”

  His head shot up to find me, his gaze rushing straight to mine. “What?”

  “That day—that . . . night. Was it good for you just because . . . because we . . .” My body shook.

  “That ain’t the only reason. It was the first time you said—” He cut off and his frustration was clear. I hated being the cause of it. “When ya said the words I needed more than anything to hear to know I wasn’t goin’ crazy.”

  “So we’re clear that karting won’t lead . . .” I squeezed my eyes closed and took a gasping breath. “It won’t lead to that.” My last words left in a rush—exploding from me because they couldn’t be contained.

  He sank down to the bed as a sigh left him. “Why can’t you believe that I understand? That I ain’t gonna pressure ya into anythin’.”

  “Because you’re not supposed to understand. You’re supposed to want to have sex with me.”

  He closed the distance between us slowly, approaching me with his hands raised in front of him in a ridiculously overstated surrender position. “I do understand, and I don’t want to.”

  A frown crossed my brow as I recognised the lie. It was clear in the way he looked at me sometimes—like moments earlier—that he did want it. Why would he lie about that?

  He was right in front of me, begging me with his eyes to let him touch me. Despite the shiver that ran down my spine, I gave him permission. “Not ’til you are completely ready, darlin’.”

  When I went to say I never would be, he silenced me with a look.

  “And if ya never are . . . well, there’s somethin’ to be said about a refreshin’ run and finishin’ with a cold shower.”

  Despite the topic toeing close to the edges of one I couldn’t discuss openly anymore, I had to laugh at his statement. Ducking my head, I tried to shake images of him under the shower out of my mind—especially when they made my breathing speed and a smile play at the corner of my lips.

  “What’re ya thinkin’?” he asked, dipping so I could meet his eyes.

  “Nothing,” I said, unwilling to admit to the thoughts that had filled me momentarily in case it gave him a false hope.

  He stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Please tell me?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Sucking his lip back in, he chewed it for a moment—no doubt considering my question or his response—before letting it pop. “’Cause for just a moment, you had a twinkle. And I wanna know what caused it.”

  Fighting a laugh, I shook my head. “There was no twinkle.”

  “Yeah, there was.”

  “What’s a twinkle, anyway?” I stuck my chin up.

  He was so close, but instead of being terrified, I wanted him to come closer still. His hand lifted, the pad of his thumb brushing over my eyebrow. My gaze fell to his lips as he dropped his hand and swept his knuckle over my cheekbone. “It’s this mischievous glint you get right—”

  Surprising even myself, I cut him off with a kiss. My breath was a shaky sigh as the hand brushing my face moved to caress my hair. I parted my lips and his tongue pressed forward. It was only the second time we’d kissed like this since I’d come home. I surrendered myself to the sensation completely, and for a moment, it was my sole focus.

  My chest swelled as I moved my tongue against his, letting them dance the way they used to.

  Needing to breathe—even though I didn’t want to stop—I pushed him away.

  “Finishing off with a cold shower, or finishing off in a cold shower,” I muttered as I escaped the little prison Beau had inadvertently boxed me into.

  He swung around to follow my path. “Huh?”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  A burst of laughter left him. “Told ya there was a twinkle.”

  “It doesn’t mean I’m ready—” When his smile fell, I cut off before adding, “But you know that, don’t you?”

  “So kartin’ . . .” He deftly changed the subject. “Shall we invite your family to come with us? And Angel?”

  I laughed as I considered Angel in a kart. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to convince Angel into one, but I guess it might be okay. Only—” I paused as I considered the best way to ask for what I needed. “I’m not sure I’m ready to be in a crush of people yet.”

  “D’ya trust me?”

  Swallowing down my first instinct—to not trust anyone—I nodded.

  “Then let me work it out.”

  “Okay.” I breathed the word as he shifted closer to me.

  “Can I ask one more thing?”

  I glanced down at my hands. “Yeah?”

  “Can I kiss ya ag’in?” His gaze was locked on my lips, hunger burning within. Rather than terrifying me, like I would have expected it to, it made my stomach twist in the best ways.

  It made my heart hammer and my body shake, but I nodded and whispered, “Please.”

  I didn’t have to say it twice. As soon as I’d given my permission, he covered the last of the space between us, his hungry gaze locked onto my lips. One of his hands threaded into my hair and he drew me close to him, claiming my lips as he did.

  When his lips touched mine, I lost myself in his kiss.

