Part 38 (1/2)

I feel his hand brush against mine, and I automatically pull it away. I'm really sulking. On a slight growl, he tries again. I say nothing but pull my hand away. I'm in a mood and want him to know it. He'll get the message. He doesn't. He grabs my hand again, holding it in a vice grip, to the point of pain. It's what I would have expected. I'm beginning to read this man like a book. I flex my fingers, looking up to see his fixed glower fade into contentment, as I give up fighting and let him keep hold of me. Let him? Like I have any other option.

At this exact moment, the fates thought it would be riotously funny to send Matt's friend, James, bowling around the corner and down the street towards us. I try my d.a.m.nedest to free my hand, but he just increases the pressure around it.

's.h.i.+t! That's Matt's friend.' I spit urgently.

His scowl is back when he whips his face to mine. 'Mouth, your ex?'

'Yes, let go.' I try to prize his fingers off, but it's useless. After Matt's ”I want you back” plea, his subsequent ”I'm so sorry” speech and general c.r.a.ppy situation at the moment, it would be unfair for me to rub his face in it.

'I told you, Ava. I'll trample.' he warns, looking straight ahead at James, his face completely unaffected and determined, his grip harsh.

I try holding him back, giving me time to get myself free and avoid the impending disaster that would be James clocking me hand in hand with another man. I'm not one to cause anyone any unnecessary hurt, and this is completely unnecessary. Matt is feeling c.r.a.ppy enough, without Kate's snipe being confirmed.

I continue to struggle and Jesse continues to be a complete t.w.a.t. I am, quite literally, dragged closer and closer to James. It's only seconds before he looks up from his phone and spots me. He might not look up. Maybe we'll pa.s.s on the street and that will be it. Oh, I hope so, because there's not a chance of me shaking Jesse off, and an even lesser chance of him being reasonable and letting me go.

As we near, I resolve to stop struggling and drawing attention to myself. James is pretty wrapped up doing something on his phone, the chances of him looking up getting slimmer by each step we take towards him. I mentally send a string of explicit language to Jesse, jerking my hand to reinforce my anger, but he just looks straight ahead, continuing with his purposeful strides.

'Trample.' he growls.

Just as we're pa.s.sing on the pavement, I start to relax. We're nearly past James, but then Jesse speaks.

'You got the time?'

WHAT?.

The f.u.c.king stupid, stupid man! I die a thousand deaths on the spot as I'm forced to stand there holding hands with Jesse, right in front of James. I want to point to the dirty great big Rolex on his wrist, or yank it up and tell him the b.l.o.o.d.y time myself. He really is a self-absorbed, unreasonable rogue.

'Yeah, sure it's... Ava?' James looks at me, his brow completely furrowed.

My brain's in complete meltdown, trying to figure out what message it should be sending to my mouth. 'James,' I just about manage.

James does a tennis spectator performance, his eyes flicking from me to Jesse and back again. 'Urhhhh...are you okay?'

'Yes.' My voice is high pitched and squeaky.

He regards me disapprovingly, which is b.l.o.o.d.y rich, considering he was Matt's right hand man in all of his transgressions. I don't even know why I'm bothering to get my knickers in such a twist. After everything Matt has done, what do I care if he receives confirmation of me seeing another man? Now, I just feel furious with Jesse for taking it upon himself to decide when and how things play out.

'Time?' Jesse prompts shortly. I hope I'm the only one who can detect the hostility emanating from him.

James turns his stare on Jesse, giving him the once over, faltering when he clocks the Rolex. I mentally plead for him to give Jesse the time and not poke the rattle snake. James can be as c.o.c.ky as Matt, and upsetting Jesse would be a huge mistake.

'Yeah,' He glances down at his phone. 'It's ten to two, mate.'

Jesse doesn't thank him. Instead, he releases my hand, throws his arms around my shoulder and pulls me into his side, placing his lips gently on my temple. I look up at him, shaking my head in dismay. He's trampling. His upper body is puffing, and short of banging his fist on his chest, he may as well be p.i.s.sing up the side of my leg.

James watches, all wide eyed, as Jesse leads us away from him. I'm completely speechless. He's just made reference to our relations.h.i.+p as little more than f.u.c.king, and now he's marking his territory. I'm so confused by all of this. If I had the courage, I would just come outright and ask him. Why can't I do that? I know why. I'm worried about what he might say. These shallow waters are becoming trickier to navigate the more time I spend with this man.

