Page 50 of Just a Little Crush
“Since when?”
“Since the second I saw your car under that tree. Maybe for a long time before that, too.” Her face crumples. I can’t tell if she’s happy or sad, or both.
“So you realised you love me, and you decided to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Then what have these past few weeks been about?”
“I wanted to help you. Give you what you wanted. I know that’s selfish, I—“
“Oh right,” she says, throwing her hands up in the air. “Because you’resoookind, and generous. Oh look, there’s Alistair Rendall being a hero again, helping the sad lonely woman have a bunch of orgasms because nobody else will?”
“It’s not like that—“
“Iknow it’s not like that!“ She punches me in the chest and I wince. She’s stronger than she looks. “You’re a terrible liar Rennie, you could never fool me. I know you wanted all this as much as I did.” She moves to hit me again, and I catch her fist in my hand. “And I’m not sad and lonely, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to get with other people, trust me—“
A caveman growl rumbles from deep within me and it makes her snort laughing.
“God, you’re so hot when you’re jealous. Were you jealous of that physio guy?”
“Maybe,” I huff out. “Yes.”
“You know why I’ve been single all these years?” she asks. I shake my head. “I wanted to be with someone like me. And I didn’t think that was you, but I secretlyreallyhoped it was. You said I was hiding myself from you, but you’ve been hiding from me too, right?”
I let go of the breath I’ve been holding onto. Her hands come up to my cheeks and she tilts my head so I can’t look anywhere but at her.
“Alistair Rendall, are you afraid of me?”
“Of course not.” How could I ever be afraid of her? She’s beautiful, smart, outgoing, filthy. It’s me I’m afraid of. Me who has no self-control.
“Are you afraid to be with me?”
“Yes,” I confess. “What if I fuck this up? What if I hurt you?”
“You won’t. Or if you do, you’ll figure out a way to fix it. Just like if I hurt you, I’ll fix it. You and me are fixers. We’re always sorting shit out around here, what’s another thing?”
“Your heart and your body aren’t exactly on par with Rhyme Time and potholes, baby.” That earns me one of her beautiful smiles. The loose strands of hair that frame her face blow gently in the breeze.
She steps away from me, pacing back and forth, hands on hips. The look on her face is one of determination, this is how she has always solved problems. Pacing, thinking out loud.
“We’re so fucking stupid, you know that?” she says after a minute. “Why have we never talked about this before?”
“I had you pegged to marry a nice interloper who’d moved here from the city for a slower pace of life.”
“I thought you were having boring sex with the tennis mums.”
“You are obsessed with those women. I think you’re the one who is into them.”
“Never! They all avoid dairy, how could we ever be friends?”
I don’t know what else to say. She knows it all now. How much I want her, crave her, love her. For a long time there’s only the sound of the wind in the trees, and her eyes on mine. I don’t know if I can make her happy, give her everything she wants, but I’d rather spend the rest of my life trying than end this, us. It’s down to her now.
“Rennie, can you kiss me, please?”
I eat up the space between us, bring my hands to her hair, that beautiful bun that has tormented me for years, and take in all the features of her face. Her bright eyes, the last of her summer freckles, that button nose I’ve known my whole life.
“Don’t make me wait any longer,” she whispers and I lower my mouth, tug her in close, and give her everything she wants.
