Anticipation (7 page)

She made a pile of pillows against the wall and settled into them. It wasn’t until she’d turned the second page of her book that she realized she was holding her breath, her shoulders tight with tension as she tried and failed to ignore what was going on in the other room.

She heard the low rumble of Eddie’s voice, followed by the thud of the refrigerator closing. Leanne’s laugh sounded too loud, even from a distance. Blue wondered where he’d met her, how many times he’d slept with her.

Whether he was going to have sex with her again tonight.

Blue heard them moving around, then the sound of music. Eddie creating a bit of ambience, no doubt. Not that he needed to do much by way of seduction if Leanne’s decision to arrive sans underwear meant anything.

Leanne’s laugh sounded again, followed by Eddie’s.

They were probably on the couch, eating the
brigadeiros
he’d made for Blue.

He’s going to fuck her. You know he is.

He was. He was going to lift her short little skirt and spread her thighs wide. He was going to lick and suck and bite her breasts. He was going to slide inside her and pump into her until she called his name. He was going to find his own pleasure inside her.

He was going to do all the things to her that he did to the women he took to his bed, the things that had given him a reputation for being an exceptional lover. The things that meant there was never a lack of women with no underwear in his life.

Bile burned at the back of Blue’s throat and she swallowed convulsively, desperately trying to ignore the sourness in her belly.

She couldn’t. Her jealousy was too overpowering, too encompassing, too pure and hot and gut-wrenching.

The thought of him touching Leanne…

Of him being inside her…

Blue rolled to the edge of the bed and struggled to her feet. She didn’t bother with the crutches, hopping with desperate lurches into the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before dinner burned its way up her throat.

Her eyes were streaming afterward, her mouth acrid. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she struggled to rise and shuffled across to the basin, carefully keeping her weight off her bad leg. Her arms and good leg were shaking from the effort - or maybe that was more to do with the aftermath of the emotion that had turned her stomach.

She washed her mouth out four times, then brushed her teeth for good measure. Then she sank onto the rim of the bathtub.

She could still hear the music in here, but no voices or laughter. Maybe they’d already gone to Eddie’s bedroom. Or perhaps they were too busy going for it on the couch.

Anything was possible.

Not two hours ago, she’d cried tears of relief that things were back to normal with Eddie, and now here she was, literally sick with jealousy over what he may or may not be doing with his blonde de jour.

This wasn’t going to work. They weren’t okay. At least, she wasn’t. Something had shifted inside her, and she needed to work out what it was and how to fix it.

If she could.

In the meantime, she needed to not be around Eddie for as long as it took for her to get her head straight.

Body still trembling with residual reaction, she struggled back into the bedroom and reached for her phone.

Chapter Five

The next morning Eddie woke to the sound of the front gate opening. He’d been meaning to oil the hinges for weeks now, and his punishment for being a lazy bastard was being woken at the crack of dawn by an unwelcome visitor.

Another one. Apparently he was collecting them these days. Leanne last night, and now whoever was about to ring his doorbell.

Right on cue, electronic chimes echoed.

Sighing heavily, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and reached for the pair of jeans he’d worn yesterday. He needed to get to the door before the inconsiderate idiot riding the bell woke Blue up.

He had his hand on the doorknob to his room when he heard the distinct thud of Blue’s crutches pass by outside.

She was up already? And moving around?

He exited his bedroom in time to see her open the front door, revealing a taxi driver in the neat, pale blue uniform shirt mandated by Victorian law.

“I’ll need help with my bags,” she said quietly.

So as not to wake him, Eddie imagined.

“What’s going on?”

She swiveled on one crutch, her face pale beneath the deep blue of her hair. “You’re up.”

“What’s going on, Blue?”

“I won’t be a moment,” she told the driver. “Start the meter if you have to.”

There was a familiar defiant tilt to her chin as she turned to face him and he knew before she opened her mouth what she was going to say.

“You’re not going to your place,” he said. “Don’t even think about it. You’re not up to being on your own yet.”

He was prepared to take her crutches away and confiscate her luggage if he had to. Whatever it took to protect her from her own idiocy.

“Lena called last night. She flew in two days ago, and she’s heading down to her folks’ place at the beach. She’s offered to look after me.”

He stared at her, trying to work out if she was snowing him or not. Lena was Rafel’s ex, and she and Blue had remained in contact despite the fact that it had been nearly two years since Rafel and Lena had parted ways. The last time Eddie had exchanged emails with her, Lena was firmly ensconced in New York, having retreated there after failing to win Raf back eighteen months ago.

“Call her if you don’t believe me,” Blue said, pulling her phone from her back pocket and offering it to him.

The driver was hovering in the doorway, having taken it upon himself to play witness to their altercation.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like the view from your room?” he asked before he could stop himself. Even he could hear the hurt in his voice.

Screw it, he
was
hurt. He wanted to look after her.

“We’ll drive each other nuts,” Blue said. “I’m saving us from the fight of the century. You should be thanking me.”

He shook his head, really perplexed now. They’d had a great time yesterday and last night. Right up until Leanne’s arrival.

“Is this because of Leanne?” he asked.

Blue shrugged. “In a way. You’ve got your life, I’ve got mine. I don’t want to get in the way of anything.”

“You’re the one who bailed last night. I would have been more than happy for you to hang around.”

Blue turned to the driver. “My bags are just through there.” She gestured with her chin.

“I’ll get them,” Eddie said.

