Page 31 of Still Falling for You

‘Well, running didn’t sound dramatic enough. They sort of hobble like pirates but saying a hobbling herd of goats attacked me sounds pathetic.’

‘I agree,’ he offers in a deadpan fashion so characteristic of Alex.

He gently applies a plaster to the cut, smoothing both ends down. Fingers swiping side to side, he keeps rubbing the plaster, like he’s got stuck in the motion. There’s no blood in sight so I let myself fully focus on the sensation. At the sight of goosebumps spreading up my calf, he realises what he’s doing and stops with a self-conscious cough.

‘Why are you being so nice to me?’ The words spring out of me without volition. I roll down my jean leg to give myself something to do.

He lowers himself in resignation until his bottom is parked on the cold tiles. ‘Because I’ve been unfair to you.’ I quirk an eyebrow. ‘I heard what you said to Danielle.’ He looks momentarily embarrassed.

I bite my lip. ‘I don’t like gossipmongers.’

‘I don’t either. I got you all wrong. We’re adults, and I know I haven’t been fair or particularly welcoming.’

‘You’ve been an arsehat,’ I interject. To my surprise, he chuckles at that. Maybe Catherine is right, and he has changed.

‘I have, haven’t I? As your mentor, I’m supposed to support you. We’re colleagues. I want to lay our weapons down and let go of the past.’ He echoes Catherine’s words.

‘A truce?’ he offers, and his voice is laced with urgency. I think about it for a moment, but the alternative of continuously arguing is exhausting just to consider. I can’t forget the past, but I can ignore it for the time we have to work together.

Eventually, I nod and test the word on my tongue. Then, I proceed to unbuckle my invisible gun holster, gingerly placing it down on the floor next to him, followed by an invisible dagger plucked from my boot and lay it by his feet as a peace offering.

Shaking his head in amusement, Alex releases a breath I didn’t know he was holding. He utters, ‘I’ve had enough of swine for today. I can’t believe you said that.’

I can’t help but grin.

A strange warm sensation bubbles in my stomach. I try to shut it down, but it lingers. Who knew that Alex and I could share a joke?

14

I don’t participate in the rest of the activities on the farm and only watch from afar. During lunch, we all sit at the back of the house on makeshift benches, eating our various sandwiches. John sits next to me for a while, sharing his Coronation chicken sandwich with me, and this time, he doesn’t attempt to flirt. He’s extremely polite which is very unlike him.

I try to filter out Alex’s presence two benches away, but his eyes bore into the nape of my neck with unnerving intensity. Since our truce, he hasn’t stopped peering in my direction whenhe thinks I’m not looking.

To avoid kids overhearing him, John leans closer, and his head ends up in my personal space. As soon as he realises what he’s doing, he respectfully pulls back.

‘Are you going to Becky’s birthday party next Friday?’

Despite not being much of a party girl, I said yes to Becky because she’s been nothing but nice. ‘Yeah. Are you going?’ I enquire politely.

‘Hell, yeah.’ He raises his hand to high-five me. I end up high-fiving him back like a ten-year-old because I don’t want to create any more tension today. He must misread my assuaging gesture because a brilliant smile spreads across his face. I thank whoever above for the fact it’s half term next week and I won’t have to see anyone for a week.

He leaves to sit next to Danielle after that, but to my surprise, I’m joined by Becky, and then Alex, himself, who says he just wants to check on me but stays with us until the end of lunch. Immediately, Danielle’s expression turns distinctly sour like an unripe lemon. I can smell hereau de disapprovalall the way from the back bench she’s sitting on with John.

Alex ends up sharing a cinnamon madeleine with me, professing he’s too full, but I know that Alex has always been obsessed with madeleines. I guess he’s really trying this truce thing.

That night, I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow despite my leg being uncomfortably propped up on two pillows. But I’m not given any respite as one vivid dream chases another.

In one of them, I’m swarmed by an angry herd of guinea pigs, ill intent glowing in their rat-like eyes as they’re swiftlyclosing the distance. When I look about for a weapon to fight against the deadly rodents, I notice I’m wearing denim head to toe. It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen, and now that I think about it, it reminds me of the infamous double-denim outfits worn by Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake in 2001. I’m also shrieking like I’m in one of those B-movies while my fake cowboy hat attached to my head with a red plastic string keeps falling into my eyes.

A thunderous galloping of a horse and the heavy breaths of an animal pushed to their limit are sounding in the air. Blocking the flaming sunset, a lonely rider rushes to my rescue. His heavy hat hides his face, but I catch glimpses of brown hair that resembles John’s. The urgency of the situation is forgotten for a moment as I take in the powerful thighs dressed in heavy cowboy leathers. The rider’s long limbs dig into the beast’s sides when he speeds up. But then the thighs morph under the leathers into slimmer, more athletic legs and when they press against the horse’s body, something clenches inside me almost painfully. The rider’s shoulders broaden, and his waist, strapped with a heavy belt, tapers. My pulse picks up at the familiar shape of the man’s body.

The cowboy’s pale throat, not obscured by the hat’s brim, is glistening with sweat. When he closes the distance, his hat slides to the side and reveals Alex. My body clenches deliciously. His hair is longer, like it used to be at school, and his mouth piercing is back in place, gleaming on his bottom lip. It makes me think of what it would feel like between my thighs.

During my torrid thoughts, all the guinea pigs have progressed close enough to nip my feet, which are suddenly bare. Just as the closest guinea pig opens its maw to bite down on my left toe with its overlarge front incisors, Alex’s long arm releases the reins and grabs me by the waist. He heaves me in front of him with an easy swoop. His warmth surrounds my body, and the solidness of his chest presses against my back, his upper body muscles shifting as the horse spins. Alex’s powerfulthighs squeeze my legs as he urges the horse to move faster and away from the danger.

The feel of his physique raises all the hairs on my body, the anticipation of what might happen next unbearable. The front of the saddle digs into my intimate parts in an almost painful way, and the motion of the rocking horse and Alex’s body pressing against me is making my core melt.

My body starts moving. Up and down. Up and down. Until I fall apart so hard I wake up. I curse and wipe the sweat from my forehead. I feel ashamed and angry at Alex for being the main protagonist of my dream. Now I definitely won’t be able to look him in the eye. Truce or no truce.

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