As we near my office, he stops and gently presses me up against the wall with his body. He lowers his face to mine, his hot, minty breath warming my cheeks. 'Why would you not want your ex to know you're f.u.c.king another man?'

There we are. f.u.c.king! 'No reason, it's just not necessary.' I say quietly.

He reaches up, grasping my wrist to pull my hand down from my hair. 'Now, tell me the truth.' he demands softly.

How has he picked up on my bad habit so quickly? I've known my Mum, Dad and my brother all of my life, and Kate since secondary school. They've earned the right to this knowledge.

'Answer me, Ava.'

'He asked me to get back together with him.' I drop my eyes. I can't look at him. Not that I should care. After all, I'm only f.u.c.king him.

'When?' He grinds the words through clenched teeth.

'It was weeks ago.' I feel his hand tighten around my wrist as my muscles flex to raise my fingers to my hair. I'm so bad at lying.

He tips my chin up with his free hand so I'm forced to look at him. I'm not at all comfortable with the blackness burning in his eyes. 'When?'

'Last Tuesday.' I whisper.

His eyes narrow as he starts chomping on his bottom lip. What's he thinking? 'He was your something important that came up, wasn't he?'

Oh...dear. He's going to go spare. I watch as his chest puffs in and out, slowly and controlled. I'm not frightened a I know he won't hurt me. I've seen his reaction and subsequent prevention methods to a few bruises on my a.r.s.e, but he's just so intense in his reactions and approaches.

'Yes.' I admit quietly. I physically feel the ice air emanate from him at my answer. 'I need to get back to work.' I add. I need to remove myself from this situation.

His sludgy eyes bore into me. 'You won't see him again.' It's another demand.

This lunch hour has been a ma.s.sive eye opener. He wants complete control of me, and I get absolutely no say in it a none at all. Is this what I want? My head is a riot of mixed feelings and doubts. Why did I have to go and fall in love with the ultimate, unreasonable, challenging control freak?

I wait patiently for him to release me from his grasp. I have no idea what to say. Is he waiting for my confirmation to his demand? Should I give it? I'm not likely to see Matt again, not after his performance, but should I have to give my word to a man that I'm, apparently, f.u.c.king?

He watches me carefully for a considerable amount of time before his forehead meets mine and his lips move up, pressing against my brow. 'Go to work, Ava.' He steps back. I don't hang about. I leave him on the pavement and walk back to my office as fast as my shaky legs will carry me.

Pus.h.i.+ng my way through the office door, I'm met by Tom and Victoria's inquisitive faces. I must look as terrible as I feel. I hope they don't start asking questions about Mr Ward, or about anything, actually. I think I'll fall apart. I shake my head at them both as I make my way to my desk.

Sally walks out of the kitchen with a tray full of coffees. 'Ava, I didn't realise you were back. Do you want a tea or coffee?'

I want to ask her if she has any wine stored away in the kitchen, but I refrain. 'No, thank you, Sal.' I murmur, earning me a what-the-h.e.l.l-is-going-on look from Tom and Victoria.

I focus my full attention on my computer screen, trying to ignore the ache dwelling deep inside me. Jesse has some serious issues with control a or power, as he calls it. I can't do this a I can't expose myself to guaranteed heartbreak. That's exactly where this is heading.

My mobile rings and I'm grateful for the distraction from my turmoil. It's Mr Van Der Haus. Is he back? 'h.e.l.lo?'

His light Danish accent rolls down the telephone. 'h.e.l.lo, Ava. How did you find The Life Building? Ingrid has advised me your meeting went very well.'

He's ringing from Denmark to ask me this? Could it not wait until he's back? 'Yes, very well.' I don't know what else to say.

'I do hope that lovely little head of yours is swimming with ideas. I'm looking forward to meeting upon my return to the UK.'

He's called me from Denmark. He's referring to my head as pretty. Oh, please don't bless me with another inappropriate client. I'm having a hard enough time dealing with the one I've got.

'Yes, I got your email too. I'll have some schemes ready for you.' I've practically finished the mood boards and drawings. It just came to me all of a sudden a at a moment when my brain wasn't consumed with a certain other client.