Headstrong (28 page)

He dropped her hair and took her by the shoulders, giving her a little side-to-side wobble of encouragement. What he said then was “You look gorgeous. Knock him dead.” What it felt as if he said was “Here’s a rusty knife. Why not go ahead and gouge my heart out?”

Libby bit back another bashful smile and looked down. “Thanks.”

“He’s due in soon. I’m going to head down and bother Annie.”

“Cool. I think I’ll just stay up here, see what’s on the tube.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see you later, or tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, for our big date,” she said cockily, turning back into her usual self.

“You got it. Anyhow. Be good.”

“I always am.”

Colin gave her a final glance. He knew any empathetic happiness he was forcing himself to feel would die an unceremonious death the second his brother walked through the pub’s front door. He knew he’d felt some terrible things in the last few years, far worse things than this, but at the moment, it was hard to imagine it.

Libby’s heart had been pounding against her ribs the entire twenty minutes since Colin had left her alone in the living room. Every car door that slammed out on the street belonged to the Laser, in her mind. Every nondescript spike in the voices murmuring downstairs in the pub was surely the sound of Reece being greeted by his brother and sister. When the footsteps finally came, she clenched the TV remote so tightly the volume began to race up. She switched it off hastily.

Reece seemed unsurprised to find her as he stepped inside the flat. He gave her a brief smile of acknowledgement, tossing his gym bag by the wall and kicking his shoes off before giving her a good looking-over.

“Gidday, Lib—” He started. “Oh, crikey. You look nice tonight.”

“Hey. And thanks.” She stood, picking up her empty wine glass as an excuse to appear busy and nonchalant. “How were your classes?”

“Not bad. How’ve
you
been? This must be the longest we’ve gone without seeing you here.”

“Yeah, I had some work to do.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” Reece said, sounding genuine and lifting her spirits. “We’re overdue for a photo shoot. Colin told me you’re seeing your dad tomorrow.”

She nodded, mood dipping.

“He called me yesterday. Your dad, I mean. We’re meeting the day after next, to check in. I don’t want to turn up empty-handed.”

“I can spare a morning.”

“Good… You, um, recovered from your festivities the other night?” he asked with a teasing smile. “Colin said you really tied one on.”

“God, don’t remind me.” She faked a casual, self-effacing laugh.

Reece looked shifty. “Well, just…be careful in the future.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m never drinking that much ever again. God knows what an ass I must have made of myself.”

Unlike his brother, Reece did not attempt to correct her on this point.

She cleared her throat. “So…”

Reece went to hang his coat up. “Yeah?”

“What are you up to tonight? You feel like hanging out?”

He glanced at his phone’s screen. “For a bit, maybe. I’m going to ring in a pizza, if you’re hungry. I figured you must be going out, looking like that.”

“Nah, just playing dress up.”

He nodded, walking back over. “Well, sure then, I’ll hang out. Although I look like a bit of a slouch now. Didn’t realize there was a dress code—”

He was silenced as Libby’s mouth collided with his. It was their least orchestrated kiss to date, lacking in grace and chemistry.

“Well,” Reece said after they found their rhythm a bit. “
That
sort of hanging out, then?”

Libby wiped the lipstick off the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, that’s what I’d hoped. I know the last time was strange, when I ran off. I was having a weird day. I’m cool now.”

He looked pensive, but nodded. “Sure.”

His hand swept out as an invitation, and Libby preceded him to his room. He closed the door behind them. She’d been hoping to stir enough desire in him that they’d wind up tangled together on the couch or the floor, too frantic to go in search of privacy. That’s how she’d
pictured
it going. This evening was supposed to be different, transformed by a passion that superseded Reece’s usual teacher-student shtick and left him anything
but
the picture of self-control and courteousness.
Curses.

Libby sat on the bed, awaiting her ravaging.

“So,” Reece said evenly. “What’s the lesson this evening?”

“Not a
lesson
. I just want to mess around with you.”

“Right. Want some wine?”

“Nope, just you.”

He smiled, looking flattered but hesitant. “You’re getting me at my most stinky tonight. That okay?”

“Yeah, I like your smell.”

