Page 85 of Quiet Longing

Something flickered in Rhys’ jaw. “You can talk to her. I don’t claim ownership over my friends. If they want to keep in touch with Steph, they’re free to do so.”

There was a faint tension in his shoulders that told me he was trying to be more easy going than he felt, and though it was none of my business, a part of me yearned for him to open up and talk about what had really happened. Unfortunately, I had a feeling Rhys wanted to discuss his broken engagement about as much as I wanted to talk about my divorce and ex-husband.

Not at all.

Before I knew it, we’d arrived at the house. Rhys parked next to Aunt Jo’s car then came around to open my door. As I emerged, he held out his hand for me to take, and I wasn’t sure why, but I hesitated, staring at his large, slightly calloused fingers, the hint of dark hair at his wrist. My eyes flicked to his, and Rhys stared at me with such open patience and kindness that it knocked a little of the air from my lungs. He was offering me his hand, but he wasn’t forcing it on me. It was my choice whether to take it, and somehow, that made all the difference.

At last, I took his offered hand, a powerful zing of awareness sweeping through me when our palms connected. My hand felt small in his, practically engulfed, as he very gently smoothed histhumb over my knuckles, just once. He helped me out then let go.

“Thanks,” I murmured, shocked by how much I mourned the loss of his touch.

“No problem,” he replied, his words stiff.

He moved to step into the house when I said, “Rhys.”

He turned back, blue eyes absorbing me like he was cataloguing my features but unable to decide which was his favourite. Clearly, my imagination was becoming a littletooactive. He didn’t say anything, just waited with an open expression for me to continue. I cleared my throat, remembering what both Derek and Nuala had said about him being a vault and not really talking to anyone about the reasons for his breakup. “It goes both ways you know.” Again, he didn’t speak, just lifted an eyebrow. “The other day, you said you were a good listener if I ever needed someone to talk to. I just wanted you to know that I’m here, too, if you need a friendly ear.”

Some indeterminate emotion passed over his face before he nodded soberly. “Thank you, Charli.”

Then he turned back around and walked into the house.

23.

Rhys

She smelled the same.

It was clear to me having just spent an hour alone with Charli that I was very much still attracted to her. It didn’t help that her honey, almond, and coconut scent was just as potent as it had been when we were teenagers. And now, it permeated every nook and cranny of my car.

She’d come to me first, let me know that Steph was trying to connect with Nuala, and I was grateful to her. Couldn’t help getting a little lost in her honest, hazel eyes with those bright golden flecks as she told me.

I liked to be prepared when someone was hatching plans, and I had Charli to thank for the heads up. Albeit, Iwasaware that Steph wanted me back. She’d sent countless texts and voice messages begging to meet up, to talk things through. I’d declined, and she clearly planned to use Nuala—who Steph knew was too kind and open for her own good—to get to me.

And that bothered me because Steph didn’t care about maintaining a friendship with Nuala for any other reason than to keep tabs on me while also being connected to a wealthy family with good social standing. Steph collected powerful acquaintances like it was an Olympic sport. It was a side to her I hadn’t been wild about, but I’d accepted that she worked in PR, which made it necessary to maintain a list of connections. I got that, truly, but it irritated me to think of her using my best friends simply for what they might be able to do for her career.

Fuck, I was going to have to pay her a visit and set her straight once and for all.

I wasn’t looking forward to it. My ex could make an incredibly compelling argument when she put her mind to it. She just didn’t realise there was no argument to possibly convince me to get back together.

“Hey, you two!” Jo welcomed as I stepped into the kitchen, Charli not too far behind me. Had I mentioned how fucking delectable she always looked these days? Charli wore a lot of button-up shirts and cardigans, barely a scant inch of her smooth, olive skin left uncovered, but since I knew the tantalising curves hidden beneath, it only made me think about her naked more often. I was still recovering from when she anxiously unbuttoned her shirt, gasping for breath in my office while she struggled through a panic attack. I felt like such a worthless piece of shit for how my blood had rushed south when I’d caught sight of her cleavage. The woman was struggling, and there I was with a semi.

“The food will be ready in about another twenty minutes, so sit tight,” Jo went on.

“I’m starving,” Charli said. “Will you hate me if I grab a snack?”

“Something small,” Jo allowed. “Try not to ruin your appetite.”

“Not possible,” Charli replied, shooting me a smile that made my chest feel unexplainably tight as I sat down on a stool by the kitchen island. “My appetite is never ruined. I’m like a dog who doesn’t have the internal sensor that tells them they’re full.”

I grinned, enjoying seeing her more relaxed, probably because she was at ease in her aunt and uncle’s house. I felt the same way. Derek’s childhood home was one of the few places I’d always felt safe, especially as a teenager. It was a sanctuary away from all the bullshit at home.

Charli wandered into the pantry, emerging a few moments later with a small packet of crisps. Her eyes met mine as shepopped a handful in her mouth, and suddenly, I was plunged into the past.

We’d lost our virginity in that room. And afterwards, when we’d consumed as much of each other as we could for one night, we’d snacked on crisps and chocolate chip cookies. I’d held her in my arms, feeling like the luckiest bastard in the world.

Our eyes locked, and I noticed a small shiver go through her. Was she remembering, too? I was aware of her every step as she approached, moving closer until she reached me, mere inches away. She held out the bag, “Want some?”

My eyes flicked to hers, and I swallowed thickly, then silently, I nodded and leaned forward. She watched as I grabbed a handful, not letting her gaze drop while I shoved them in my mouth. She didn’t move, almost like she was holding her breath.

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