There wasn’t much point arguing with her when she’d already organized her escape plan. He found her bags on her bed, along with a folded piece of paper with his name written on it. He flipped it open and read it quickly:

Thanks for your awesome hospitality, but Lena’s offering beach views with my rehab, so I’m going to head down to her folks’ beach place and hang with her for a while. Might as well enjoy being messed up, right?

Dinner was great last night. Pity you won’t take me up on that offer to be my personal chef.

Blue

He slid the note into the front pocket of his jeans and hefted her overnight bag and backpack. He glanced around. She’d left the room as she’d found it, tidy and neat, the blanket folded across the foot of the bed.

As though she’d never been there.

She was standing beside the taxi when he exited the house with her bags. He didn’t take his eyes off her as he walked down the path and through the gate, but for the first time in a long time she couldn’t hold his gaze.

He dropped her bags into the open trunk, shutting the lid with more force than was strictly necessary.

“Thanks,” she said, still not looking him in the eye.

He waited until she was settled in the rear seat of the cab before bracing his hands on the roof and leaning in so he could talk to her with a semblance of privacy.

“You want to tell me what’s really going on?” he asked. Because he wasn’t buying the I-want-beach-views bullshit. Not for a second.

She licked her lips nervously, something he’d never seen her do before. Then she looked at him.

“It’s nothing for you to worry your pretty head about. That’s all you need to know.” There were shadows behind her eyes, and a muscle flickered in her jaw as though she was working hard to control herself.

This was serious, he realized. Something heavy was dragging her down — and she was running away from him.

“This is crazy, Blue. Come inside and talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Just let it go.”

Everything in him wanted to keep at her, but there was something incredibly final about the tone of her voice and the angle of her chin.

She wanted to leave, and nothing he said or did was going to stop her.

“Okay. Enjoy yourself. Get well.” He had no idea if his words sounded sincere. In his heart, he meant them, but he was also angry with her right now. He felt…discarded. Disrespected. Devalued.

He stepped back and pushed the door closed. The driver was already behind the wheel, face forward as he pretended he wasn’t eavesdropping on their every word. Eddie signaled he should go as Blue wound down her window.

“I left you a note.”

“I saw it.”

Her gaze was sad but determined. “I’m sorry, but it would never have worked out, us living in each other’s pockets.”

Eddie watched as the taxi drove her away, then turned toward the house. Her words echoed in his ears as he pushed through the gate.

It’s nothing for you to worry your pretty head about. That’s all you need to know.

Right, like he could turn off his feelings for her, erase his concern because she’d told him to. Didn’t she realize how much she meant to him? How much he cared? He’d put his whole world on hold for her this past week. He’d bent over backward to make sure she was comfortable and safe and well looked after. He’d even made freaking
brigadeiros
for her last night.

That’s right — then you let Leanne eat them instead of Blue.

He came to a screeching halt on his porch as the realization hit him, closely followed by another humdinger: he and Blue had been arguing about the issue of him putting his women above their friendship the night of the accident, too.

And yet he’d done it again, almost the very first chance he’d got.

To answer to your question: no, she probably has no idea how much she means to you, since you put your cock first pretty much every time.

He bowed his head, shame sending heat rushing into his face as he acknowledged his own shitty behavior.

Why on earth would she think she could rely on him when he’d taught her over and over that he was unreliable, especially if there was a hot chick in the room? Was it any wonder she’d chosen to turn to Lena in her hour of need instead of him?

He had a sudden urge to punch something, like some clichéd moron in a B-movie.

He should have sent Leanne away when she’d shown up last night. He had no idea why he hadn’t. Habit, maybe. Reluctance to deal with her hurt feelings, perhaps. He certainly hadn’t been interested in what she was offering — far from it. And yet he’d still let her stay while Blue retreated to her room like a second-class citizen.

God, he was such a douche bag.

Hard on the heels of the thought came a surge of determination. His head came up.

He might have fucked up last night — okay, and plenty of other times previously — but he could fix this. From now on, things were going to be different with Blue. He was going to
show
her how much her friendship meant to him. He was going to make sure she understood the special place she held in his heart. Never again would she have reason to doubt her importance in his life.

The urge to go after her and fix this
now
was almost undeniable, but he had enough self-knowledge to understand that impulse was about making himself feel better, not about helping Blue. The last thing she needed was him getting up in her face, insisting she let him help her, when she was dealing with stuff of her own.

No, he would have to wait until she was prepared to let him in again — and when she did, he would have his chance to be the friend she deserved.

In the meantime, his punishment would be to wait in ignorant silence and think about what a thoughtless dick he’d been.

Blue stared out the window of the taxi, her teeth gritted so hard her jaw ached.

She was screwing everything up. Making it complicated where before it had been simple and easy and good. Worse, she’d hurt Eddie’s feelings. He hadn’t said anything, but it had been there in the line of his shoulders and the angle of his head and the set of his mouth.

Some people — idiots — wrote him off as a too-good-looking playboy who was about as deep as a wading pool. They imagined that the surface Eddie — the player, the partier, the hedonist — was all there was. She knew differently. She knew how loyal he was. How hard working. She knew how much he cared for his family. He would take a bullet for Rafel, no questions asked. And she knew how deeply the loss of his sister had hit him when he was a kid. He’d been just seven years old when Yara had died from meningitis and his grief-stricken father had wrenched them from their home in Brazil and immigrated to Australia. Eddie’s back bore the proof of his abiding grief and love for his lost sibling — the word
soror
, Latin for sister, etched in five-inch, black letters across his shoulders. The same tattoo that Rafel had on his belly.