Chapter 22
Warren’s feet pounded the pavement at a slower pace than usual. He’d overdone it with work on the house again, especially after the weekend spent tending to the Highland fires, and he intended to flop into his van to nap the afternoon away.
Pushing past the knots in his muscles to jog around the loch was the only way he could trick his body into falling asleep.
Sweat trickled down his back and music pounded through his headphones as he tried to focus on the road ahead rather than the awful car accident he’d tended to in the wee hours of the morning, or his next move in the construction process, or how long was appropriate to wait before he could text Eiley again.
As it turned out, he needn’t worry about that last one.
He stopped, confused, when her figure emerged between two tall redwoods on the loch’s footpath.
What was she doing all the way out here, alone?
Was he so tired that his brain was playing tricks on him now? Providing the images he longed to see?
He slipped his headphones down and paused the upbeat Vance Joy song shuffled on his running playlist.
“Eiley!” he called, avoiding the raised tree roots to meet her on the trail.
His stomach swooped, her effect on his body tugging ever stronger since the weekend.
Even a message from her set him off these days, especially the one he hadn’t been expecting, asking how he’d gotten on with the wildfire.
The last time he’d felt so smitten was …
Well, never. That was the bloody problem. He’d been waiting for a connection that would ravage him, rewrite his body, and he’d got one. For the wrong person. A person who couldn’t commit to anything serious.
Startling, Eiley locked her arms around her torso. Her eyes were cloudy and bloodshot. She’d been crying, and the urge to fix it cut through him like glass.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing happened. I’m fine. What are you even doing here?” She shrugged his hand off her shoulder, letting it fall pathetically to his side. “You’re just … everywhere .”
Great. They were back to treating each other like strangers, like their moment in the woods had never happened.
He wasn’t in the mood for this today. Not even close. “I was on a run. I didn’t realise I needed your permission for that.”
Eiley’s tongue swiped between the seam of her lips as she looked at him – properly, as though that instinct to hate him had receded all at once. Thank fuck, because he wasn’t sure he could deal with it again.
“My van broke down after I dodged a deer,” she admitted.
“Did you crash? Are you hurt?” His hands hovered with the urgent need to check, but were quickly batted away.
“No, I’m fine.”
“And where is it now?” He wiped the sweat from his brow, hoping he didn’t smell as gross as he felt as he put his hands on his hips, though it was likely.
His T-shirt clung to his abs, hair brushed messily off his head in all directions.
He’d gone straight to the house this morning to chat with the construction workers and ended up sawing wood for the roof’s framework.
“I don’t know. It ran towards the loch. It’s probably long gone.”
He frowned, hiding his amusement. Did she truly think he was more concerned about the unharmed deer than her? “I mean the van, Eiley.”
“Oh … Half a mile back?” she questioned, as though he was the one who was supposed to know. “That’s a lie. I have no concept of distance.”
“Bloody hell. What are you doing wandering out here? You could have got lost! Why didn’t you call m—” He corrected himself quickly with, “ Someone ?”
“My phone was dead.”
“Of fucking course.” He wanted to shake her until she saw sense, or maybe just kiss her until she didn’t see anything.
He couldn’t be sure, but he was annoyed either way, flashes of last night’s car wreckage and the barely adult lad within tormenting him.
“Do you realise how ludicrous it is to come out here without a way of contacting anyone? I’m beginning to think that you want to get yourself into trouble! ”
The wrong thing to say, clearly, because that fiery glower returned all at once. “I’ve lived here my whole bloody life, so don’t even start! I’m capable of walking back to town on my own.”
“It doesn’t matter what you’re capable of. Cars race down these country roads without thought!”
“Warren—”
“And before you argue, do you know how many people have gone for a hike out here and turned up in bloody Aberdeen?”
“Considering it’s on the other side of the country, I’m going to hazard a guess and say none,” she shot out.
“At least one!” he retorted, and might have been lying.
That wasn’t the point. The point was that she was a woman on her own, without a back-up or, from what he could tell, much knack for navigation.
He’d learned the hard way that accidents happened, and not just near-misses like she’d had with the deer.
Hikers did disappear, and were sometimes found in worse places than Aberdeen.
He’d rescued a few on Macaskill Ridge himself, locals and tourists alike.
If she would just stop being so bloody stoic and asked for help when she needed it, it would make everyone’s life easier, her own included.
