Emily had taken his control, his intense jealousy, his pulling her away from her friends for what he insisted it was—love. That was her first mistake. The second was staying with him for four years, sending the signals that his behaviour was acceptable. The longer she stayed, the harder it was to leave and the more domineering he became. It was only when he started to make noises about Sarah and Tim that Emily had finally voiced her concerns to her friends.
Sarah was overjoyed at her confession, spilling her own worries about Emily. Since the start of their relationship, Sarah had held her tongue, she said, scared that she might upset Emily or push her further away. “We didn’t know what to do,” Sarah had sobbed, always with a flair for the dramatic. “But whatever you decide to do now, we’ll be here to take care of you.”
Emily was touched at Sarah’s words, so touched that she would never tell her how hurtful she found them too. After four years of Trevor, she didn’t want to be taken care of; she wanted to take care of herself. She wanted to be the strong woman she had been before. She left Trevor, but she did so under her own steam, with no help from anybody. It hadn’t been easy, Trevor had resisted her at every turn, even threatening to reveal intimate videos on the internet. It was only when he found someone else that he truly moved on, leaving her to take care of herself.
Eventually, too agitated to ignore the jacket any longer, Emily got up and dressed quickly in a pair of leggings and a sports tee. She pulled her greasy hair up into a messy ponytail and wiped her face clear of what remained of the previous night’s make-up. Then she grabbed Jack’s jacket, trying not to inhale the incredible masculine smell emanating from the material, and shuffled into the hallway.
Knocking politely on his door, she wondered whether he would be awake yet. A part of her—the part that was still angry at his presumption—hoped he was as hungover as she was. She grinned, imagining the terrors he would be feeling after he kissed her the night before.
Almost immediately his door swung open. She was disappointed to see he looked disgustingly fresh and rested. A damp towel hung around his shoulders and he dabbed at his hot, sweaty face with it. He was wearing a pair of old grey sweat pants that hung loosely from his hips. His white Aliens t-shirt clung to his huge chest, emphasising muscles that, until recently, she hadn’t known he had. It was easy to overlook his sheer size when he hunched self-consciously.
He didn’t say a word, only looked at her expectantly, his face stoic.
“Were you working out?” Emily asked, the words slipping out.
“Yes. What do you want?” He was frowning, his tone curt.
Emily cleared her throat and held out his jacket. “I brought your jacket back. Thank you for lending it to me.”
He didn’t meet her eyes, opting to stare at the floor instead. For some reason, Emily couldn’t help but find the return of his awkward self disappointing. She liked the carefree, laughing Jack from last night. “No big deal. You were cold. You needed it more than I did.”
Her hangover made her more thin-skinned than normal so she couldn’t help but snap at him. “I don’t need taking care of, Jack.”
“I know that. You explained yourself very well last night,” He replied, sounding almost as angry as she was. Then he reined it back in, his handsome face smoothing out. He let out a blustery sigh. “Look, I’m not having the same argument with you, Emily.”
“We’re not arguing. I just don’t like being treated unequally, Jack. I don’t deserve it.”
His face twisted at her accusation. He yanked the jacket out of her hands. “This coming from the woman who abused me to my face last night? I don’t deserve being called an arse.”
Emily blushed deeply, embarrassed at hearing the words she had used. She took a calming breath, trying to rein in her temper. “I’m sorry if my words offended you. I generally don’t like to hurt people. But they were the truth. You are—”
“—an arse,” he said, overriding her. His eyes were cold and distant, a far cry from how they lingered on hers the previous night. “I get it. You’ve made your feelings very clear.” He paused. “Is there anything else?” When she shook her head he said, “Okay. Goodbye then.” He gave her a brief nod and closed the door smartly in her face, leaving her in the corridor mortified, the masculine smell of his post-workout sweat hanging in the air.
