Part 82 (2/2)
”Who else?”
”Huh. Okay. How about Nate? Is he busy?”
”No idea. Haven't seen him today.”
Jax continues to chew the toast staring across the restaurant.
”Going somewhere special?” I ask and indicate his smarter than usual clothes.
Jax breaks into a huge grin and smooths the front of his dark blue s.h.i.+rt. ”Might be.”
”Another photoshoot without us? I heard about the GQ one. I bet Tegan had a few choice words to say about the hot model they draped over you.”
Jax doesn't reply, and pulls his phone from his pocket instead. His eyes s.h.i.+ne as he reads the message. ”Okay. If Nate isn't around, can you bring Fleur with you?”
”Where?”
He grabs my phone, types something, and hands it back. ”There.”
I study the map on the screen. ”Did you get the address wrong?”
”Nope.”
He's not serious.
No way.
”Are you out of your b.l.o.o.d.y mind, Jax?”
FLEUR.
I've ignored the shadows at the edge of my life, focused on my studies the way I did before Will. The problem is I'm not the way I was before. Will Campbell exploded into my world and blew apart my neatly ordered life. Stupidly, I thought I could return to who I was, but the shadow of his absence didn't leave. Dropping contact with Will made sense, his life had moved on and so had he; but when it comes to how I feel about Will, logic doesn't exist.
When we met yesterday, it was clear neither of us had moved on. When we kissed, the desire to be Will's took over; and after a few hours in his company, I knew I couldn't let him go. When I'm with Will, I'm with somebody who makes me believe I can take on the world if we're together. Perhaps it's his nature rubbing off against me; maybe it's the love that's clear in his eyes, which energises me the way it did before. All I know is that deep inside is a part that will never stop loving Will.
The intensity frightens me. I attempt to keep a handle on the desire to fall back into who we were because I know he's leaving tomorrow. If I spent a night in Will's bed, and then didn't see him for weeks, everything I'd allowed back to the surface would threaten my ability to cope when he leaves again.
I kept control of that last night; and after an afternoon together, Will went back to his hotel alone. Then I lay in bed and wished I'd gone with him. See? Fleur logic doesn't work. My body doesn't agree with the 'take things slow option'; my body's more interested in the 'grab what you can when he's here' idea.
Who am I kidding that we'll keep this at kissing before he returns to London?
Will arrives at my dorm room as arranged, dressed in a black s.h.i.+rt and jeans and wearing his signature grin. I don't even have a chance to walk into the room before his arms are around my waist and his mouth meets mine. I back into the room, Will's lips still on me and resist the temptation to unb.u.t.ton his s.h.i.+rt. My body flares to life, eager for the reunion we both want, which simmers beneath the politeness.
”I want to throw you on that bed,” he murmurs in my ear. ”But we have to go somewhere.”
”Where?”
”You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”
The air of amus.e.m.e.nt to his voice intrigues me. ”Try me.”
”It's a surprise.” He snorts. ”To both of us.”
I huff at him. ”Is this okay to wear on the mysterious date?”
Will takes his time in sizing up my dress, paying extra attention to the length and the cut of the material around my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and my skin heats as if he's touching me. ”You look perfect.” He moves his eyes to mine. ”And I think we'd better leave this room.”
I place a hand on his chest. ”We can't stay here for a little while?”
Will groans, ”No. I can't be late.”
”Intriguing.”
”Ha. Just you wait.”
And just like that, we're Will and Fleur again. Three months apart, and it took one meeting for the old us to reforge. My plan to take this slowly is naturally blown apart by the guy who lives his life off the cuff. I've avoided seeing him, scared of hurt. Now I understand I held onto the hurt that Will wanted to take away.
Will never hurt me, not deliberately; but once I was ready to speak to him after Christmas, he'd left the country. A broken relations.h.i.+p can't be mended when the couple aren't together and only interact by phone; it's impossible to judge what somebody is really thinking and feeling unless they're in front of you.
When Will sat with me yesterday, he no longer needed to say anything.
We step out of the taxi, onto the busy street. Will heads to the steps to the white-stoned council building, where a smartly dressed group congregate at the bottom, their excited chatter carrying through the air. A couple head down the steps toward us, and the man carries a baby. Bewildered, I follow Will up the stairs. Then stop. Printed signs on the wall point to different areas for registrations. Births. Deaths.
Marriage.
I stumble into the cool of the building. Is Will playing some kind of crazy joke on me? He wouldn't, this is beyond even his humour. Couldn't. If I wasn't speechless, I'd ask; but he catches my thoughts and shakes his head before pointing behind me.
I turn. Jax and Tegan are half-hidden in a doorway. Presumably, it's them. I can't tell as their faces are glued to each other. She's wearing a short, cream dress; the flared skirt stops above her knees and high-heels stretch her long legs to Jax's height. Tegan's brown hair flows down her back and I look away from where Jax's hands are on her a.s.s. Tegan's arms are draped around Jax's neck; and in one hand, she's holding a small bouquet of roses.
”Oh!” I say and snap my head back to Will. ”Are they...”
”Getting married? Yeah. Just two crazy kids in love,” he says in a false movie announcer accent.
”Wow. Who else is coming?”
”n.o.body.”
”What?”
”I told him, he's freaking mad. Then I told Tegan the same thing. They want two witnesses and n.o.body else involved. b.l.o.o.d.y typical of this pair.”
<script>