Page 3 of Unworthy
“Listen, Midge. I’ve got to get to work now, but I can–”
“Just go!” I snapped, surprising him and myself. “I mean, you’ve done enough. I’m fine. You can go. Penny’s waiting.”
He glanced towards the stairs, then back at me, indecision clouding his expression. Why couldn’t he just bugger off? I needed to nurse this latest humiliation on my own. Finally, he took his hand off the door and shoved both hands into his pockets.
“Okay, I’ll–”
“Bye, Heath.” I didn’t slam the door in his face, but I did close it. Turning around to take in my small space, my safe haven, I leaned back against the door and let out a long breath before sliding down the smooth wood to sit on the floor with my knees tucked up to my chest. My head fell forward onto my knees, and I allowed myself to let out a small sob.
“Soak your feet.” Heath’s loud command from the other side of the door made me jump, my head flying up. I thought he’d left and I’d forgotten how thin those doors were. I bit my lip to stop myself from sobbing again and held my breath until I heard a loud sigh from the other side of the door, followed by his retreating footsteps.
When I scrubbed my face to wipe away the wetness, my hands came away covered in dirt. This was the last time I embarrassed myself in front of the misguided crush of my life.
Grow up, Midge.
You’re ridiculous.
Maybe it was time I stopped obsessing about him and startedlisteningto him.
Chapter 2
Sting a Bit
Yaz
Bang! Bang! Bang!A loud impatient knocking startled me awake.
“What the hell?” I murmured as I levered myself up off the sofa, wincing when my feet hit the floor. It was late evening now, and I felt a hundred times better than earlier. After taking a shower to wash the bird crap from my hair and the caked-on mud from my body, I’d soaked in my bath with my aromatherapy oils for over an hour. On inspection, my feet did seem to have taken a bit of a battering. Two of the deeper cuts were still seeping blood after my bath, so before falling into bed I’d wrapped them up as best I could with supplies from the first aid box. By the time I’d woken up it was late afternoon, and I decided not to bother get dressed. It wasn’t like I could make it out anywhere with my feet the way they were anyway. Luckily I had booked no classes or clients in for today, as this was one of my first weeks off in months. But I wouldn’t be able to afford to take any more time off than that. My feet had better hurry up and heal. I’d hobbled around and found some leftover lentil curry in the fridge, settled on the sofa and hadn’t moved the entire evening. I was not best pleased to be having to get up now, truth be told.
“Alright, alright. Keep your knickers on,” I called out as the banging on my door ratcheted up a level. Max was an impatient bastard. I swore as I limped over to the door and yanked it open, preparing to blast Max for disturbing me. When I saw who was actually filling my doorway, I exhaled in a whoosh and took a faltering step back.
“Don’t you have the door locked when you’re alone in the flat?”
I blinked up at a visibly annoyed Heath, wondering why he had decided to come over to my flat and lecture me at this time of night.
“I–”
“And where’s your key chain?” He stepped into the flat, and started inspecting my doorframe. “You don’t have one.” He moved further inside and I shuffled backwards, too confused to object. “You don’t even have a decent bloody lock on this door. Does Max know about this?”
“I’m not a child, Heath.” I said through gritted teeth, feeling my face flood with heat. I was a pacifist, all about peace, love, harmony, non-conflict – it took a lot to rile me up. But Heath seemed to manage it within seconds every time I saw him. He was kryptonite to my chilled-out vibe.
“Could have fooled me,” he muttered, still poking around at my door. He was inspecting the other side now. “Ridiculous.”
I narrowed my eyes. Not this again.
“Did you just come here to tell me how shit my security is and call me a ridiculous child, or was there another point to your visit?”
“I’ll have to get Max to help me sort this at the weekend,” he went on, almost to himself. “He’s got that drill. We could use it to put a peephole in as well.”
“Heath! Will you stop fondling my door and tell me why you’re here, you high-handed prick?”
He shut the door behind him, giving it one last filthy look before turning back to me. His eyes dropped down for a second and his eyebrows shot up.
“Christ, Midge. Do you make a habit of answering the door like that?”
Resigned to the fact that Heath was not leaving any time soon, I rolled my eyes and limped back to the sofa. “I thought you were Max. And I’m wearing my pyjamasinmy home. It’s not my problem if you barge in late at night and the sight of my bare ankles offends your delicate maiden-aunt sensibilities.”
I’d collapsed onto the sofa by the time I’d finished my little speech and lifted my sore feet back up onto the cushions. There was nothing wrong with what I was wearing, but when it came to my clothes Heath had always been the biggest prude I’d ever encountered. When I ran my yoga sessions at Max’s office, you’d think I was parading around in a G-string and nipple tassels from the way Heath went on about my attire – and I’d be covered from my neck to my ankles. Granted it was with skin-tight lycra, but half the office turned up in full lycra every morning when they cycled in, and he never eyed any of them like they were indecent. And now I was wearing a perfectly respectable vest top and sleep shorts. Okay so maybe I didn’t have a bra on, maybe my cleavage was on display (there was really no hiding my cleavage – it was fairly abundant), and maybe there was more than a sliver of my stomach showing (I’d lost some weight recently and the shorts hung off my hips lower than usual). But I could wear what I wanted in my own damn flat!