Chapter Five
On Sunday, Emily took great care to avoid Jack. It was just her luck that, after months of barely seeing him in the building, she should happen to run into him almost immediately. She was standing in one of the ancient lifts, impatiently jabbing the button for her floor. It was one of the old style lifts that had wrought iron gates instead of doors. It could be brought to a stop if somebody pulled open the gates before it set off.
There was an unspoken rule in the building that if the gates were closed, then you had to wait for it come back down. Jack was so well known for breaking the rule that when the gates were rudely yanked open, Emily knew it was him. Her heart hammered in her chest as she edged into the corner of the lift, desperately hoping he wouldn’t see her.
Even hidden in her corner she couldn’t help but study his tee. Teamed with his usual low slung jeans and Converse, it had another pun—this time Star Wars related. It said; Jedi in the Streets, Sith in the sheets. Once again, she couldn’t help but laugh, appreciating his nerdy humour.
At the sound, his eyes whipped over to where Emily stood. He froze when he saw her, his huge body tensing up. Blood crashed into his face and then immediately drained, turned a deathly pale colour. For a horrifying moment, she thought he would just close the gates and wait for it to come back down again rather than acknowledge her.
Then he shook his head imperceptivity, almost to clear it, and entered the lift with long strides of his muscular legs. He gave her a terse nod in greeting before turning his back to her. She was fine with his display of dislike; it was familiar and expected. They rode in a tense silence, the air thick and heavy between them.
The relief she felt when the lift finally shuddered to a stop was palpable. Jack threw back the iron gates harder than usual and they crashed into their hollows indication that he felt the tension too. He hovered for a second, obviously debating on whether to speak to her. Finally, he asked, “Will you be in work tomorrow?”
She blinked. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just wondering.” He studied her face, trying to gauge her reaction.
For a moment she was confused. Then she realised what he meant and couldn’t help but gasp; he was terrified that she would report him and he would lose his job. She wanted to reassure him, tell him that although he had crossed a boundary, she wouldn’t hold it against him. But she couldn’t. Instead, she swallowed and said, “Will you?”
He nodded stiffly. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Jack cocked his eyebrow in obvious surprise. “Is it? I thought you’d rather me not be there.”
“Whatever happened, we were… friends before the quiz,” she said, not really sure that was the right word but determined to keep things civil. “That hasn’t changed, has it?”
“No. I guess not.”
“Then I’ll see you Monday.”
Jack nodded and walked away quickly, disappearing into his apartment before she was even halfway down the corridor. She would have found it amusing if she didn’t feel partly to blame. She had been rude to him too, reacting in anger and fear because she wasn’t ready for a relationship. And even if she was, it would never be with Jack. They had a lot in common, there was no denying that, but his controlling nature was too familiar to her.
Two weeks after that boozy quiz, Emily was called into a meeting with the Tester.com Gaming Director. Nervous, she made her way to the office and knocked timidly on the glass door. When she was called in, her anxiety heightened when she saw Jack sitting uncomfortably on one of the chairs before the director’s huge wooden desk. Assuming the worst, she blushed to the roots of her hair and took a seat.
“Sir?” she asked, disheartened to hear the quiver in her voice. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack trying to communicate by slowly shaking his head. Not understanding, she gave him a puzzled glance.
“Ah, Emily,” Jim, the director, said. He turned from his laptop and surveyed them both over his gold-rimmed spectacles. “I’m glad you’re here. Take a seat. Tea? Coffee?” She shook her head and he continued, “Good, good. Well, let’s get straight down to it, shall we? I know you’ve both been working on Torchlight, and doing a pretty good job, I should add.”
“Thank you,” Jack muttered uncomfortably, eyes to the floor.
“But the developers aren’t happy with our feedback. Something about the quality of the information from Emily.”
Emily’s stomach dropped. She knew her feedback was systematic and analytical, exactly what was requested. Her game-playing was high level, the best on the floor, particularly on Torchlight. It was a point-and-click puzzle game, her speciality. It was one of the reasons Jack had assigned her to this game.