“What if you had been in an accident, or twisted your ankle halfway around the loch? Who would be able to help you when you’re out here? ”
Eiley massaged her temples. “I’m not doing this today.”
She brushed past him, but he wasn’t going to let this go. He grabbed her wrist, turning her back around. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re too reckless for your own good. I’ll take you home myself.”
“No, you won’t!” She yanked her arm away. “Just stop!”
“Stop what? Stop caring about you?”
“Stop waiting for me to screw up. Stop lecturing me. Stop treating me like I’m not capable of taking care of myself!”
“Then start acting like you are!” Warren tugged at his hair, furious that she couldn’t just see, for once, that he was trying to help her. That she was the one in the wrong, the one who took risks that could end badly. Fucking hell, hadn’t she ever watched a true crime documentary? Or the news?
“God. God, you are so …” Eiley searched for the word, her face crumpled with something venomous.
“So what?” Warren demanded. “Go on. Tell me what I am, Eiley. You can call me an arsehole again, tell your family that I’m the problem, let them go on hating me because, for some fucking reason, I’m the villain in your story. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
He had no idea where any of this was coming from, but it spewed out of him, an unending torrent of frustration that had been building for weeks – because of her.
Because he’d thought they were on the right track, thought they could actually be something , and she’d decided to take that away again.
And, maybe, because he’d watched someone die today.
“And yet you’ll let me touch you, won’t you? Hmm?” he continued, stepping closer. “You didn’t hate me very much when my hand was between your thighs. I’m beginning to think you just like messing me around. Maybe I’m lecturing you because I have no fucking clue where I stand with you.”
“Fine!” Eiley shouted, arms flapping behind her.
“ I’m the mess. I’m the one stringing you along because I have no idea what I’m doing.
Is that what you want to hear? Does it make you happy to know that I can’t seem to do anything for myself?
Do you enjoy seeing me fail so you can tell me how terrible I am, Warren? ”
“Of course I don’t enjoy it. Jesus, Eiley.” He hissed out his impatience, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d already forgotten what they were fighting about. He couldn’t remember ever shouting like this with someone before. Didn’t like it, and yet it just kept happening.
Her chin wobbled suddenly, and she turned away to wipe her tears. “I’m sorry. I’m just … I’m so angry.”
“Aye, I know. I got that already.” His words were bitter, defeated. He couldn’t keep doing this with her. Couldn’t keep feeling terrible for wanting her safe. Couldn’t—
“I don’t mean angry at you!” she exclaimed.
He faltered, rubbing at his sternum when a new pain bloomed there. Not for himself, but for her. Suddenly, she was on the curb outside the bookstore again, a window separating them, and he could see all of the places where she hurt even if he didn’t know why.
Only this time, she knew he was watching. She was showing it to him anyway. And, fuck, there was so much of it.
“Then who?” His voice was quiet now.
She shook her head and toed the dirt.
“You can talk to me. I want you to talk to me instead of … whatever this is. Who are you angry at?”
“Myself,” she confessed. “Everyone. Everything. Nothing ever turns out right. Ever. And I’m so tired of it.
Getting into that van terrified me, but I did it because I wanted to prove to myself I could.
And it broke down anyway.” She laughed mirthlessly.
“And then you’re here to see it happen, because you’re always here to see the bad things happen.
I’m just this walking failure. A magnet for disasters. ”
Warren didn’t know what to say, this time.
He knew what it felt like when the world crumbled around you, over and over again.
Sometimes, his job made him feel more helpless than helpful.
He could do all the right things, work to save a civilian until he was blue in the face, but it wasn’t always enough.
Buildings still collapsed, smoke still suffocated, wounds still bled out, hearts still stopped.
This morning, it had been the latter. He’d held a lad’s hand and watched the life leave him, and even though he’d prepared himself for days like this, it still felt like his fault.
There was only one thing that ever helped.
Quietly, he asked: “Can I take you somewhere?”
“Where?”
“Somewhere that might make you feel better.”
Eiley hesitated for a long moment. Long enough to make him ache, because he wanted her to know she was safe with him, even if they had just been arguing. He didn’t understand how one person could bring out so many paradoxes in him: she made him gentle and rough, calm and stormy, kind and cruel.
They clearly weren’t supposed to be together, and yet they were here, being .
She lifted her face and nodded, defences lowered, anger dissipated.
That was why Warren couldn’t walk away. Why he couldn’t give up. When she surrendered, he became weightless.
He became, somehow, hers.