Page 61 of Blindsided By You

Twoidenticalheart-shapedfacesswivel towards me. Two pairs of blue eyes meet mine—his soft greyish, hers bold like a summer sky—and I swallow down a cautious lump in my throat.

In the shower, I talked myself through all the reasons I’d kept this secret from my friend, and found every one of them lacking. So, as I would advise one of my clients caught out in a lie—or perhaps, more accurately in this case, a sin of omission—I’ve resolved to front foot this, use the truth as a weapon, control the narrative.

I’m sure Rachel has met this tactic in her line of work, but I’m hoping she’ll be more receptive, given she loves the other people in this scenario. I can’t swear I’ll tell her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, though. Not with Geordie there. That would require me to admit I’m terrified because I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen for him, and he can’t hear that. When the day comes, and he needs to end this, he’ll feel even worse about walking away. I won’t do that to him.

In one of my perfect little romance books, this would be the time I’d spill all, reveal I’m in love with him and he’d say he loves me too.We’d stand strong together against Rachel’s criticism. She would eventually capitulate, understanding love must win on the day.

This isn’t a novel, and so I walk towards him, my bare feet strangely loud in the silence between Geordie and his sister. Even more unusual is the way the atmosphere lacks the cutting tension I expected. He leans back, relaxed, and she softens too—not the formidable warrior queen I’ve seen her become. Once, when a guy hurled obscenities at us in a Soho club, she turned downright terrifying. But not today. The knot in my stomach begins to ease.

“C’mere sweetheart,” Geordie says, stretching out a hand from the huge armchair we call the Captain’s Chair—Nathan’s tribute to the Star Trek reruns that flicker endlessly on his massive telly. He pulls me onto his lap, looping one arm around me and drawing my head to his bare chest with the other. I feel small and vulnerable, but safe inside the protection of his arms. His lips brush my hair.

“You OK?” he murmurs.

“Yeah, good.” I whisper against his golden skin, still warm, although the room isn’t exactly tropical.

“Then I’m going to go grab a shower. Leave you two girls to talk. OK?”

I slide off his lap, holding his hand till the last possible moment, as if it’s a lifeline. He stands and gives Rachel a quizzical look. She responds with a tilt of her head towards the stairs, as if giving him permission to go.

I fold into the warm armchair, the lingering heat a message: Geordie’s got my back on this, offering me an encouraging hug as I prepare to submit to Rachel’s cross-examination.

However, she doesn’t speak, simply looks at me with those piercing blue eyes and raises one brow in question.

I hadn’t expected it to be just Rachel and me. In a complete reversal, I’ve gone from defendant on the stand, about to face curly questions in front of the victim, to a client sequestered in a private room with my trusted lawyer, a privileged conversation. Maybe, out of Geordie’s hearing, I can tell Rachel the truth. Not only will she judge me less harshly, it would be a relief to share the secret that’s screwing up my brain with the one person who will understand how I’ve ended up in this place.

However, that would require me to relinquish control. If Rachel knows how I truly feel about Geordie, no matter how much she swears not to tell him before I do, it’s still risky. Like the PR professional I am, I take charge from the start, deciding only to share the bits I can safely let her know.

“You’ve come to tell me this is all a bad idea, I suppose,” I croak out, my voice tentative despite my resolve.

“No. I actually came to remind my brother to keep checking in on Mum. He may have moved out—and now I think I know why.” A flicker of amusement crosses her feline stare. It’s there even with those she loves—this predatory grace that makes Rachel intimidating, even to us who know her best. “But he’s still the man on the spot. Mum’s making noises about going back to work. We both need to discourage that for a while. And he can do that better in person than I can on the phone—if he bothers to go around there.”

I leap to Geordie’s defence. “That’s not fair, Rache” I protest. “He calls in for lunch nearly every day. He was there when I stopped in on Thursday.”

“I heard you’d been. Thanks for going to see her.” The small smile that tips up the corners of her mouth is encouraging, then it fallsaway. She bites at her lip. “He only goes when Dad’s not there, I suppose.”

“Yeah. It’s best that way.”

“True,” she sighs. “Yeah, Dad was going on about him. Using the place as a doss house when he came home. Moving out without a moment’s notice. Whinging about Geordie never calling in. Still, him whinging about Geordie is nothing new.” She rolls her eyes and gives a dismissive shake of her head before returning to the elephant in the room.

“So, anyway, no, I didn’t come here expecting to find my brother and you cosied up in his bed, with the intention of talking you out of it. However, I’ll admit, when I saw your car, and the two of you in the window, I did think you’d done something…impulsive? Unwise perhaps?”

“And now?”

“I still do. But for different reasons.”

“And those are?”

“He’s smitten by you, Jenna.” I know this, but hearing it from her mouth is confronting. “And Jesus, the way you look at him, I could tell in a heartbeat, you’re gone for him too, even though he tells me you insist this is just casual.”

“It is,” I protest. “He understands I’m not ready for anything serious yet.”

“I don’t think he does,” she says, shaking her head. “And whenwillyou be ready? If you keep this up, probably never. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you should give it a chance, try a proper relationship again.”

“Is that fair to Geordie? Messing him around while I sort myself out.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now? Just giving it another name.”

I suck in a breath. It’s harsh, but deserved. I have no answer.

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