Page 45 of Broken Heart Syndrome
Another image flashed through my mind: of Tom and me out at the multiplex, arguing good-naturedly over what to watch, with me trying to convince him that the remake ofEvil Deadprobably wasn’t that gruesome. The image of us doing something mundane and normal together as a couple was so beautiful, and something I had stupidly pined for so long, that I felt my chest squeeze at the knowledge that it wasn’t for the likes of me. I needed to remember that. He watched my face. The amusement fled from his, and he frowned.
‘Frankie?’
I looked away from him, searched the grounds of the stately home to locate the marquee, then glanced at my watch.
‘We’d better get going,’ I said, grabbing the handle of the passenger door. Before I could open it, Tom’s hand shot out and over mine at the handle, his big body hovering over me on the seat.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ I lied. ‘I just really need to get the cake in there.’
‘Bullshit. I just got you laughing flat out with me for the first time and now you’re totally shut down. I want to know why.’ He was too close again.
‘Look, the cake –’
‘Bugger the cake. Why?’
‘Tom, I need to –’
‘Why?’
I felt my blood start to boil – why couldn’t he just bloody let it go?
‘We’re never going to go to the cinema together, that’s why,’ I blurted. His brows drew together and his eyes flashed, all of which I ignored. ‘Look, I’m sure Cassie loves chick flicks.’
‘I’m sure she does,’ he returned. ‘So what?’
‘So, she’s your girlfriend. You guys can go enjoy sappy films together to your hearts content. I hearThe Notebookis suppose to be particularly vomit-worthy.’
‘Firstly, she’s not my girlfriend, Frankie, not anymore anyway. I would have thought that much was obvious seeing as I spent last night in your bed. Secondly, don’t knockThe Notebook.’
He grinned and I decided to ignore the second point (I was fairly confident that watchingThe Notebookwas not compatible with XY chromosomes, unless you were in the ten per cent of the male population that was gay), and focused on the first.
‘You broke up with Cassie?’
‘Jesus, Frankie.’ Tom let me go and sat back in his seat. ‘How much of a prick do you think I am? I spent the night with you last night.’
I scoffed, ‘Only because you took me home and felt responsible to make sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit.’ He sighed and I could tell his patience was slipping. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and ran his hands through his hair. When he opened them, he seemed calmer.
‘Right, we’ll get the cake inside that massive tent –’
‘Marquee,’ I corrected automatically.
‘Then we’re going to get a few things straight. The first being that I’m taking you out tomorrow.’
Chapter 17
Worth it
Tom stalked down the corridor to his office, holding onto the last of his patience by a thread. He knew from what Frankie had revealed when her guard was down that she liked him. Bloody hell, she had even said she loved him.
He could see how she reacted when he got close: her body would still and she’d even hold her breath, she was so tense. A woman did not have that reaction with a man unless she was crazily attracted to him. Despite this, he was not having any success in his attempts to spend time with her.
Even after helping her decorate a goddamn cake all day (something which he never thought in a million years he would have enjoyed, but standing next to her in that small kitchen, smelling her perfume, watching her hands effortlessly create beauty with such skill, precision and speed, he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather have been), he still wasn’t breaking through.
After delivering the cake, he’d driven her back to her flat and had decided to finally sort things out with her with no distractions. When they arrived her door was ajar. He thought this was weird, as Lou had assured him that she would be gone till late evening, and he was sure he’d heard Frankie shut it as they left. He was further alarmed that on seeing the door Frankie’s face drained of all colour and she proceeded to usher him towards the exit in a manner which seemed almost desperate.
She was hiding something.