Her eyes took him in, so frigging good-looking, even more exciting after a few days’ separation. She hoped her desperation wasn’t as plain as it felt.

Reece pulled his socks off, and she let her shoes drop to the floor beside them. They reclined together on the bed. He kissed her, starting slow as usual, the tension building until Libby could feel desire eclipse her nerves. Reece’s mouth was hot on her throat, and she ran her hand down his body, cupping him. She felt him growing beneath the fabric of his track pants as she rubbed, listened to the sounds of his enjoyment as his breath warmed her skin. His palm left her hip to slip under her skirt and return the caress. She slid her hands inside his underwear and stroked him, thrilling at the sound of his surprise.

“What do you want?” he asked, only half-composed.
Excellent.

She stroked him harder. “Lots of things.”

Reece groaned with shock and pleasure. “Like what?”

“Actually…” She gripped him tightly, hoping he might do her wildest bidding if she distracted him enough. “I’d like to…do it. With you.”

His hand paused between her thighs. “Wait, you mean actual intercourse?”

She laughed. “God, you’re so technical. But yeah. What do you think?”

“No. Sorry, but no way.” Reece took his hand back and smoothed her skirt down her legs.

“I can’t see why it’s such a big deal—”

She was cut off as Reece interrupted to extract himself from her hold. Stark fear oozed into her veins, diluting the thrill that had been there. “Why not?”

He laid his palm on her side, as if trying to distance their bodies. “I can’t be your…your first time since…”

“Pardon me?”

“You know. That would be like…losing your virginity again, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not a starfish, Reece. It’s doesn’t
grow back
.”

“Well, this should be like your second chance. To make it decent. Shouldn’t it?”

“And it
would
be decent,” she said, rubbing his shoulder.

“It just seems like a big decision.”

Her temper frayed. “I’m not an innocent or a rape victim. You can stop handling me like I’m going to shatter or something.”

“I’m just saying—”

“You do it to your brother too, you know. It’s really annoying. I know what I want.” She quickly dialed back how combative she’d become. “And this
would
be my chance to make it decent. Maybe better than decent.”

“Didn’t the last time… You were with someone who didn’t really care about you, and it fucked you up?”

“Yeah, way up. When I was
sixteen
. Now I’m twenty-eight. And I know you don’t care about me—”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Well, I know you don’t…love me or whatever. So I’m not harboring any illusions about this. There won’t be any rude awakenings.” She faltered. “I mean, maybe we could just try oral or something…?” Even Libby caught the pathetic pleading in her voice.

Reece shook his head. “No, sorry. That’s just as intimate as sex. Maybe more.”

She sighed, trying her best to appear cavalier.

“Libby, I need to talk to you about something. About us. About all this.”

Her insides clenched with anticipation, with that intuition she was so hopeless at interpreting. “Shoot, lover.”

“I think this has to be the last time we mess around. I feel too weird about it, with us not being a couple. I think it has to stop.”

Libby’s stomach lurched and she took a fortifying breath. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, as well.”

“Good.”

“About us not being a couple. Is that… Do you want that to change?” she asked cautiously.

“I want
us
to change. I can’t do this anymore. With us not caring for each other.”

“I sort of feel the same way.”
Tell him. Tell him now.

“I like someone, Libby. Someone I’d like to ask out.”

“Oh.” She frowned, paralyzed with both horror and the tiniest, most sadistic glimmer of hope. A hope she’d promised herself she was completely over before this moment. “This isn’t one of those deals where now you’re going to confess that it’s me, is it?” she asked, realizing how idiotic it sounded as the words came out.

Reece smiled awkwardly. “No, don’t worry. I’m not going to drop one of those on you. No, I just fancy a girl and I think I want to ask her out. So I have to stop fooling around with you.”

“Oh.” Libby fought every sensation crashing through her body—the feeling of her heart simultaneously stopping and racing, of the breath being sucked from her lungs, the numbness freezing her fingers and face and toes.

“Well, that’s great,” she said. “For you. That’s great.”

“Thanks.”

“Who is she?”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“A woman from my studio. Named Julia.”

Oh Christ, don’t tell me her fucking name.
“That’s really cool. What’s…what’s she like?”
God, you fucking masochist.

“Sweet. She’s really sweet.”

