Page 18 of Play On

There’s no undoing what I did. I told Noah I didn’t see a romantic connection with him and effectively torched any feelings he might have had for me, despite what Nicholas thinks.

Panic grips me. It becomes harder to breathe as the finality of what I’ve done hits me.I’ve completely stuffed this up.I’ll never ever have an opportunity to be with Noah after sending him a text like that.

I know I barely knew him. I know there’s going to be many more men in my life. If this were meant to be, it would be. I know all of that crap you tell yourself when your heart hurts.

But my heart is telling me I’ve made a massive mistake.

And there’s nothing I can do to fix it.

Chapter Five

Kensington

I pull in front of our family’s Georgian-period home in Kensington, turning off the engine to my car. I’ve just made the two-hour drive from Dorset, and now I’ll be in London for the next few days. Tomorrow, I have dinner plans with Bella, and Thursday, I’ll be helping with the art project at the school she is visiting.

And I would have had my first date with Noah if I hadn’t shoved him away.

I push that painful thought away as soon as it enters my head. I get out of the car and hit the button for the boot on my fob. It opens for me, and I retrieve my bag.

I stare up at the Grade II home that has been in my family for as long as I can remember. I haven’t been here in a while, and I’m eager to spend some time in London. I’ll spend the weekend here and go back to Wintersmith Hall on Sunday afternoon.

I’ll be so distracted by all the things I can do here; I won’t have time to think about Noah.

So why are you thinking about him now?My heart whispers.

I slam the boot shut and wish I could do the same with my thoughts. I sigh and make my way up the pavement to our house,retrieving the keys from my bag as I walk up the front steps and let myself inside the silent home.

I’m greeted by a house that is nearly the complete opposite of what I left behind in Dorset.

I set down my bag and suitcase and wander into the living room, which is decorated in blues and whites. Mum did this whole space with a more updated feel to it. Her big thing is her Chinoiserie ginger jar collection, which is beautifully displayed in white built-in cabinets. The sofas are white, and oversized navy armchairs anchor the conversation area. The glass coffee table has an array of LED candles set in a tray, and beside it, a glossy coffee table book about gardens. There’s a flat-screen TV hanging over the fireplace—which is also filled with LED candles—and family pictures in silver frames adorn the mantle.

I move over to the photos, reviewing them. I see happy family pictures. Some of me and Nicholas. Holiday trips and Christmases. There are all sorts of family memories captured here on this mantle.

One day there will be a picture here of Nicholas and Amelia, I think, tracing my finger absently along the shelf. Yes, I know they’ve only just started dating, but they were always meant to be together. So Mum will make room on this mantle for pictures of them. Their engagement photo and wedding …

Suddenly I get an image of frames filled with snapshots of me and Noah. Me wearing his jersey at a Stonebridge United game, cheering him on. My family supporting him with me at a match. Pictures of Christmases and New Year’s Ev—

What am I doing? Why do I insist on torturing myself like this?

I will never know if there could have been a me and Noah, thanks to my fears.

I blew it with Noah. B-L-E-W I-T. All caps. There’s no taking back what I said. Why would he trust me enough to even contemplate that?

Understood.

The word is sharp—I can practically hear the hurt in Noah’s voice from the way he texted me back that answer.

You can’t come back fromunderstood.

And wouldn’t the inevitable happen and I’d disappoint him with my flighty ways? Annoy him with my continual state of floundering?

You made a mistakeby shutting him down,my heart tells me.

You did not,my head counters.

“Shut up!” I yell to myself, absently kicking at the iron candleholder in the fireplace in frustration. I send the pillar candles tumbling in all directions, and curse at them.

Then I curse at myself.

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