Blindsided

by Amy Daws

  “If my sister doesn’t want to talk to you, you don’t talk to her…got it?”

  “Of course, Maclay. That goes without saying.”

  I nod, my jaw clenched because I know I’m at a point in my life where I’ll do just about anything to get my arse back to London and show Freya what she means to me. And if the Harris family stands by Santino, he might actually have some redeemable qualities.

  “Okay,” I reply, my tone clipped. “If Tilly agrees to talk to you, I won’t get in your way about it.”

  There’s a deep breath on the other end of the line before Santino says, “For the record, Maclay, I would have pushed this buy-back through without your blessing.”

  “For the record, Santino, I still don’t like you.”

  “Allie, where is Freya?” I bark into the phone line, pacing back and forth while clutching a pet carrier in my hand. “I’m standing in her flat, and she’s not here, and she’s not picking up her mobile.”

  “What the hell are you doing in Freya’s flat?” Allie fires back. “How did you get in?”

  “I still have my key,” I say, fingering the key in my pocket and knowing damn well I shouldn’t have used it but not giving a shite.

  Allie hisses, “Mac, that is a gross misuse of that key. You and Freya aren’t even speaking right now. How do you think it’s okay for you to let yourself into her flat?”

  “I have a present for her,” I reply, my hand gripping the handle nervously. “I need to give it to her right away. It can’t wait.”

  “What kind of present?” Allie asks curiously.

  I take a nervous breath before replying. “I bought her a rescue kitten, all right? I got it from this guy Roger who we both know, and I have this wee thing with me now, and I just need to find Freya.”

  There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Mac, you can’t just give her a kitten. Not after everything that’s happened. It’s only been a week since your grandad’s funeral. Give her some time.”

  “I’m not just giving her a kitten, Allie,” I growl and flinch when I realise how angry I am. “I’m trying to win her back. I love her, Al.”

  Allie inhales sharply. “I’m happy to hear you finally say what we’ve all freaking known for the past year, Mac.”

  “I get it, Allie. I’m an idiot. I’m trying to make it right, so will you please tell me where she is?” I ask, not even trying to hide my desperation.

  There’s a pause, and I don’t like the sound of it. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you.”

  “What?” I ask, my jaw clenching in preparation.

  “She’s on a date.”

  “With who?”

  “Some Tinder guy. They’re at The Rooftop St James restaurant. I’m on call if she needs a rescue.”

  “Christ,” I growl under my breath, my muscles tensing at the thought of Freya being on a fucking date. Also, what is it with her and rooftop dates? “Has she been on a lot of these dates?” I ask, terrified of her answer.

  There’s a quiet pause on the other end that I do not like the sound of. I begin murmuring my displeasure, and Allie interrupts. “Mac, what are you going to do?”

  I swallow the knot in my throat, and reply, “Whatever it takes.”

  As soon as I hang up, an orange figure strides out from the darkened hallway. It’s Hercules stalking straight towards me with slow, measured steps like he’s preparing to pounce.

  I drop down on my knees, setting the pet carrier beside me. “Easy, lad. I’ve just come to bring you a friend.”

  Hercules turns his blue eyes from me to the pet cage on the floor beside me and approaches it with great caution. The wee kitten releases a high-pitched meow, and Hercules jumps but doesn’t run away. Instead, he leans his nose forward and touches his nose to the metal cage and lets out the loudest, most contented purr I’ve ever heard.

  “Do you like him, Hercules? Do you want to meet him?” I ask, reaching out and running my hand down the wee monster’s back. He curls into my hand and then lays down in front of the cage, placing the pads of his paw on the door, almost like he’s asking me to open it.

  With a wry grin, I reach over, and the cage door squeaks as I open it, freeing the small, fluffy grey kitten out of his pen.

  He pounces playfully in front of Hercules, who’s watching him like a hawk. When the wee kitty steps closer to the big orange, overweight monster, Hercules does something I never expected.