  JULY HAD PASSED into August by the time Beau organised our date to the kart track. In the meantime, he’d become something of a near-permanent addition at home. There had been a couple of occasions where the closeness had become too much for me and I’d sent him away, but other than those, the only time Beau ever left was when he returned to his house on Tuesday nights to give me space before my appointments. He didn’t even go to his house to get ch
anged anymore, Angel just brought around a fresh bag of clothes for him when she could.

  After my chat with Brock, he was far more accepting of Beau’s presence. The fact that in Brock’s eyes Beau had brought Angel back into our lives didn’t hurt his case. Not that Brock and Angel were friends, but her hanging around our house from time to time got Brock extra cred with his mates.

  Despite the discussion that it was easier for us to go into the city together to see Dr Bradshaw, the reality was that my sessions still tore me up too much to face him again straight away. Added to the fact that I wasn’t sure I could wait alone in the lounge without panicking, it was just easier to stick to the previous arrangement. It seemed more important to let Mum take me when Beau announced he was scaling his appointments back to once a month. Although I tried not to begrudge the fact that he felt healed enough to spend less time in the shrink’s hands—and that the doctor had agreed with his belief—it had still seen him banished from the house for three days.

  Angel and I still hadn’t found our equilibrium. She pushed me, like always, but I shoved back harder than ever with barbed words and hateful comments. Whenever we fought, it was like I had an out-of-body experience and could only watch myself rage at her without being able to stem the flow of hurtful words. We hadn’t even spent any time alone since our reunion at Cedar Creek Falls. Instead, the time we did spend together was usually with Beau between us as a buffer. It made it easier to manage how handsy she could be if there was someone else she could hold. But then watching her touch Beau just stoked the fires of jealousy in me and made me more likely to lash out. She had become my punching bag and I didn’t know how to break the cycle.

  To my surprise though, she’d agreed to come on the go-karting spree despite all of that. I tried not to linger on the concern that she’d only agreed to it because it’d been Beau who had asked her. She’d never been one to come with me in the past. At least, not since we were in high school and she hoped to catch a glimpse of a hot racer.

  In the end, Mum and Dad both took time off work and let Brock, Beth, and Parker have time off school so we could go in the middle of a weekday when it was less likely to be packed. It wasn’t until we turned up and I saw the signs announcing the place was closed for a private function that I realised there was even more to it than just going on a non-busy day.

  “Thank you,” I said to Beau as tears pricked my eyes. I wouldn’t let them fall though. I’d done enough crying to last a lifetime—both happy and sad.

  He lifted his hand and cautiously pinched a strand of hair that had fallen loose of my ponytail between his fingers before working it back into the rest of my hair. “You should thank your daddy. He’s got some pull with the guys here.”

  My lips tipped up into a grin. “Probably because of how much money he poured in here when I was younger.”

  “They were more than happy to give us private access for a few hours,” Dad said, breaking the moment between us. “That is, if you’re ready to get your arses handed to you by an old man.”

  “Hey!” Mum protested. “You’re the same age as me, and I’d hardly call thirty-seven old.”

  “You’re not even thirty-seven yet,” Dad reminded her. “For the next few months, I’m still married to a younger woman.”

  “Great, now they’re gonna kiss,” Brock whined.

  Beth planted her hands on her hips. “It’s ’cause they’re in love. When you’re in love, you’ll want to kiss someone lots too. Isn’t that right, Pheebs?”

  I blushed scarlet. She’d accidentally stumbled upon a few snogging sessions between Beau and me. Although I’d once thought I’d never have any desire to share anything remotely sexual with anyone again after what had happened, Beau had shown me the pleasure in kissing. Properly kissing and taking the time to taste and explore without expectation of it going further.

  In fact, we’d become so adept at it, and I’d grown so comfortable with it, that he’d become the one to pull away more often than not. Whenever he did, he’d curl his hands into fists and take a few seconds to recover his wits before wrapping his arm around me to hold me close and reassure me that he cared for me. When I’d queried him about the frequency of his need to pull away, he’d explained that he was keeping his promises to me—and to himself—to not take it further until I was absolutely ready, if ever, but that it wasn’t always easy to stop his hands from exploring when he was swept up in the moment. The statement had made my heart race for all the best and worst reasons.

  “Are ya ready for this?” Beau whispered as he offered me his hand.

  I returned from my fantasy of kissing him until he had to pull away again to find my family were already heading into the karting complex. Angel hovered near Beau and me, but at a distance just far enough away that his words were meant for only me.

