One Small Mistake(65)

When I raise my gaze to his, our faces are so close, I can stare straight into the depths of those Icelandic blue eyes. When the lightning hits, they glimmer like chips of ice. I lean into him, tilting my mouth up to his.

Then he pulls back, gets to his feet and holds out his hand.

Disappointment swirls. ‘What are we doing?’

His smile tells me we are doing something wild and reckless and when I hesitate, he invokes those magic words, ‘How far will you go?’ Downstairs, he flings open the front door.

I dig my heels in. ‘What if someone sees me?’

‘No one else would be mad enough to go out in this.’

So I follow him into the storm. The rain is icy. Just for a second, I can’t breathe through the shock of it. Then we are running barefoot down the path to the little beach, just as we did when we were children. The sand is wet and slides between my toes. The sea rages. The sky sounds like it’s being cracked into pieces. We stop at the foaming sea line. The silk pyjamas cling wetly to my body.

Jack’s soaked hair has turned the same colour as the sodden sand beneath our feet. He is all beautiful angles and a wide, white smile. Lifting my hand above my head, he twirls me; I laugh at the absurdity of being out in the pouring rain. He spins me out and pulls me back, one hand on my waist, as though we are dancing to smooth Frank Sinatra, but the growling sky and howling winds are our melody. Electric gold strikes the horizon, and I’m trying to decide exactly what the rain pirouetting in the flash of light looks like. Not glitter, exactly. But close. It falls between us.

Jack pulls me closer.

We aren’t laughing anymore. His body is so warm. I arch into him. There’s a crackling, singing tension between us and I’m caught between excitement and terror, not knowing what’s about to happen.

I want Jack’s hands on me. Want to feel the weight of him pressing me into the sand. Want to feel him sliding between my thighs.

Then he kisses me.

It is not the awkward kisses of my teen years, where we clink teeth, and he uses too much tongue. Jack’s kiss is expertly executed, and I am a live wire in water, sparking and thrumming beneath his hands as they move along my back and around to my front. He groans into my mouth, tasting like hot chocolate and sex, and I want him. I want him. I want him.

We stumble back up the path, lips still locked. Hands still exploring. My foot slides on a wet rock and I stumble. He catches me, lifting me easily into his arms, carrying me over the threshold of Wisteria. In the hallway, he sets me on my feet. Then his hands are in my hair, his lips on my throat, nibbling the delicate place between neck and shoulder.

It’s only when we are outside one of the bedrooms that the fog of lust breaks and I have a moment of pause and my brain screams, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ But that voice isn’t mine. It’s Jeffrey. I pull away from Jack, stumbling out of reach.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I can’t do this.’

‘Elodie,’ he pleads. ‘Don’t say that.’

But I do. ‘Jack … we’re friends. We’ve always been friends. You’re like a brother to me and—’

‘Stop!’ he explodes, throwing his hands wide. ‘Fuck that. You are more. So much more.’ He eats up the space between us and takes my face between his hands again. ‘You’re all I want.’

‘Do you say that to all your bed buddies?’

‘Is that what you think? One fuck and I’m done?’

‘Classic Jack Westwood.’

‘Not with you.’ He presses his forehead to mine. ‘You and me, this is right.’

I still want him. Desire makes my body thrum. But if we do this, there’s no going back. ‘What if it goes wrong?’

‘Impossible. Nothing you ever do will make me feel this isn’t meant to be. I know everything about you.’

‘Everything?’ I smile up at him from beneath my lashes. ‘I could be a woman of many mysteries.’

‘I know you.’ He punctuates each word carefully. ‘I know you have to tie your hair up before you write. I know you can’t sleep if the duvet buttons are topside. I know you can never sing in key, but you always smile and curtsey like you’ve just graced the Royal Opera House.’ His thumbs are drawing circles on my cheeks. ‘I know all of you, and I’m all in, Elodie. All in.’

So many of my friends bitch that their fiancés wouldn’t even notice if they shaved their heads and here is Jack, noticing the tiny details of my life. I am so giddy, I could float away, but there’s still a concrete block of concern weighing me down. I bite my lip.

‘What?’

‘I haven’t been with anyone since Noah,’ I blurt. ‘It feels too soon.’

His hands drop, but he stays close. ‘You’re going to stop living your life because he can’t live his? Is that the girl you want to be tonight? Afraid? Safe? You want this. I know you want this.’

I raise an eyebrow. ‘Something that burns, something consuming and unpredictable, and maybe a little dangerous?’

‘Something people spend their whole lives searching for.’

And I could let myself slip-slide into his promises but what happens if it goes wrong? With Noah gone, Jack’s the only person who has ever truly loved me. I can’t lose that. I just can’t. ‘Jack …’