Page 51 of Chasing Blue
“Then you won’t mind or be surprised that the answer’s no,” I tell him with a headshake and a small smile. “Kissing will lead to other things, and I’m not ready.”
His hand remains at the side of my face, thumb still gently brushing my cheek. His actions make me feel drunker than the alcohol I’ve consumed. He leans in, and I feel his warm breath on the side of my face.
“Not ready, Blue? Not sure I believe that”, he says into my ear. “Took a while till you let me in, but when you did, I remember you were definitely ready.”
I have to close my eyes against the impact of his words. They have my stomach churning, my head spinning, and my legs crossing at the memory of the night I finally let him slide his hand inside my knickers, then inside of me.
“Mentally, Jack. Physically?” I shrug. “I’m only human and could easily go there, but mentally, I need time,” I open my eyes and admit.
He studies me for a long moment before one side of his mouth pulls up into a half-smile.
“Remember the first night we danced on the beach, and I taught you how to jive?” he asks.
I do remember becausethatwas the night we’d finally taken things just that little bit further. It was hot and humid, so when I’d finished work at the bar, we’d walked across to the beach for a swim. Jack had left the music playing from his truck. It was an old mix tape that he’d told me had belonged to his mum. The music was Motown, and he shared how his mum and dad would jive together in the family room or out on the back deck of their home. I love to dance, but had never jived, so he taught me.
It became our thing that summer. We’d dance on the sand in front of the full beam of his truck. The memories of how good he made me feel, fill me with a warmth that spreads from my belly before wrapping around my heart as I begin to drown in his eyes.
Before I give in to him and my lack of inhibitions, I move my head so it’s out of reach of his mouth and his perfect but dangerous lips.
“Sugar Pie Honey Bunch,” I say with a smile. “I remember. Just like you, I remember it all.”
He nods, his eyes gentle because he hopefully understands that I mean the hurt he caused as well as the good times we shared that summer.
“I’ll make it right,” he says quietly.
Again, I have to close my eyes against the pain I feel in the missing piece of my heart.
Does that even make sense? If it’s missing, not there, gone, why does it still hurt so bad? Is it the raw, jagged edge it left as it was ripped away, or does the ache come from the hollow emptiness left behind?
I can’t ask Jack for the answer, he has no idea how much his words hurt, how he’ll never be able to make it right.
“You can try, but it’s gonna take time,” I tell him as honestly as I’m able.
“Fair enough. Let’s just get you home to Maca then,” he says with a slow nod. I’m an emotional mess, therefore, both relieved and disappointed at his easy acceptance of my rejection, but don’t get a chance to respond before Span says from beside us, “Sorry to break up the D and M, but the party’s over, I need my beauty sleep.”
* * *
After handshakes,back slaps, kisses, and cuddles, we follow Shannon and Zoe out of the door.
Jack turns back to respond to something Anthony calls out. He still has a hold of my hand, our arms stretched between us as I turn the corner to our apartment block.
Zoe keys in the building’s entry code. As we wait for the doors to open, my arm slackens as Jack catches up and rounds the corner. It’s when I turn to look back at him that I catch movement to my right.
“You cunt. I’ve lost my fucking job because of you, you fucking little bitch.”
Jack yanks on my arm pulling me behind him, and I don’t even see the blow Matt delivers to the side of his head coming, just Jack’s head swinging to the side, his knees buckling, and his hand releasing mine before he folds to the floor.
I’m pulled forward.
Because I didn’t let go of Jack’s hand, I’m pulled with him as he falls.
One hand joins the other, so both of mine are gripping his. Driven by pure instinct, I pull against his dead weight with everything I have in me, but still, his head hits the tiled entryway to our building with a sickening crack.
I’m not sure if it’s me or Zoe who’s screaming. Someone is shouting to call for an ambulance as I drop to my knees beside Jack.
He’s fallen to his side, and I’m unsure what to do. Do I leave him like this or adjust his position?
“What do I do?” I ask as chaos reigns around me.
