Blooming
Authors: Peyton Fletcher
Blooming
By
Peyton Fletcher
Text Copyright ©2013
Peyton Fletcher
All Rights Reserved
This
book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used
in
any manner whatsoever without the express written permission
of
the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
-----------
Although
based on some of the author’s personal experiences,
this
is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organisations & events
described
in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously.
Chicago
She stared transfixed at the
lips approaching her face, could she do this? No, ah, stop him, stop him. She
put her hand up to cover her mouth preventing him reaching any further, “I’m
sorry Max I just can’t.”
The look of bemused shock on
his face almost made her relent, but she knew it was no use and she knew the
pressure would just keep coming; it was time to make the break.
****
Bloomington, Indiana
Godamnit
she hated moving – and if not for two kindly but interfering neighbours wanting
their pound of flesh she wouldn’t have had to this time.
It wasn’t
easy living a life where you tried to avoid letting anybody get close, but it
was easier than letting people in so they started expecting things from you –
needing you, wanting to help you.
Jen cursed
again looking up at the building that was to be her new home - it looked safe,
solid, anonymous. The agent had said that the other tenants were young
professionals, a fashion designer, a nursing student and a lawyer, exactly the
kind of people guaranteed not to spend a lot of time in their apartment or
sticking their nose into their neighbours business.
The only
good thing was deciding to hire the professional movers who’d done all the
packing and set up the new place in no time at all, the only things to carry up
now were the things that made up her home office, items the control freak in
her wouldn’t entrust to anybody else.
She
stretched up briefly trying to ease her stiff legs and arms, four hours on the
road driving from Chicago, plus the two trips upstairs with boxes and she was
pretty exhausted. A lifetime of looking out for herself had made sure that even
standing at only 5ft 2 she had strong arms and legs and was no pushover when it
came to heavy lifting but, she admitted to herself, she’d had enough for one
day. One more box and the rest could stay in her beat up old car for the night,
all her real valuables were inside now.
Using the
keys she’d picked up from the letting agent, she opened the door to her 2
nd
floor apartment and surveyed her new home – just enough space for her, tall
windows that let in welcoming shafts of late afternoon sun, it felt right, it
had to, she couldn’t move again, her heart wouldn’t take it. This time she was
going to ensure she stuck to her life plan. Keep to yourself and don’t invite
scrutiny, immerse yourself in work and everything will be ok.
Taking a
deep breath and letting it out slowly, Jen felt a brief moment of guilt for the
way she’d left Chicago. Mr & Mrs Kenton were good folks and renting the
room above their garage for 3 years had been a great way to live cheap while
she established her website design business. But little by little they’d
invaded her life; trying to include her as family, inviting her to family
parties trying to fix her up with their male relatives. It had become harder
and harder to come up with excuses to distance herself without sounding like
the lunatic she was. This had led to laying her carefully conceived exit
strategy – doing a flit while they were on holiday in Hawaii, leaving no
forwarding address just a stash of extra rent money and a woefully inadequate
letter of apology.
Attempting
to mentally shrug it off, she put her boxes down and set about creating her new
home office space. Her business had been increasing steadily over the last two
years and she would have to get straight back to work. She lovingly erected her
workstation, plugged her computer in and set up her phone and fax. Her business
was her baby, the only way she had found to make money that she could cope
with. It offered her minimal interaction with real people, although there were
still far too many customers who preferred the old fashioned telephone to
conducting business by email.
Jen
literally had to force herself to answer a ringing telephone, her anxiety
overwhelmed only by the need to earn a living. Her life was what it was. A
carefully constructed means of coping - for someone struggling with zero social
confidence & panic attacks.
Her office complete, she
opened a bottle of red wine and curled up on her sofa drawing a blanket up
around her, and sipped slowly from her favourite glass. The familiar object
bringing her a little much needed comfort. She had no intention of making up
the bed tonight, the weather was warm enough that she should be cosy on the
sofa, and it wasn’t long before the mellow wine and the exhaustion of the last
few days caught up with her, and despite her ever present unwanted anxiety she
drifted off to sleep knowing that at least for a few hours she was safe.
****
Jen woke
early; with no blinds up yet the sun streaming in roused her and she wearily
sat up and checked her watch. Six am she should be safe enough to go down for
the last box from the car, hopefully there wouldn’t be an early riser about. Still
in last night’s clothes she left her apartment as quietly as she could and
slipped downstairs to the parking lot.
Stumbling
back in with her box of stationery she froze as she heard the click of a lock
opening from across the ground floor hall – “Shit,” she put a spurt on and had
made it up several steps when her foot slipped on a patch of worn stair carpet
and she fell awkwardly, banging her head hard enough on the sharp corner of the
box to draw blood.
Temporarily
disorientated, she was powerless to halt her slide back down the stairs feet
first, bumping her breasts painfully on every step as she went – holy hell that
hurt. The wind knocked out of her, she was in no position to evade the person
who came running up to see what all the commotion was.
Lily Baker
swept round the corner, startled by the noise like a small earthquake hitting,
peering down she saw a tiny brunette covered in loose leaf paper, face down on
the floor, moaning. “Todd,” Lily shouted, “Todd – get out here will you,
somebody’s fallen down the stairs.”
