Page 36 of Blindsided By You

I drag her across the corridor, positioning her in the doorway with one arm wrapped around her waist and her hand clasped in mine, knowing she’ll find it hilarious. I rest my chin on her shoulder, speaking directly into the shell of her ear.

“Poor guy,” I chuckle, “but you have to give him a ten for trying.”

The groom has retreated. Slumped on the bed, his face flushes as he glances up at us, standing in the doorway.

The bride, tears now sliding down her cheeks, tosses us a desperate look. I feel kind of bad taking pleasure in their wedding night disaster, but I’m betting she’ll forgive him soon enough. What will it take? A day, a week maybe, and they’ll laugh about it for the rest of their lives.

Jenna’s hand tenses under mine, her whole body stiffening. I straighten, glancing down at her face. She’s staring at the bride, cheeks drained of colour, and her brown eyes wide and stormy.

Does she know this woman? Or this man? I’m not sure what the hell is happening here.

Jenna scans the woman head to toe and her face crumples. That beautiful mouth turns downward and tears sparkle in the corners of her velvet brown eyes. It’s definitely the bride who has triggered this response.

The girl stares back at her, a puzzled expression creeping across her face, her dark brows furrowing. Jenna swallows hard, and in the next breath, although I can’t hear the sound over the fucking alarm, I feel the vibration of a huge strangled sob ripple through her body.

She breaks free of me and rushes from the corridor, back to her room, and shuts the door with a silent slam, the sound submerged in the still insistent alarm. I abandon the unfortunate pair and follow.

Faced with the blank door, I pause, uncertain what to do. Mercifully, at that moment, the alarm cuts off. The silence is ominous.

I have a choice to make here, and neither option seems attractive. Either I take this as a sign that for some reason, despite what’s happened between us tonight—or maybe because of it—Jenna doesn’t want me near her, and I should head back to my room. Or, I risk tapping on the door, hoping she’ll open up and let me in to face whatever lies beyond it.

One thing I know, if I go, I won’t sleep, consumed with worry, while she lies up here alone and hurting. I need to get into that room.

My phone chirps to life in my back pocket, and I wrestle it free. Nathan. There are three texts, two earlier unnoticed, ignored. I was busy.

Nate:Empty bed. So you’re not coming home tonight, I take it? Didn’t know you’d take the warning about my snoring so seriously. Should I be hurt you don’t want to share with me pretty boy?

Nate:Good on you mate. She’s got it bad for you. Just don’t let her father see you sneaking out of her room in the morning.

Nate:Where the fuck are you Geordie. Is Jenna with you? We’re all out front.

I stab out a quick message back.

Me:All good. Yes she’s with me.

That’s all anyone needs to know for now. Maybe Nathan will cover for us. But on second thoughts, he’s not the most imaginative bastard. Maybe I should feed him a story.

Me:We were in the back bar.

It’s not a lie.

Nate:At this hour. Yeah right. And I’m the fucking Pope. Ok I’ll tell Razor. Better hope he believes you mate because I sure as hell don’t. You dirty dog. You fucking lucky dog.

I don’t reply. At this point, I’m beyond caring about anything apart from the immediate situation. Jenna is crying in her room and I’m going back in there to find out why. As far as anyone working out that it’s two a.m. and we’ve been together this whole time, I’ll deal with the fallout in the morning. I close my eyes and reach for the handle. There’s an unyielding clunk.

It seems, with the alarm switched off, the door locking mechanisms have all come back on. Fucking wonderful. With only my own key card in my back pocket, I have no way of getting into this room.

I tap on the door and wait, but there’s no response. While I don’t want to bully Jenna when she’s obviously really upset aboutsomething, I’m going to need to be more demanding. Curling my hand into a fist, I give three sharp raps and put my mouth to the door.

“Jenna, let me in. Please.”

I stand there resting my head against the door; the seconds ticking by in time to my heavy breaths, as I wonder how I’ve managed to fuck this all up. One moment lying wrapped around her beautiful curves dreaming of what comes next, the next out here in the corridor with all my hopes dashed.

I jerk upright at the click of the door handle. The door swings open a little, and Jenna’s there, in the white dressing gown, her back to me as she walks away, heading straight for the bed.

I enter the room cautiously, pulling the door closed with a soft thud, and lean against it, unsure what to do.

Jenna’s already back in bed, head covered by the sheets. Muffled sobs hiccup from the tangle of bunched up white fabric. I have absolutely no fucking idea what’s brought her to this; what I did, what I didn’t do.

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