by West, Jade
It was Dave Amberley who arrived next to me and took hold of Sawyer by his arm. “Come on, Rob,” he said. “No place for this here. It’s just a visit, nothing major.”
I saw Ryan’s attempt-to-be-passive smile as he stepped up on my other side. “Yeah, Rob,” he said. “Just a visit from London. Nothing but a few beers.”
I shook my head at the stupid fucking audacity of this small-town bullshit.
“A visit for as long as I want it to be, doing whatever the fuck I want to be doing,” I snapped, and both men at my side looked fucking horrified as Sawyer’s eyes widened.
“Doing whatever the fuck you want to be doing as long as it doesn’t fuck with whatever the fuck I want to be fucking doing,” the idiot yelled, and his breath stank of beer as he leaned in close.
I didn’t have to rise to his standoff, both guys had hold of him and were easing him away from the bar before I’d even strung my next sentence together.
Amberley had his cigarettes out of his pocket and was pulling Sawyer out to the beer garden as Ryan re-joined me.
“Told you,” he said. “There’s no way Sawyer’s going to give her up easily. I’d prepare for the crap to come calling.”
But I didn’t give a shit. Genuinely. Not about whatever crap Sawyer would come calling with, just so long as it didn’t come calling on Maisie too.
“Let’s get out of here,” Ryan said. “I think the snooty bar was a fuck ton better this evening.”
“I thought you’d have grown out of the Sawyer bullshit by now,” I laughed. “I really didn’t think you’d still be pandering to whatever shit he was throwing around these parts.”
“He’s still a big ego with a big fucking mouth to go with it. Easier to keep the peace,” he said, and showed me a pleading expression until I sighed.
“My ego’s still big enough to want to hold my fucking ground to that fucking idiot,” I shot back, but shrugged as the pub turned into a jackass fest with people swaying and singing along to football tunes. “I think the snooty bar really is a fuck ton better though.”
“Too fucking right,” he said, and led the way out.
We reached the front door just as Sawyer pushed his way back in from the beer garden to the rear. I shot him one last look as we exited, and fuck how it crashed together, both of us staring hard with enough force to set the world rumbling under our feet. It was tense. Hard enough that I could feel the bristle rippling from him and feel mine burning right back.
I wasn’t backing down to him.
Not in this pub. Not in this town. Not over the girl whose heart I’d lost once before already.
It was him who broke the glare, turning back to the bar to order a fresh beer.
“Jeez, you two have got some crap brewing between you,” Ryan said as we stepped onto the high street. “I’m beginning to think I’d have been better off steering you well clear of the high school reunion after all.”
I slapped him on the back at the thought.
“You won’t be steering me clear of anything Maisie Moore related from here on in,” I said.
Chapter Nineteen
Maisie
My whole body was tingling as the night drew in that evening.
Freddie was fast asleep in the room next door, and I was splayed out on my bed and staring at the ceiling, wondering what on earth life was going to be like after the weekend was through.
The Oliver Kent effect was already alive and kicking with some hell of a force. I had no idea just how intense it was going to be when I spent the night with him in the flesh.
My heart was thumping and my mouth was dry, just at the knowledge that this was it, the eve of the big physical reacquaintance. Just so long as Rob wasn’t too much of an asshole to keep the staying over plans in place for Freddie that weekend. He’d best damn well not be.
I ran through my own plans again, hoping to be acceptably presentable enough not to disappoint the hunk of Oliver Kent gorgeousness.
A long, hot shower with plenty of shaving time once Freddie was off with his grandparents. A decent hair drying session with hair straighteners at the ready. Makeup. Enough to give me a decent shine, including gloss to make my lips as kissable as they ever came. Plus the sexy underwear under my staple little black dress and decently high heels.
I’d been as prepared as I could be, checking through my old knicker drawer until I found some sexy supplies lurking deep. Sure, I’d been wearing some of my best lingerie on the video calls, but the lacy basque I’d managed to pull out of my back catalogue was still unseen. It was a rich, dark purple with a black satin panel, and hopefully flattering enough that I wouldn’t feel like a total and utter quake fest as I stripped down to it.
I guess we really would see if my nerves were up to the occasion soon enough. Nerves and the total, utter, insane levels of excitement for the man who could set my heart alight at a single glance across the checkout counter.
My phone was a tease right there beside me on the mattress, tempting me to reach out by text and invite him over. I mean, in theory I could do. It could be an innocent little catch up, just a coffee at the kitchen table with Freddie snoozing upstairs. But no, I couldn’t risk it.
So I didn’t reach out. I stayed as calm as my needy body would let me, relaxing upstairs with a smile on my face as the night carried on by. I hoped that Ollie was having a great time catching up with Ryan in town, and hoped tenfold more that Robbie hadn’t crossed his path enough to be a total moron and tried to scare him out of town somehow. Even the thought was enough to get my belly twisting.
I think I must have been drifting nicely off to sleep when I first heard the thump of the front door booming loud downstairs. I woke with a jolt, my eyes narrowing against the lamplight and checking out the time on my phone handset.
Gone midnight.
Who the hell would be thumping on my front door at gone midnight?