  I swallowed to moisten a throat parched from stress before nodding. “I’ve got to do this eventually, right? Especially if I ever want to get back on the track for real.”

  A wry grin crossed Beau’s face. “Don’t let the bastards win.”

  “Yeah, something like that.” I’d regretted telling Beau about my conversation with Dad ever since he’d started using it as a motivator every time fear stopped me from doing something that would have once been normal. Not that he’d pushed me into too much I hadn’t been ready for anyway, it was always just used as the final nudge to get me over the line.

  Sliding my hand in his, I followed him toward Angel.

  “So, sweetness, are ya gonna hit the track today?” he asked her.

  “You seriously have a death wish if you want me anywhere near the track, cowboy.”

  “You should come out,” I said. “It’ll be fun.”

  “You two would lap me a hundred times. Far better to sit on the sidelines and admire the talent on the track.”

  “If you’re sure . . .” I didn’t want to push her, but I didn’t want her to feel like she was being cast aside too easily. It was the best way I could think of to close the distance between us.

  “Trust me. Besides, someone’s gotta keep your mum company with Nikki. Mrs R. isn’t moving as fast as she usually does.”

  All the muscles in my body tightened at the thought of the cause of Mum’s slower reactions. The baby. I palmed my stomach, rubbing absentmindedly over the place where my own stomach should have blossomed.

  Beau’s fingers closed around mine in a comforting touch.

  Angel’s expression fell. “Sorry.”

  I raised my free hand and waved off her apology. “It’s okay.”

  “Is it?” Angel asked, taking a step closer.

  “Of course it is,” I snapped, dropping Beau’s hand and backing away from her. “Do you think I’m some sort of fucking bitch who can’t be happy for her mum just because my baby is dead?”

  They were words I’d worried about often enough—especially in the days after finally acknowledging the unspoken truths between Mum and me. Once again, Angel had to wear the face of my own guilt and take the brunt of the cruelty I couldn’t turn inward. Even though Dr Bradshaw had helped me identify the cause of the issue, it didn’t make it any easier to stop.

  “Of course I don’t, girlie.” Angel’s voice was defeated, her eyes downcast with the emotions closed off so I couldn’t read the pain. She glanced toward Beau and nodded. “I think it’s time,” she said. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  Beau’s gaze swung to me, a guilty expression overtaking his features. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just gonna leave y’all alone for a little bit. I’ll see ya inside.”

  The guilt printed clearly on both their faces was enough to twist my stomach. I could see all my worst fears manifesting in front of me. They were both beautiful inside and out. Both largely untarnished by the experiences that blackened my heart. They lived together and had an obvious closeness forged through their shared experience of looking for me. It made sense for something to happen between them.

  Why they’d chosen that moment
to tell me was beyond me.

  Tears were already burning my eyes before Beau was even out of earshot. “Well, let me have it then,” I sneered at Angel. “Fill me in on whatever dirty little secret you feel the need to tell me.”

  “What?”

  “Did he walk in on you while you were in the shower and enjoy the show? Did you sneak into his room one night just to see what might happen? Kiss him when you were both too drunk to stop?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “You and Beau. I know something’s going on between you.” My anger dissipated as the reality that I might lose him sank deep into my bones, penetrating to my core. Was that the reason he’d been so damn patient and understanding about the sex thing? Was he getting it elsewhere? From my supposed best friend?

  “Fuck you, Phoebe.” Her words came out between sobs as her own tears fell.

  “Whatever.” Possessed by the self-doubt, hatred, and loathing that made me lash out at her, I started toward where Beau was waiting near the entrance to the kart track.

  “Phoebe, please stop.” She didn’t reach for my hand or physically try to hold me back, but the words were coated with so much agony, I couldn’t ignore them.

  I tried to force my body out of the rigid position it had locked itself in, to soften my stance and my expression, but when my arms found their way across my chest, I worried I’d failed.

  “Why did you ask me not to walk away?”

  I couldn’t answer her. The request had been a compulsion at the time, something I’d needed to ask of her. Something I would ask of her again. I couldn’t lose her, but neither could I be entirely comfortable with her beside me either. It was just impossible to say why that was.

  “There was a time you and I wouldn’t even go a day without talking to each other,” she said, taking a step closer to me and offering me her hand.

  “That’s in the past.”

  She sighed and took another step closer until her hand brushed against mine. “I know. I wish it wasn’t, but I get it. You were harmed, and you’re still hurting from it. But you haven’t spoken to me once since begging me not to walk away.”