Page 63 of An Unexpected Kind of Love

More silence as we walk, the drum of rain on our waterproofs giving a staccato rhythm to the day. Before us, verdant fields give way to mountains. Our destination is a pub before we loop back on the higher trail.

“You were on the phone a long time.”

“Longer than I meant to be,” I concede. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I mean, obviously Eli called, and I answered. I should have cut to the chase immediately and told him to go fuck off.”

He’s looking at me. Still unreadable. And I’m definitely starting to feel like I’m failing at something important. “What was the fight about?”

“Hard to say, really. Him and Ryan were squabbling about things, from getting his wheelchair into a restaurant and taxi, to…well, me,” I admit sheepishly.

Blake nods, digesting all of this as we walk.

“And that’s it, really. I hope he went home after that to sort things out with Ryan.”

I glance over at Blake. His profile, like the rest of him, is striking. His lips twist.

“Aubrey?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you tell him about me? That I was the reason you were out of town.”

And now I realize what that expression is: hurt.

I don’t know how to process that. “I didn’t realize we were at that stage of telling people about…things.” I wave a hand helplessly.

Shit.

We stop again as the rain comes down harder, and of course we’re having this conversation in a downpour, because why wouldn’t we?

He frowns at me. “Aren’t I important to you?”

“Ofcourseyou’re important to me. I mean, I’m here, right? With you.”

“But you didn’t tell him. Eli. The man who broke your heart.”

“Well—I know you’re private or, I guess, selectively public about things—” And true, he’s put a couple of scenic shots onto his Instagram, but certainly not of us out here.

“It’s a cop-out,” he counters, giving me a hard stare. “You need to figure out who you’re protecting in this situation. Him? Me? Or yourself?”

I open my mouth to protest. And it stings. “All of the above, I guess? I don’t know. I mean, what are we doing, exactly? Maybe we should figure that out.”

“Maybe you’ve already figured it out if you’re fielding intense calls from your ex in the middle of the night and giving space to that?”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of my daft ex—”

“Why wouldn’t I be jealous, or hurt, or whatever you want to call it, when you get a call like that and don’t think it important enough to tell me about it yourself? Like I don’t matter in your world, like I don’t even register,” Blake retorts, arms folded tight across his chest. He’s glorious but angry, and it’s hard to know if that’s just rain on his face or tears too. I could probably say the same for myself.

“Of course you matter!” I stare at him, pushing wet hair out of my eyes. “Blake. God. Listen. I’ve never met anyone like you before. You’re hot, sexy, funny. And you see a lot more in me than I see in myself. I didn’t tell you about the call because Eli was just jerking me around. Not because there’s anything there.”

“Are you sure?” he asks gently. “Because I think you’re holding on to the past pretty tight.”

I open my mouth again to protest, but once more, he’s nailing truths into my heart that are altogether too true. “I’m sorry. I should have told Eli about you. That we were away for the weekend.”

“I think…” says Blake slowly, dragging a scuffed toe of his boot through the grass. He looks hurt. “You need to figure out why you didn’t.”

“Who have you told about me?” I counter, stung. As if I’m someone to talk about. As if Eli deserves to know what’s going on in my life anymore.

Blake’s eyes widen. His mouth opens and shuts. “I haven’t…yet,” he confesses.

---