Page 72 of Ride the Wave

‘Yes, actually,’ I bristle defensively. ‘I wear trainers for exercise, but you know they wouldn’t go with this dress and…’

My sentence trails off because a tingling warmth is pooling in my stomach, rising through my chest. He’s angrier about me potentially hurting myself than upsetting him.

He really cares about me.

I swallow the lump rising in my throat.

The lift doors start to close, but he holds out his arm to stop them. They rumble open again. The interruption pulls me to my senses.

‘Look, I came here to emphasise that I had no idea who José was in relation to you, so, as such, I think you owe me an apology,’ I state, flicking my hair back over my shoulder.

His eyes widen in disbelief. ‘You thinkIoweyouan apology.’

‘Yes.’

‘You were out on a date with the man who’s trying to destroy my family’s business!’

‘I didn’t know that! You shouldn’t have spoken to me in that way.’

‘In what way?’

‘That thing you said about how you thought I was better than that. That wasn’t fair.’

His jaw clenches. ‘Fine. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but I was angry. Because of you.’

With a loud ping, the doors start closing again. He stops one of them with his fist, and they both retreat. ‘Fucking things,’ he mutters.

‘Surely it was obvious from my reaction at the bar that I didn’t know who he was when you explained how you knew him,’ I point out. ‘So how come you were so angry at me?’

‘I wasn’t angry at you.’

‘You just said you were angry because of me.’

‘Yes, angrybecauseof you, notatyou.’

‘That’s the same thing.’

‘No, it’s not! I was angry at the situation.’

‘What situation? That I was on a date with José?’

‘That you were on a date with anyone!’ he cries.

The infuriating ping of the lift doors breaks the silence. He puts his arm out to stop it, this time pressing his palm against the door firmly as it draws back into the side to stop it from even attempting to slide out again.

I stare at him, my heart hammering, blood pounding in my ears. His eyes are fixed on mine, his chest rising up and down with the shallow rasps of his breath.

‘You… you were jealous,’ I stammer, my brain trying to catch up.

‘Yes,’ he says in a low, gravelly voice. ‘I was jealous.’

My heart swells and, my eyes locked on his, I let out the tiniest sigh of relief. ‘Good,’ I whisper.

‘Good?’

Something flashes across his expression: surprise. Confusion, maybe.

Then it gives way to another: hope.

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