Page 24 of Take My Breath Away
“Good, because that means you can meet me at The Breaker’s Yard. There’ll be a glass of something chilled and white waiting for you in five minutes.”
The empty place in my chest begins to fill. My day has just got a whole lot better.
* * *
I spot James as soon as I push open the door to the pub. God, but he looks good. Suited and booted, sharp and clean cut, a silver fox fantasy in classic Saville Row. Is it any wonder I’ve harboured a crush on him since the first day I set eyes on him? There’s no denying James is very… crushable.
In truth it makes me feel a bit silly, because crushes are only for teenagers. Allegedly. Perhaps I should call it an infatuation instead. Hmm, no, perhaps not, because that makes me sound like some kind of stalker.
Lounging back in his seat, I’m struck once again by his ease and self-assurance. It’s magnetic, and I’m not the only one who recognises that, because the guy James is talking to is focused completely, one hundred percent on him. The guy’s so tall and muscular, he could’ve stepped out of a fitness magazine. He’s smiling as he runs his fingers through his hair, flirting for all he’s worth, and James is smiling up at him and something cold and heavy settles in the pit of my stomach. Jealousy, as hard and unmissable as a punch in the face.
But what’s the point of jealousy? A man like James won’t look at a man like me…not seriously… we’ve become friends, but that’s all…
James says something to the man and they both turn to look at me. My heart lurches. I’ve been standing here gawping because I didn’t think they’d seen me, that I’d been as invisible as I always am.
Mr. Muscles doesn’t look happy, but James’ smile is wide and bright but also softer. Even across the busy pub, it’s impossible not to know that he’s looking at me and only me, as though there’s not a soul around. A bump and a muttered apology shakes me out of my trance. The hubbub rushes in and breaks the spell. Mr. Muscles has gone, leaving James alone at the table where he’s waiting for me.
“New Zealand sauvignon blanc.” He edges the glass across as I sit down opposite him. “That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Thank you.” I take a sip, swallowing down the wine as I swallow down the urge to ask who the guy was.
“How was work? I hope Elliot’s not been giving you a hard time and keeping you chained to your desk?” He smiles at me over the rim of his glass, mischief shining in his eyes. I shake my head, and laugh.
“No, that’s not his style. I mean that’s not to say he doesn’t expect me to work hard because he does, but I enjoy working for him.”
“I’ve not seen him for a while, I really must get in touch.”
“He’s gone to meet Freddie this evening. A date night, by the sound of it.” Despondency creeps into my voice.
“Oh?” James quirks his brows in response, looking at me as though he’s waiting for me to elaborate. I swallow the groan. Elliot’s my boss, but he’s also James’ best friend. I’m wondering what to say, when James throws me a lifeline.
“Was Elliot getting all moony? And by that, of course, I don’t mean was he showing you his naked arse.”
Thank God I’ve not got a mouthful of wine, because I’d be spraying it all over James.
“No,” I splutter. “They were just having that couply kind of conversation.” I sip my drink and look out over the busy pub. Couply conversations. Date nights. What to do together over the weekend. Deciding on trips away… All the things people do in happy, settled relationships.
“Ah, the couply thing. I think if awards were handed out for coupledom, they’d be getting one with a big pink bow tied to it. It’s the road they’ve taken and I know their journey will be smooth and strewn with rose petals, but for me it was scattered with rocks, pot holes and more than a few landmines.”
I start. I’m not totally surprised by what he’s said, but more the fact that he’s said it, and to me. It’s the first piece of truly personal information he’s given me.
“It didn’t really work for me, either.” The car crash that was Grant, but he wasn’t the first, not really. Boyfriends who made it clear they weren’t interested in much after the first few fucks.
“Not yet, but I’m sure it will. I think being settled and living in a nice house with a white picket fence will suit you. No doubt you’ll have a dog, too, that wears one of those tartan coats.”
“You’re taking the piss,” I grumble, but I rather like the picture he’s painted.
James laughs. “Just a little. Some are cut out for that kind of life. For those who aren’t, try though they might, they’re ultimately doomed to failure.”
His brow creases and he takes a slug from his glass. He looks over the rim at me, meeting my eyes and seeing no doubt the million questions I’ve got about what’s put him on the rock-strewn path. James sighs and puts down his glass.
“There’s no reason not to tell you, because it’s no big secret.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything.”But I hope you will…
“I know, but I want to. But first, we’ll have another drink.” He jumps up and weaves his way to the bar, leaving me hanging on the cliff edge.
The place is getting busy, and it takes him a little while to get served. I watch him as he laughs and chats with other customers, drawing long, admiring looks. He could have any man he wants in this place.
