Page 47 of If We Were Young

“No, I didn’t.”

One of his dark eyebrows lifted. “No?”

My head hurt, really bad. “Natalie.” Her name stamped like a statement that didn’t need explanation.

He shrugged.

“Why are you here though? You left.” I tried to find the anger I had pumping through my veins earlier in my office, but it seemed to be hiding.

“I came to apologise. Little did I know I would find you holding hands with your head designer.”

Well I was affronted now. “I was not! Natalie was holding my hand; she was breaking the news that I’m too old for dating.”

He laughed, and it bounced around the car. Wow. I didn’t know he still had the capacity to laugh. It did something funny to my insides.

“Why were you apologising?”

“Because I was an arsehole and I couldn’t leave it like that.”

“You normally do.”

“That’s not fair, Ronnie.”

Oh, hold on. I had my anger back.

“I need to get home. I didn’t tell my mother I was going out.” I cringed as the words ejected themselves out of my mouth.

He huffed out a blast of air.

I didn’t need to explain my living arrangements to anyone. Not now. Not ever. Or, whatever.

“It seemed easier after Paul died. My dad died three months after. It made sense for us to join forces.”

His gaze mesmerised me. It almost sucked the wine out of my system. “Still doing everything to keep everyone else happy, Ronnie?”

“Not everyone.” My mind flickered to my Sahara dry spell and my cheeks warmed. Not helped by the fact he looked like that, and his car smelled all nice, and wine controlled my brain.

“I’m sorry I hurt you in that club all those years ago. I was so…” He glared out of the window and I was glad I wasn’t the glass. I’d be cracked in two.

When he turned back, it felt like I’d slipped into the past as a secret intruder. Vulnerability lined his face, his lips turned slightly at the corners.

I wanted to touch him, to smooth my palm against his cheek.

I didn’t.

“You can’t blame me for not having a clear answer. You turned up out of the blue. You’d left me only an hour before to meet her, then the next thing I know you were back on the doorstep asking me if I’ve thought about something that I didn’t know you’d put on the table.”

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and his chest, wrapped like a delicious present in black wool, heaved slightly. “You’ve always been so careful. I knew that. And I knew you struggled with articulating. So that’s why when I went to the train station to meet Julie, I told her I needed a break. I sensed the words you wanted to say inside you, and I was willing to wait.”

“What?” I sat up against the leather seat, my hands sliding. What exactly was he saying?

“It took longer than I thought. I mean it came as a bit of a surprise to her. I got back and went to the club to find you. I wasn’t even going to say anything. I just knew I’d made the right decision.”

I stared at him wide-eyed. “Why didn’t you say anything? Even just as your best friend that’s big sharing news.”

“Because I saw you kissing someone else, Ronnie. I saw you outside the club. And then I realised why you hadn’t said yes to me. Because you weren’t interested in me in that way. I felt like the biggest dickhead ever.”

“You saw me what?” Shit, I needed to drink some water or something. My brain had stopped working normally.