Chapter Sixteen
Lydia
The silence was killing me. The sun was setting as we drove back to the campsite and Ren hadn’t uttered a word. I turned up the radio, but the inane chatter didn’t help. The rain pelted across the windscreen. I glanced at Ren and found his face neutral, his jaw locked.
‘This rain is horrendous,’ I said, my eyes flicking to Ren. ‘God, I hope it isn’t like this all night.’
A hum.
I turned down the narrow country road, gravel cracking under the tyres. I pushed on the full beam, as the light was slowly being drained from the sky.
‘I hope Mandy isn’t worried. I said we’d be back by now.’
‘I’ve texted her,’ he said, his voice low. ‘Don’t worry.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’
The rain came down harder. The people-pleaser inside was banging at my chest, begging to be let out.
I needed to ask what was wrong. Was he pissed off with me?
I wanted to ask if the farm was too much, too overwhelming.
I know if someone had taken me to a state-of-the-art gym, pointed and said, ‘Do this’, I would have run a mile.
Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe all I’d done is show him what he can’t have – and he wants this desperately.
I could tell by the way he looked at me before we got into the car.
He was so full of energy, it was like he was lit up from within. It was infectious.
Maybe it was my fault. My brain had stuttered the moment he swiped away the jam on my face.
I’d stared at the thumb in his mouth way too long for friends.
I’d pictured the way his tongue would have swiped across the pad of his thumb, and I hate that my brain imagined that feeling… elsewhere. It was stupid, reckless.
‘I love this song,’ I said, leaning across to turn it up. I didn’t love the song. It was some indie band I’d heard on the radio a few times.
More silence. My teeth were on edge.
What’s wrong? I wanted to scream. I wanted to climb into his head and read his thoughts. Did he like the farm? Was he inspired? Could I help him persuade Liam to take the leap?
No, Lydia. Other people’s emotions are not your problem.
I’d promised myself on top of Snowdon that I wouldn’t shrink myself just because someone else sighed or stared out of the window a bit too hard. If Ren wants to talk about something that is wrong, he will have to say it out loud.
Finally, we pulled into the campsite carpark, the windscreen wipers were going like the clappers, barely keeping up with the downpour.
I turned off the engine, throwing us into darkness.
Ren was still quiet, although I could see the steady rise and fall of his chest out of the corner of my eye.
Anxiety clamped down on my chest. I couldn’t breathe in the car.
I needed to say something or I was going to explode.
‘Look,’ I began, voice thick. I pushed it into a light, airy sound.
‘If it pushed you too hard, or freaked you out, I get it. I mean, if someone took me to a random gym and told me I could open one, I’d probably have a meltdown too.
I just wanted you to see that it was possible.
That it wasn’t a crazy idea. But if you’d prefer, we can just forget it.
We don’t have to mention it again.’ I spotted a light by the campsite.
‘Oh – I think Mandy is waiting up for us.’
I pushed out the door, the rain hitting me full in the face. The wind and rain whipped around us, and I could hear the sound of the tarp of the tents in the wind.
‘Lydia. Wait!’ A hand came to my elbow, stilling me. Ren was in front of me, rain hit our faces, but he didn’t seem to care. ‘What are you on about?’
I licked the rain from my lips. I was grateful for the dark, so Ren couldn’t see my cheeks flushing in embarrassment. ‘You haven’t said a word in the car. I read between the lines. The visit to the farm freaked you out. It’s fine! I’d be exactly the same.’
I turned, pacing across the campsite, lit only by the glow of half-asleep tents.
‘You have it so wrong, Lydia,’ Ren called back. ‘Will you just stop, so I can talk to you?’
‘It’s fine!’ My voice broke. ‘We don’t need to talk about it.’
‘Clearly we do, because you’ve got the wrong end of the stick completely.’
I turned to face him. ‘Then why were you so quiet? Why were you so miserable in the car? You know how things like that make me feel. I can’t stand the silent treatment, Ren.’
Ren huffed. ‘That’s rich—’
Ren stopped himself, closed his eyes, but it was too late. Anger burned through my chest.
‘That is not the same thing,’ I snapped.
He rubbed a hand across his forehead. ‘I’m sorry. It was a stupid comment. You know I don’t think before I speak.’
My eyes burned. God, I hated that I always cried when I argued.
‘Hey, hey!’ Ren stepped closer. ‘I’m sorry I was quiet in the car. I just had a lot on my mind. And it was nothing to do with the farm.’
He said it in this low, knowing voice, like it was supposed to be obvious.
‘Then what does it have to do with, Ren?’
I’m sick of his bullshit. I’m tired of the lack of communication.
Ren stepped forward, his face fierce. ‘It’s to do with the fact I was trying to figure out how the fuck I can be your friend – just your friend – when you did something like that for me.’
My heart raced as he took another step closer, rain dripping from his lashes and his mouth, and I couldn’t help but imagine tracing those raindrops with my mouth.
I should be opening my mouth to disagree with him – to tell him we would never be anything but friends, but I couldn’t, especially when Ren said the next words.
‘I was trying to keep myself from kissing you senseless.’ My lips parted at his words, and his eyes followed the movement.
‘I was trying to forget that I know the way you taste. The way you moan. I was trying to forget the fact that I remember every second of that night, even if you’re busy trying to burn it from your memory.