She was about to argue when Jack’s head shot up. “Jim, the system only lets us log our interim bugs and suggestions according to their brief. We can’t offer our proposals until the final report is actually submitted—and the deadline is three weeks away. This isn’t fair to Emily.”
Emily flashed a grateful glance over to Jack. It meant a lot to her that he stood up for her.
“I know, Jack,” Jim said, holding up a hand of peace. “I said as much to them on the phone. But they want the two of you to head down to their office this week and make a presentation on what you have. From what I heard, they’re over budget on this game and their own deadline is looming. They’re lashing out and we’re just going to have to fall in line and give them what they want.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Sir, the Torchlight creators are based in Southampton.”
“I know that,” Jim said slowly, as though Jack had lost his mind, “Which is why we’ve booked you each a hotel room. You’ll come back Wednesday morning.” He paused as though something had clicked in his mind. “Is this a problem for you two?”
Emily fought the blush that was trying to creep up her neck. She glanced over to Jack, who was watching her carefully. When he raised a questioning eyebrow, she knew he was wondering the same thing. “Absolutely not,” she answered firmly. There was no way she was going to let this stand in the way of her career now that she finally had one.
“Good. That’s settled then. Keep me in the loop with what happens.” He turned back to his computer, indicating their dismissal.
When they were outside, Jack whirled around so suddenly that Emily almost bumped into him. She grabbed onto the nearest thing—his arm—to steady herself. She could feel a taut muscle beneath her fingers and had an overwhelming urge to trace the curve of his bicep with her hand. When she lifted her eyes to his, he was watching her, his eyes locked on hers. She dropped her hand quickly. “Sorry, I almost fell.”
“My fault,” he said in a distracted tone. “Is this going to be a problem, Emily?”
“No. It really isn’t,” Emily answered truthfully. “Would it be a problem if you went with Tim?”
“Of course not.”
She pursed her lips, suddenly irritated. How could he not see the hypocrisy of being comfortable travelling with Tim and not her? “Then it shouldn’t be a problem with me either.”
“I didn’t… you know…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed.
She knew what he was going to say so she cut him off. She didn’t want their kiss acknowledged out loud. Not with the feel of his bicep so fresh in her mind. “It’s our job, Jack. Let’s just do it. There’s no problem here.”
He scanned her face slowly, as though trying to determine if she was telling the truth. Satisfied, he nodded and walked away. With anybody else, Emily would have been offended at such an abrupt withdrawal but she knew Jack well enough to recognise the signs of his discomfort; he wasn’t being rude, he was distancing himself from her.
Giving a mental shrug, Emily went back to her desk, and tried to think of anything but spending two days alone with Jack.
Chapter Six
Emily squirmed uncomfortably. They were sitting side-by-side on a tightly packed train, Emily closest to the window and Jack on the aisle seat. But because of his huge size, he was spilled over onto her seat, his thigh pressed firmly against hers. She knew he couldn’t help it, and he looked as embarrassed as she felt, but the closeness of his body was unsettling. Jack was sitting bolt upright, his hands clenched tightly in his lap. His hunched shoulders were pressed into the chair as though he was fighting the urge to run away. She would have laughed if she wasn’t so tightly wound herself.
They had been travelling for the past eight hours in an unbearable silence. The only conversation had been to complain at the lengthy delay on their journey; their train had broken down so they had to switch to a new one two hours ago. This one was hot, stuffy, and airless; the perfect conditions to lull her into a drowsy nap. She had woken up mortified just over an hour ago, to find her head resting on Jack’s firm shoulder, the smell of him caught in her throat. Her reaction was even more embarrassing; she jerked away from him as though the touch of his skin scalded her. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he said, stiffly.
Just as awkward, Emily had apologised again and then let the heavy silence return, anxious for the end of the journey. When the train finally slowed and pulled into the station, Emily let out a pent up sigh of relief. Jack glanced at her with narrowed eyes but didn’t say anything.