Jen came
round enough to understand not just one but two persons were about to come to
her aid, “No – no, I’m fine honestly,” unfortunately just as she said it a wave
of dizziness hit and she trembled a little. Gentle fingers drew her hair back
from her face and a pretty green eyed blonde peered at her - wincing when she
saw the blood.
Jen wanted to
cover her ears when the girl bellowed again, “Todd are you deaf - get out
here.”
Heavy
footsteps signalled the arrival of a pair of very male bare feet and Jen held
her breath, “Hey Lily, what’s happened here?” a deep sexy voice asked.
The girl who
was presumably Lily replied, “Just help me with her I think she should come and
lie down for a bit she’s had a little shock. A jolt of fear shot through Jen
but before she could croak her refusal, she was scooped up as if she was a rag
doll and found her nose squished up against a very broad, warm naked chest.
Wriggling
away as if she’d been electrocuted the grip on her tightened and the chest
rumbled, “Sit still honey you’re ok.”
Short of
making a fuss and not really having the strength to resist, she had to allow
the beast to carry her across to his apartment, the blonde in hot pursuit.
Good God this
guy was so tall the nausea was fast becoming vertigo, she had never been held
in someone’s arms like this and she gritted her teeth to try and stem her
discomfort, breathing out her relief when she was laid gently on a sofa, her
rescuers’ faces peering over her.
“Get a wash cloth Lil
– let’s see how bad this cut is, she might need a doctor.”
“No,”
screeched Jen, causing her to clutch her pounding head with the volume of her own
voice, “I just need a minute; I’m fine I promise, just winded.”
Todd Baker
sat down next to the crumpled figure on his couch. Christ what a start to the
day, a 5ft something scrap of a girl, with hair like Cousin It. You could hardly
even see her face between the bushy dark hair and the blood smears, but she was
slim and fragile looking and the tension in her body language radiated
apprehension in almost tangible waves. It got his curiosity peaked.
Lily came
back with a bowl of warm water and a cloth and he took it from her and gently
cleaned off the new tenant’s face, because that’s surely who she must be. He
brushed her hair away so he could see what he was doing. On closer inspection
she was a little older than he first thought, more like in her mid twenties.
“I don’t
think it’s too bad Lily, it’s pretty shallow. If you have butterfly strips in
your kit I think that should do it, and some aspirin for her head.”
Jen’s eyes cast
a first fearful glimpse up at the man sitting next to her. His head was upturned
towards the girl - showcasing a strong masculine jaw with a couple days worth
of stubble. Thick but silky dark brown hair rumpled over his brow and feathered
softly at his neck. God he was very good looking and scary, and very, very
male.
Don’t have
green eyes; don’t have green eyes she chanted silently, you’ll be too gorgeous to
completely ignore if you have green eyes. Crap, he turned back to her and gave
her a smile that twinkled all the way to his grass green irises, not even a
hint of murky brown. Shit, now he was going to be in her thoughts way too much.
Lily shooed
him off, “Who’s the nurse here bro? I’ve got this Todd – you need to get
showered, you’re probably knocking her unconscious with your sweaty morning body.”
“Nothing
wrong with a bit of manly sweat,” he said, feigning indignation while sniffing
his armpit. “And you’re only a first year student - because you messed about deciding
what to do for so long, plus I’ve had and seen more cuts and bruises than
you’ve had baked potatoes.”
Looking back
at the girl on his couch he realised they had not been introduced. “My name is
Todd Baker and this is my sister Lily, who I am crazy enough to grant a bed in
my apartment, and I guess you are?”
For a second Jen
wondered whether to feign a relapse to avoid talking to him, but realised she
would be just prolonging her discomfort at the situation. “I’m Jennifer Harris,
I just moved in upstairs, and thank you for your help, but I really do need to
get back to my apartment.”
Lily tutted
at her,” just stay a bit longer while I fix you up, I just want to make sure
you don’t pass out on us, head injuries can be tricky. Todd please get my first
aid kit then scram – I’ve got this.”
Todd gave the
girl another long look. Jennifer, was she a Jen or a Jenny..., she was a
prickly one, she probably insisted on Jennifer. Now he could see her face
better he registered the pale fine skin on a small perfectly oval face. She had
nice well defined features but the best thing was her eyes, dark navy blue
framed by thick dark brows and the longest blackest eyelashes he’d ever seen. They
elevated her face to something special.
“Todd -
staring much?”
“Sorry I’m
going, I’m going.”
He came back
with the first aid kit, briefly looked at Jen again and headed to the shower. Lily
looked at Jen too and busily set about dressing the scratch. “I’m glad there’s
another girl in the building, it was just me before. I’ve just moved here to
stay with Todd while I do my BSN degree at the School of Nursing.”
Oh Christ
this was not going well, she did not want a cosy chat. How did she get out of
here without causing a scene?
Lily put the
finishing touches to the dressing. Her patient was attempting to look anywhere
but at her, and something about that made Lily feel concerned. Jen looked old
enough to be somewhere between the ages of herself and Todd, but she seemed
younger.