Page 76 of The Wedding Pact
‘Did I know her before I met her?’ Flynn asked, but he wasn’t making fun of her, it was more like his foggy brain was trying to unscramble what she was asking. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘It’s just that she looked familiar to me.’
‘Well, you’ve lived in Bath for a while, maybe you’d worked together for a bit, or jived together in the discotheque.’ He sniggered at his silliness.
This wasn’t the right time. As much as August wanted this off her chest, it would be selfish to throw this at him now when he was tipsy and happy, just to try and make herself feel better. Instead of continuing, therefore, she said, ‘Maybe that’s it.’
His eyes closed again, his face content, and as she watched him for a beat his breathing slowed, the smile in the corners of his mouth relaxing, and he began to drift to sleep.
‘Flynn?’ she said. When he didn’t rouse, she crept closer, until she knelt before him, her face near his. ‘Flynn?’ she whispered.
He stirred, only as much as that his hand raised and rested down upon hers, warm and heavy. ‘Mmm?’ he murmured.
‘Do you want to go to bed?’ she asked him, hoping to coax him into having a good night’s rest – not on the sofa – so maybe he could be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and she could speak to him tomorrow morning.
‘With you?’ he asked, confused at the question, and then fell back to sleep again.
‘Never mind,’ August replied, standing up and tiptoeing to her room, closing the door to the whole mess behind her.
The following morning, August was up early and in her running gear. She waited impatiently for Flynn to rise and shine, ‘accidentally’ being a little noisier around the flat than she would usually be.
At a few minutes to 9 a.m., Flynn opened his bedroom door and said, ‘Is it Sunday?’
‘It is,’ she said, handing him one of his own-recipe banana smoothies. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Okay once I’d peeled myself off the sofa and got into bed,’ he rubbed his still-cricked neck. ‘You’re very awake.’
‘I am. Do you want to go for a run with me?’
‘Not really,’ he yawned and she reached over and snatched the smoothie as he was about to take a gulp.
‘This is only for runners.’
‘That’s harsh, who else are you going to give it to?’
‘I’ll drink it myself.’
‘You already have one. Drink two and you’ll puke within five minutes. Last night was fun, huh? The dinner went well.’
August relented, handing him back the smoothie, but instead of answering his question just coaxed, ‘Please? Come for a run?’
He yawned again, a big, long yawn, and by the time it had finished he seemed ready to take the plunge. ‘Okay, but nothing massive.’
‘You’ve clearly never run with me before,’ August replied, and she drank her smoothie in small sips while he went and changed out of his pyjama bottoms.
August hadn’t decided quite how to broach the subject of whether Flynn’s first girlfriend after Yui might have targeted him as sabotage, but she hoped that the run, the first half at least, would pound some great ideas into her.
Chapter 54
August
Leaving the house, August was pumped, or at least, pumping herself up like she was about to start a marathon. The air was cold outside, the sky overcast. It was everything a November Sunday should be, with bare tree branches that tapped and scraped against window panes, roads dark grey thanks to a layer of overnight rain that hadn’t dried fully yet, and the breeze had a definite chill, not strong enough to be considered blustery but more the kind that follows you inside, clinging to your scarf ends, causing you to exclaim about there being a ‘hell of a draught out’.
Flynn had barely finished stretching before August took off down the hill. She ran a step ahead of him, dictating their path, and leading them through the length of the Royal Victoria Park, through the deserted streets in the centre of the town, and towards the River Avon behind the abbey.
August ran fast, faster than she usually did, as fast as she could manage until they reached the river. She was pink, panting, her breath rough in her upper chest. She came to a stop with a stitch in her side and sweat beads on the back of her neck, in her elbow creases and forming on her upper lip. Resting her hands on the cool stone of the wall above the river, August stretched her hips backwards, facing the ground, and wondered how she still didn’t know what to say.
‘Are you okay?’ Flynn said, jogging to a halt beside her. ‘Are you training for the Olympics or something?’