It was when I heard the bellow of Robbie’s drunken voice through my slightly open bedroom window that it became very obvious who’d be thumping my door at gone midnight. I dashed my way across the room on instinct and pulled back the curtains. The streetlights were glowing enough to see him pretty clearly as he stumbled backwards down the path and stared on up.
“Maisie!” he yelled, and held up a bunch of flowers. “Maiiisieeee! Come down here! I need to see you!”
I opened the window considerably wider and hissed for him to shut the hell up, and a whole slam of embarrassment hit hard as Kai Rivers and Cherry Jones from the neighbouring houses finished up their takeout fries in the garden next door and laughed along with the spectacle.
“Go home!” I hissed to Rob. “You’re absolutely wrecked. Freddie’s in bed!”
He shook his head and swayed for balance. “I need to see you! I have something to say! It’s fucking important!”
Fuck my life. I cursed to myself as I shut up the window, cursing again as I heard the creak of Freddie’s bed on my way across the landing. I made quick work of the stairs, keeping as quiet as I possibly could do as I padded down them.
Robbie’s face was pressed to the glass panel in the front door as I grabbed the keys to unlock it.
His eyes were wide and strangely desperate looking as I clicked the lock and pulled the door open. He swayed a whole fresh round as I pushed him backwards from the porch and stepped on out.
“What the holy hell are you doing here?!” I snapped, pulling my dressing gown as tight as it would manage. “You absolutely stink of beer and cigarettes.”
I didn’t know what to do as he thrust out the bunch of flowers to me and let out a sigh. I took them from him, my hands dithery. Roses. Red by the look of it. Recently acquired from the late-night garage at the top of the estate from the look of it too.
I didn’t know what to say, just stared mutely up at him as he came in closer.
“They’re for you,” he said. “Because I love you. I really fucking love you.”
I started shaking my head, but he kept on going.
“I mean it. Really fucking mean it. I really fucking love you, Maisie. I want us to be together, like we should be. We really fucking should be.”
I took a breath, slowly, because I didn’t know what else I should do. Cherry and Kai were still staring over the fence while munching their fries, and George and Diane from a few doors down were heading home along the front, and I felt a spectacle there. A spectacle with a drunken man professing his undying love to her a fair few years too late.
I tipped my head and put a hand on his arm. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Rob. You’re drunk and need to get to bed.”
“I need to get to your bed,” he said, and once upon a time I’d have agreed with him.
But not anymore.
“Just say it,” he continued. “Say we can be back on. We should be back together, me, you and Fred. You know it. Let me come in, and we’ll be together, for good this time. Always for fucking good.”
My head was shaking instinctively as he made a step forward.
“We don’t work together,” I told him. “You know this as well as I do when you’re sober. We’ve tried more than enough times to know it.”
His head shook right back. “No,” he said. “I don’t know it. All I know is that I fucking love you. You and Freddie both. We can do this. The three of us can do this.”
Deep inside was that horrible little streak of hurt. Of regret. Of disappointment that this dream of a sweet little family had gone so horribly wrong back when it could’ve meant something.
“I’m sorry, but we really can’t do this,” I said to him. “It doesn’t work. It never did. We tried so hard, but it didn’t work.” I paused, held up a hand to press against his cheek. “You know you don’t want it when you’re sober. I don’t think you ever really did. You’ve wanted almost everyone in a skirt to some capacity these past few years, I’ve been the bottom of your list.” I sighed. “And you really do need to get yourself to your own bed, you’ve got Freddie all weekend.”
His eyes were so much more raw than I was hoping to fix on when they crashed into mine. Dark and pained and as sincere as he’d ever looked, even if he was drunk to all shit.
“I mean it,” he rasped. “I fucking love you. I always have. I always will.”
“Thanks for the flowers,” I told him. “They’re lovely. But I need to get to bed now.”
I made a move to step back inside, but he stepped up with me, pressing his arms either side of the doorway.
“I love you, Maisie!” he said again, and this time was louder.
I spotted Kai and Cherry turning away out of the corner of my eye and knew that even they must be getting embarrassed by this outpouring too.
I’d have marched Rob away down the path for his own good if I’d have had the chance before hearing Freddie call from the top of the stairs.
“Mummm!” he cried out. “What’s going on? Is that Dad there?”
My expression must have been less than impressed as I stared up at Rob. “Go home!” I snapped at low volume. “Really, you need to. This isn’t the time and definitely isn’t the place.”
“Dad?!” Freddie called. “Is that you?”
“It’s me, chap!” Rob called back and shoved the door open above my head. “I’m here to tell your mum how much I love her. I really fucking love her, Freddie boy. I love both of you.”
I was still scowling up at the man claiming to be some romantic superstar when Freddie made his way to the front door and pressed close to my side.
“Love you too, Dad,” he said, and the perfect boyishness of his tone nearly broke my heart into pieces.
Hell, how awkward it was when Robbie grabbed us both and pulled us in tight. His cheek was pressed to mine, his breath ragged as he gripped me hard.
“I love you both so fucking much,” he said. “So fucking much.”