  He rolls on his back and opens his paws to the kitten. The kitten pounces, his tiny toothpick-like teeth gnawing into the big cat’s ear playfully. Hercules lays there like a corpse, letting the wee thing have his way with him as though this is just a normal Tuesday.

  “Are you two going to be pals?” I ask, reaching out and rubbing Hercules’s cheek.

  He replies with a thunderous purr, and I bite my lip excitedly. This is a sign. A really good sign.

  I’m on a date.

  I’m on a date on my birthday.

  This must be what thirty-somethings do, right? They swipe right and meet complete strangers in a restaurant to hide the fact that it’s their birthday, and they have no one special to spend it with?

  To be fair, Allie tried to plan a party for me. Begged, even. I was able to push her off until the weekend when I told her that I had a date lined up for the night. I know I should be spending my birthday with people I’m close to, but I honestly just wanted this date. On this day. It feels like a sense of accomplishment to be back out in the world and dating after everything that happened with Mac.

  “So, Freya, I’ve been doing all the talking since we sat down. Please…tell me about yourself,” Jasper says, sitting across from me in a romantic restaurant called The Rooftop St James. It’s a posh, outdoor space that overlooks Trafalgar Square. The city lights and people milling about below set the perfect scenery for a new beginning.

  Jasper is the complete opposite of Mac. He’s an accountant from Southampton who’s well over six feet tall with a narrow frame that gives him the Lurch vibe. He’s dressed in smart pleated trousers, and I think he’s sporting a very nice dad bod beneath that shirt. Just my type.

  “I’m a seamstress,” I state like a reflex. “Well…a designer now, I guess. I work in a clothing boutique with two very dear friends of mine, and I’m currently working towards expanding their shop into pet wear.”

  “Pet wear?” Jasper asks, his voice rising in pitch at the end. A nervous look fleets across his face. “Do you…have pets?”

  I nod proudly. “I have an orange cat named Hercules. He’s completely mental, but he’s my baby.”

  Jasper begins tugging at the collar of his shirt. “That’s nice. I, erm, don’t have any pets.”

  I smile and lean forward, narrowing my eyes at him in a playful challenge. “Are you a dog person or a cat person? This is a very serious question, and there’s only one acceptable answer.”

  He smiles awkwardly. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

  I nod and lean back while taking a sip of my wine. This date is off to a very strange start.

  Dinner is served, and Jasper begins telling me about the luxury hotel chain he works for and how expensive it is to stay there. He tells me that even with his deep employee discount, he still stays at the cheaper hotel across the street when he has late-night meetings. What a travesty. It takes everything in me not to cringe when he says that he doesn’t even buy the coffee at his hotel because even that with a discount is “exorbitant.”

  I’m so paying for half of this dinner cheque.

  By the time dessert is served, I’m exhausted. Jasper has this annoying need to fill in all the silences. There were so many nights Mac and I wouldn’t say much to each other at all. We’d just sit on the sofa, watch telly, and enjoy the other’s company. Most of the time, there were arguments peppered in there, of course, but on top of all that, there was this ease between us. Contented silence. It was lovely. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever find that with ano
ther man. And will I ever stop comparing all the men I date to Mac? God, I hope so.

  “So anyway, I took my shirt back to the dry cleaner, and I said, ‘This stain was not here when I brought it in, and I refuse to pay for the service’.”

  “So, you still have the shirt then? They didn’t offer to replace it?” I ask, taking another big sip of wine.

  “Yes,” he replies, his lips twitching nervously. “I didn’t think they’d go for replacing the shirt. It cost me twenty pounds.”

  I purse my lips together and turn to look out at the view again—the one saving grace of this evening.

  “Freya?” A familiar voice says my name and I think I might be imagining Jasper’s voice to sound like Mac’s because I’m so bored, I’m just making shit up in my mind. I look to Jasper, who isn’t looking at me, he’s looking at someone standing beside me.

  I turn, and my jaw drops when I see Mac standing over me in all his broad, ridiculously muscled, and sexily inked glory. He’s wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, and he’s holding a giant batch of pink balloons, and a bouquet of pink carnations are stuffed under his arm.