I was trying to convince myself that having you in my life is more important than the fantasy of having all of you.
’ He said those words like a caress. I shivered.
‘I was trying to remind myself that having you in my life – as a friend – is better than not having you at all. I was trying to remember that I should be grateful you even talk to me. Grateful you are so kind, so thoughtful, that you’d take me to that farm and show me my dream up close.
The whole way home I was trying to remind myself that I had my chance, and I completely, utterly, fucked it.
And that I deserve to feel the twist in my chest every time you say the word “friend”. ’
He spat the last word.
‘So no.’ Those dark eyes shifted all over my face. ‘I wasn’t overwhelmed. Or suffocated. I’m—’ he dragged in a breath. He gave a huffed laugh that sounded a little hysterical. Like he’d gone mad. ‘I want you, Lydia. I want you as more than a friend. And it’s killing me.’
Our breathing was ragged as we faced off.
His words eddied around my brain. While I had been spiralling in the car, Ren had spent the entire journey thinking all of that. Thinking about kissing me. About making me moan.
‘So yes, I guess you could say I was “freaking out”. But it certainly wasn’t about the farm.
It was about what I would do if you ever looked at me like this again.
’ His hand trailed across my jaw. ‘Just like this. A little wild.’ His thumb ran across my lips.
‘And a little like you’d like me to mess you up. ’
Desire bloomed low in my belly, just as Ren’s eyes dropped to my mouth.
Mine followed like a reflex. The rain slid down his cheeks, tangled in his lashes.
Every muscle in my body tightened. Every instinct in my body screamed yes.
Lean in, let go, forget everything other than his words and how they made me feel soft and achey and languid.
And I couldn’t fight this any more.
A beam of light shone across Ren’s face.
‘Lydia? Ren? There you are!’ Mandy’s voice sounded across the campsite. ‘I’ve been trying to call you!’
I stepped back, out of Ren’s arms’ way. Mandy strode across the camp, her short, dark hair soaked, her eyes shifting between Ren and me, eyes more than a little curious.
‘Lydia, your tent is flooded, love. I’m sorry. Bloody rain came in sideways in the past hour, and with the rain yesterday too.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Well, the ground couldn’t soak it all up.’
‘I told you to camp nearer me,’ Ren said under his breath. ‘You were on the lowest ground.’
I blinked. ‘Sorry, I think I heard you wrong. You said my tent is flooded.’
‘Completely. I couldn’t even recover the pyjamas you’d left. And the book you’d left out – Savaged by the Sea Lord, was it? It’s completely soaked.’
My face turned pink, and I heard Ren’s exhalation of surprise.
‘Desired effect, by the sounds of it,’ Ren said, his voice low and dry.
‘Shut it,’ I elbowed Ren before turning to Mandy, plastering on a smile. ‘I’ll share with Amy.’
Mandy’s smile turned to a grimace. ‘Amy and Gen are sharing and they’ve headed to sleep already. They tried to stay up, but they were so tired after the walk today.’
My eyes shifted to Amy and Gen’s tent. Their lamp was on. My eyes narrowed.
I cleared my throat. ‘I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me waking them up in this circumstance.’
Mandy glanced behind her, to Amy and Gen’s tent. She hummed. ‘Their tent is small for three people.’
Shit! It was a small tent, one that was low to the ground, too. Panic began to set in. Problem solving began to kick in.
‘My tent can’t be that bad,’ I laughed, making my way over to my tent. I unzipped it to find three inches of water. ‘No, no, no. This can’t be happening.’
I stood up, needing to pace. ‘This can’t be happening.’
‘It’s okay. I’ve thought of a solution while you were gone.’ Mandy turned to Ren, ‘Ren, I don’t suppose you would mind sharing with Lydia? Your tent is bone-dry and you’re old friends, right? So it won’t be a problem for one night.’
My heart lurched. Share a tent with Ren – after he’d said all of those things. I could almost feel his thumb tracing across my lips. My eyes shot to him. He had an artfully schooled expression.
‘Of course,’ he said, his voice low.
‘No.’
Ren shot me a warning look. Be reasonable, it said.
‘We’ll manage,’ Ren said to Mandy, who nodded and headed back to her tent. He turned to me, guiding me by the elbow towards his tent. I resisted.
‘No, no chance,’ I said. ‘This is a serious inconvenience. I’ll sleep in my car!’
Ren didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate. He just kept moving, chivvying me along by my elbow as we approached his blue tent. It was further away from the other tents, and on slightly higher ground.
‘Lydia,’ he said in my ear. ‘It’s one night. We can dry your tent out, and it will be as good as new tomorrow. You can share with me.’ He lowered his voice. ‘No funny business. We don’t—’ he squeezed his eyes shut. ‘We can just forget what I said.’
‘Forget,’ I repeated.
‘If it helps,’ he said, strained. ‘One night. I can keep my hands to myself.’ He smiled softly. ‘Just like old times.’
My pulse jumped.
‘Fine. But we’re doing the pillow wall.’
‘Lydia.’ Ren’s voice was low, and knowing, ‘You and I both know those pillow walls never worked. You’d wake up wrapped around me in the morning anyway.’
Pink stained my cheeks.
‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ I muttered to myself.