Like a punch in the gut, that word. Any adjective but that one. The antithesis of everything Libby could ever be.

“That’s great.” It was like one of those stories about a marathon runner or gymnast performing on a broken bone; the astounding ability to keep functioning in the face of incapacitating pain. “Good luck,” Libby said.

“Ta.”

“You know…” She trailed off, lost.

“This is weird now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Let’s just…let’s stop.” Libby stood, needing to run from the room but forcing herself to appear casual.

Reece nodded. “All right. I better grab a shower anyway.”

“Yes, do that.”

“Okay. Sorry, Libby. To spoil your fun.”

“Ha.” It was perhaps the worst imitation of a lighthearted laugh ever uttered. “Don’t flatter yourself, loverboy.”

Libby closed his bedroom door behind her.

“Let’s get sandwiches,” Annie said to Colin with finality, a pile of rejected takeout menus spread before her on the bar. “Where’s the number?”

“I think that menu’s up in the kitchen. Just pick one of these,” Colin said, pushing the fliers toward her. No bloody way he was going upstairs right now.

“No, I want a chicken sandwich. From the good place, with the good mustard.”

“Let’s just get Chinese.”

She poked his arm. “No. Bloody. Chance. You aren’t even working, you lazy piker. Those legs can handle a few stairs. Be a good boy and toddle up those steps and get your favorite sister the number.”

“Only sister,” Colin corrected as he’d done for the past twenty years. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll go pick it up. It’ll be faster. And cheaper. My treat.”

“Yeah, in the rain, on your bike? Fat chance, Death Wish. Go get the bloody menu. I’m hungry.”

Annie reveled in bossing her younger brothers around, but Colin didn’t have the patience for it this evening. “I’ll call the directory.”

“Colin.” Annie stared at him until he met her eyes. “They’re not going to be rutting on the blooming couch. Stop being such a coward and go up there.”

He swallowed. “That obvious?”

“I know you better than anyone,” Annie said, which was probably true. “Although it’s been getting harder to recognize you, lately. What is
up
with you?”

“Wish I knew.”

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen you this torn up.”

Colin set his elbows on the bar and buried his face in his hands, trying to rub the sense back into his head. He mumbled through his fingers. “I feel like I’m going bloody mad.”

“Libby’s nice, Col, but she’s just a girl.”

“Wish I could say I agreed with you.”

“Ah.” Annie paused to fill a drink order. “That bad, eh? Does she know how you feel?”

“Oh, she knows.” He remembered with a flinch what had happened after he’d brought her back from karaoke. “She knows I’m infatuated with her, at any rate. I didn’t leave much room for doubt. I’m lucky she’s still talking to me.”

“Maybe you need to go out and find someone else. Someone who doesn’t belong to your
brother
, maybe? Or whatever it is they are. There’s probably a queue of scruffy rocker girls in ripped leggings outside, dying for the chance, Col.”

He laughed, exasperated. “Don’t think I haven’t tried.” He looked around the bar, as if he might find answers in the faces of the drinkers. “You want to hear something utterly pathetic?”

“I’m your bartender right now. That’s my job.”

“Well, last weekend I went out to a show, just to try and get out of my head for a little bit? And do you remember Jessie, that girl I was hanging out with around when Dad was getting really bad, like six months ago? Long black hair? Works at a baker’s?”

Annie nodded.

“So, I’m at this show, right, and it’s bloody miserable, not helping at all. So I decide out of the blue that I’m going to ride over to Eastbourne at bloody midnight and see her. And I do, and it’s so psycho. It’s late, and I turn up probably reeking of other people’s smoke and God knows what else and I’m babbling like a mentaller, and she takes me in.”

“Okay…”

“So, beautiful, right? She’s up for it, we both know the score, I already know we’re dynamite together in the kip, and I am
this close
—” Colin paused, fingers pinched together to illustrate his point, waiting as Annie poured a pair of beers.

“I am this close,” he continued. “And…” He gestured spastically, mouth agape to illustrate his disbelief.

“And?” Annie prompted.

“And nothing. I fucking flipped out. Something in my brain broke and it was like, trousers-back-on in a flash, apologizing profusely as I practically ran out the bloody door.”