  “Wha—what are you doing here?” I stutter, shocked at the man before me. My eyes quickly fall to the very obvious grey pet carrier in his other hand.

  “It’s your birthday, Cookie.” His shoulders lift with a shrug as he half smiles down at me. His eyes are soft and dancing all over my face like he’s committing it to memory all over again.

  “What is that?” I ask, pointing to his hand, and as if on cue, a high-pitched meow erupts from the cage.

  “Jesus Christ,” Jasper bellows, pushing back from the table. “Is that a cat?”

  Mac looks over to my date, a stony, intimidating look causing Jasper to shrink into his chair. “Aye.”

  “I’m…allergic,” Jasper stammers, his face turning a beet red shade before my very eyes. “I break out in hives whenever I’m within ten feet of a cat.”

  Mac’s voice is flat when he replies, “You better be on your way then.”

  My jaw clenches because Mac has a lot of nerve coming in here and scaring my date away. “You don’t have to go,” I say to Jasper, pressing my hand on the table. “Mac will go.”

  “Who’s Mac?”

  “I’m Mac,” Mac growls, stepping closer to Jasper, who leaps up out of his seat to back away from the kitten. “I’m her best mate, and this woman loves cats more than breathing, so if you’re deathly allergic, then trust me, pal, I’m doing you a favour.”

  Jasper clumsily moves to stand behind the chair, and I can’t fully tell who he’s more terrified of at this moment—Mac or the cat. He looks to me, his hands trembling as he says, “Mind picking up the cheque?”

  I blink back my shock, and without another look back, Jasper takes off out of the restaurant, probably feeling like he won the lottery because he didn’t have to pay for his dinner.

  I stand up from my seat, rage tingling all over my body as I level a glare at Mac. “How dare you think you can come in here and sabotage another one of my dates!”

  Mac’s lips twitch with barely concealed amusement that makes me want to punch him. And hug him. Bleddy hell.

  He turns to face me and replies, “Cookie, if the man is deathly allergic to cats, it wasn’t going to be a love connection.”

  “It could have been,” I reply, chewing my lip nervously and trying hard to ignore everyone staring at the spectacle we’re making. “There are shots people can get for allergies.”

  “The lad was terrified of this wee thing!” Mac smiles, holding up the pet carrier as proof. “There’s no shot he can take for being a big wuss.”

  “He’s not a wuss,” I argue half-heartedly as my eyes fall to the tiny kitten. “What are you doing with that poor thing in the first place?” I cross my arms over my chest and try to tell myself not to ask him to hold it because we’re in a restaurant full of people and I currently hate the ground Mac walks on.

  Mac shoots me a crooked smirk, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he replies, “I’m trying to give you your best birthday ever, Freya.”

  My face falls as I bend over and look into the cage to see the stunning blue-eyed, long-haired kitten inside. “Did you get this precious darling from Roger?”

  “Aye,” Mac replies with a smile. “For you.”

  I stand up and huff incredulously, “Mac, you can’t just give me a kitten and expect things to go back to normal with us. You and I are in a massive fight, and teasing me with an adorable kitten that will only terrify poor Hercules means we’re in a second fight!”

  “You’re wrong, Cookie,” Mac replies, shaking his head and stepping closer to me. “You think Hercules is too scared to accept another cat into his life, but I think Hercules needs this cat to get him to finally come out of the shadows and live a wee bit.”

  My eyes gloss over at Mac’s words because somehow, I don’t think he’s talking about Hercules. “Hercules is just fine in the shadows away from that kitten. At least there, he won’t get hurt.”

  Mac steps closer again, his tall form bowing over me as he says, “I think a bit of hurt in the beginning just makes it all the more worth it when it works out in the end.”

  I stare at his chest and hate myself for whispering, “How do you know it will work out?”

  His voice is low and deep when he replies, “Because we all have to come out of the shadows eventually.”