Heaving himself to his feet, he reached up and took both of their bags from the overhead storage. Emily held her hand out, waiting. Whether he didn’t see her or whether he deliberately ignored her, she wasn’t sure, but Jack walked passed with both bags slung over his shoulder.
“Hey! Give me my bag,” she said, trying to grab it from him.
“I’ve got it.”
She swallowed down her anger and spoke in a level tone. “I can see that. But it’s my bag so I should carry it.”
“It’s heavy.”
“I know that. I packed it.” She reached out again and, meeting him square in the eye, grabbed the strap and deliberately slid it down his shoulder. “I can manage it.” For a second, she thought he would argue. Then he shrugged the bag off and held it out to her, perhaps remembering their argument two weeks ago.
Emily took the bag, wincing at how heavy it was. “Thanks.”
“For letting you carry your own bag?” he asked scathingly.
Before she could answer, he strode away, once again removing himself from the conversation. She hurried after him as fast as she could, the bag uncomfortably heavy on her shoulder. By the time they arrived at the hotel, her back ached from the weight of it and she was panting with exertion. When he took her bag and guided her to a seating area, she gave him a grateful smile, too tired to argue.
“You wait here. I’ll check us in,” he said, dropping both bags at her feet.
Emily couldn’t help but marvel at how the crowd seemed to part for him, allowing him to move to the front of the queue without actually barging his way in. Though he still hunched in on himself, he moved confidently. How could she have thought him awkward and self-conscious? Now she knew it was more that he was aware of his huge size.
Nearby, Emily noted two girls eyeing him with obvious interest, their gaze following him as he made his way to the reception desk. A bizarre wave of jealousy washed over her. It only intensified when Jack laughed openly with the woman behind the desk. She was obviously charmed by him, laughing flirtatiously and patting her already immaculate hair. Emily wanted to turn away, annoyed at their obvious display.
Though she would never admit it, she was relieved when the discussion seemed to turn tense. He never raised his voice but there was no doubt that Jack was angry with whatever the pretty receptionist sai
d. His entire body was rigid and she recognised the signs of his nervousness. Several times he glanced over to Emily, his expression worried and uncertain.
After a few more minutes, he beckoned her over with a terse jerk of his hand.
“We have a problem,” he said simply when she stood by his side.
“What is it?”
“It appears that…” He let out an exasperated exhalation. “Well, it appears that there’s been a cock up. A double room has been booked instead of two singles. And no amount of sweet talking can make them budge.”
The lady behind the desk gave Emily an apologetic shrug. “There’s no other rooms available. We’re fully booked. I’m so sorry.”
“We could try for somewhere else,” Jack suggested.
Emily suddenly realised the problem and snickered. When Jack’s eyes narrowed she clarified, “We’re grown-ups, aren’t we? I’m sure we can stay in the same room for one evening without scratching each other’s eyes out, can’t we?”
“We could go somewhere else,” he said again, rubbing his jaw. His fingers rasped against the dark shadow of stubble.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere, Jack. I’m starving, and tired. If we go out now then it’ll be at least another hour before we can get something to eat. Let’s just make do.”
Jack blinked, obviously surprised at her easy manner. “As long as you’re sure,” he said, scrutinising her face.
“I’m sure. We don’t have to speak to each other just because we’re in the same room.”
Jack ignored the jibe and turned back to the woman. Obviously relieved, she handed over the key and documents for Jack to sign. He did so, barely looking at the paper. His face was closed and unreadable, as though deep in thought. Emily was about to ask if sharing a room was a problem for him but the words stuck in her throat when he walked past her without speaking.
Though she knew by now that this was just his way, she was still angry. He didn’t have to make his dislike of her so obvious. She rolled her eyes are the woman behind the desk and then, once more, followed Jack like a trailing puppy.
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