“And Freddie really needs to get back upstairs to bed,” I told him. “Seriously, you need to go home. We’ll talk again, but it won’t be now.” I pulled away to meet his eyes with the strength in mine. “I mean it, it won’t be now. We all need our sleep.”
We stood, face to face, Freddie still between us, and even through his drunkenness Robbie must have registered my seriousness.
“Alright,” he said. “Get the little guy back to bed.”
“Get yourself to bed,” I told him.
I guided Freddie back inside with a smile and a kiss on his head.
“Night, Dad,” he said, and I hated how sad and confused his eyes were.
“Night, boy,” Rob said with a smile. A genuine one.
“Thanks for the flowers,” I said again.
“I mean it,” he grunted. “I fucking love you.”
“And I mean it,” I countered. “We’ll talk again.”
He was still on the doorstep when I managed a nod goodnight and closed the door. I was quick to lock up, dropping the roses onto the side table before I led Freddie back upstairs and into his bedroom. I was also quick to tuck him back in tight and smooth the hair back from his forehead.
“Sometimes your dad drinks a little too much with his friends,” I said, and Freddie nodded.
“Yeah, but he does love us, doesn’t he?”
How I hated the emotional carnage I had to navigate and make the best parental decisions through at zero notice. What the hell am I supposed to say to questions like that from my eight-year-old angel?
I was still trying to form a response when Freddie yawned and rolled onto his side to get more comfortable.
“I know he loves us.” His eyes were dark and deep, just like his dad’s. “I hope one day he can move in with us and we can all be together.”
Another pang twisted in my gut. I kept my smile as bright and warm as I could do, and luckily Freddie was drifting back to sleep in a heartbeat.
“Your dad loves you very much,” I whispered. “And so do I.”
It was just unfortunate we didn’t love each other. Not anymore. No matter how much he liked to think we did when he was drunk.
I backed out of my sweet boy’s bedroom and eased the door closed behind me.
The lamp was still on in my own bedroom and the curtains were still open wide. The streetlights were still glowing down below, and Kai and Cherry’s laughter could still be just about heard before I closed up the window.
But thankfully, Robbie was gone.
Chapter Twenty
Oliver
Saturday morning was finally here.
The sun was bright through the windows, promising a warm day ahead.
I made sure I checked myself out in the mirror thoroughly after showering and dressing. The suit was one of my best, my shirt white and crisp. My cufflinks were understated titanium. My brogues were polished nicely.
My hair was neat, as tidy as it ever was. My stubble was neat to match.
Yes. I was ready. Definitely ready for sweet Maisie Moore.
I vacated my room and positioned myself in the hotel lounge, checking out support requests on my phone as I waited for her ping to come through.
It was almost two p.m. when that ping finally sounded.
Freddie’s gran just picked him up. I’m free until tomorrow afternoon. Ready whenever you are.
I’d been ready for years, I just hadn’t appreciated quite how much.
I’ll be there in ten, I told her. Which house number?
I was already in the high street and heading towards the recreation ground by the time her next ping sounded.
Number six, she said. With the white fence.
I tried to recall the row of properties in my memory. I could remember the recreation ground and its park and playground, plus the general impression of the row of houses at the top, but number six… I couldn’t quite picture that one.
On my way, I messaged.
The town was bustling. I felt a surprising amount of stares on me as I made my way through the town centre. I made quick work of the walk, heading pretty sharpish into more residential streets
– and into curtain twitching territory.
I’d forgotten just how ripe the volume of observation was around here. It was one hell of a fresh recollection as to just how entwined this populous truly was.
I pushed it aside, all of it.
The breeze was a good one, the grass rustling across the recreation ground as I arrived at the top of the park. I’d walked this route countless times as a boy, and a significant number of those were with the very girl I was heading to. Laughing, talking, whispering.
Dreaming.
I shot a glance at the play area to my left. It was a lot bigger than it had been a decade earlier. There was more of an assault course alongside the swings, slides and climbing frames than I’d ever seen.
I wondered how much time Maisie spent down there with her son. How much he liked living so close to the playground.
The huge walkway of oaks at the bottom of the park was every bit as impressive as I remembered, swaying gently in the breeze.
Home.
There it was again. That pang of familiarity. Even if the populous were a bunch of nosey gossips with nothing better to do than ping each other rumours all day long.
Number six was mid-terrace. The house was a cute one – a sweet little number with decent sized windows staring out across the ocean of park. The white fence was waist height and very quaint looking. The garden was a mix of gravel and concrete slabs, dotted with a selection of bikes and wheeled trucks by the front porch, no doubt belonging to Freddie.
I cleared my throat before rapping against the front door, fixing my smile in place as I saw her shadowy approach through the glass panel.
Her smile was bright as she swung it open, but it was more than her warmth that took my breath away.
She looked absolutely beautiful. Beyond beautiful.
The Maisie standing there was even more stunning than the Maisie I’d been picturing in my dreams all these years. Her eyes were smoky but glittering, her hair bouncing in exactly the way I’d always remembered, curling just perfectly at her shoulders.
Her dress was classy but seductive, low enough at the cleavage to be a promise, without being revealing. It glimmered with a black sparkle, promising to be a glorious evening dress under her tasteful little black jacket.