  The sound of the kitten’s high-pitched meow breaks the moment of electricity between Mac and I. Mac turns to the man sitting at a table beside us and hands him the bouquet of balloons. He sets the flowers down on the table before squatting down to take the kitten out of the pet carrier.

  My heart thunders in my chest when he stands up, holding the tiny ball of fluff in his tattooed arms, and I instantly wish I had my phone out to take a picture because this would be the cutest calendar picture ever printed.

  Mac smiles softly as he moves towards me. “By the way, I was at your place earlier looking for you and Hercules came out looking like he was about to pounce this wee bugger.”

  I look up nervously at Mac as his shoulders shake with silent laughter. “I opened the cage and let them meet, and you should have heard how loud Hercules purred.”

  “He purred?” I ask, reaching out to pet the soft kitty hair on the adorable darling’s head. “Wait, you were in my flat?”

  Mac coughs and murmurs, “I still have my key.”

  “Mac!”

  He sighs heavily, “I know I shouldn’t have, but I was desperate.” Mac hands the kitten over to me and sighs. “And I’m not sorry because I got to see them meet, and it was like Hercules was meeting his best friend for the first time. It was damn adorable.”

  My chin trembles as I cuddle the little dear to my chest and feel the vibrating of his body as he purrs and nuzzles into my neck, rubbing his sweet face all over me. My eyes tear up. “Two cats is going to be twice as much work.”

  “I’ll be there to help.”

  I laugh softly. “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious, Cookie,” Mac says, stepping towards me and reaching out to pet the kitty. “I’m not just here to give you a birthday gift. I’m here to ask you to move in with me.”

  “What?” I exclaim, my heart thundering in my chest. “What do you mean? You’re in Glasgow, you idiot.”

  “Aye,” Mac says, his hand moving up to tug on my hot ear, the tender affection sending a riot of goosebumps all over my body. He smiles proudly and adds, “But in January I’ll be back in London, and I thought then I could move in with you.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.”

  “The new contract I signed had a buy-back clause. Bethnal Green wants me back, and Rangers have agreed to it. Which means, when the transfer window opens up in January, I’m coming back to London to play for them again.”

  “What? How? How is that possible? Why did you never tell me that?”

  Mac’s brows lift. “I didn’t know myself
until last week. It was Santino, of all people, who set that all up. Apparently, he’s not the bawbag I thought he was.”

  I blink rapidly as I struggle to absorb everything he’s saying. “So, you’re coming back to London.”

  “I’m coming back, Cookie.” He reaches out and cups my cheek with his large, warm hand, his thumb stroking my lip briefly before he adds, “But I don’t want to wait until January to be with you. I want to be with you now. Always. I’m miserable in Glasgow without you. I want you to come out and live with me until I move back. We can spend Christmas in Scotland while you design your plus-sized pet clothes. We can be together and get back to the way we used to be.”

  “The way we used to be?” I croak, my throat closing up with anxiety because his words are so close, yet so far away from everything I need to hear. I pull away from his embrace. “Mac, I’m done with what we used to be. I have spent far too many hours with you, and now I have these beautiful romantic ideas stuck in my head. Stuff that’s even more romantic than a Canadian cowboy on Heartland! And I want them for myself. I finally believe I deserve real love with someone who knows how they feel about me. I can’t do this with you all over again. I can’t survive losing my best friend and the man I love all over again.”

  Mac exhales heavily, my words clearly knocking him off his feet. But I don’t care. I won’t be silent anymore. I won’t have quiet feelings about what I want out of life anymore. I’m not the same person who just accepts what’s in front of me. I need more. I’m worth more.

  Mac growls, agitation written all over his face. “Christ, how did I know you’d bring up bloody Heartland tonight?”

  “Because it’s the hallmark of our lives together, Mac!” I snarl, my voice sounding seriously scary.

  “I bought you a fucking kitten, Cook! I’d say that’s Heartland-level romantic. I at least thought it would soften up your disposition towards me as of late.”

  “Of course, a kitten would soften me up. I love kittens!” I shriek.