Chapter 33
Shannon
A week had passed in a blur of long shifts, endless cups of coffee, lonely bus rides, and hours spent riding horses.
The mornings were dark and damp, and the afternoons weren’t much different.
Each day blended into the next, bleak and uneventful.
“Why the hell are you so down in the dumps, Shannon?” Jess asked, as they closed up.
Shannon shrugged.
“I’m just tired. I’ve been riding more horses since my boss’s asshole son ran out on him. And with all the shifts I’m doing here, I’m exhausted all the time.”
“Seems like more than that,” Jess pressed, her eyebrow quirking. “Man trouble?”
Shannon shook her head and feigned a laugh. “Nah. You know me. I don’t have time for guys, Jess.”
“Girlfriend, you need to get your rocks off. You’re too uptight.” Jess swatted her arm.
Shannon frowned, uncomfortable with the truth. She was uptight. And life had grown more monotonous by the day.
Her days had slipped into dull routines with the occasional adrenaline boost of a competition. After she kicked Jamie out, her life lost its shine and the joy of everything seemed to fade.
“Sex isn’t the be-all and end-all, you know?” Shannon muttered, trying to sound convincing.
“Ugh! What are you, a nun?” Jess rolled her eyes.
“No. I just have priorities,” Shannon shot back, her voice defensive.
“You’re gonna be one of those old spinster ladies, living in a dusty old barn with a bunch of chickens,” Jess teased, laughing as she pulled on her jacket.
“I’m going now, little miss perfect.” Shannon rolled her eyes and offered a small, forced smile.
But as she stepped out of the cafe and into the frosty night air, she couldn’t shake the emptiness.
Jamie hadn’t been in touch. Of course he hadn’t. And truth was, she hated herself for throwing him out when he was only trying to help.
Even after he’d washed her hair in the shower and didn’t make a move.
God, she’d come across so ungrateful.
And when he said things between them could be more than just sex, she still pointed to the door.
Sighing, she knew reliving the moment he left for good didn’t matter anymore .
She did what had to be done, despite craving him more than a first place in a show jumping comp.
As usual, the long bus ride home gave her too much time to stew over the hatred in her broken heart.
Niall did that to her. Not only did he beat her down, he destroyed her chance at happiness, too.
At least when she got home, Trixie was there to offer comfort before she climbed the steps to the loft and locked the door behind her.
She couldn’t even bring herself to have her usual glass of wine, so she changed into clean pyjamas and crawled under the sheets, letting out a frustrated groan, annoyed with herself for feeling so miserable.
She finally gave in to the exhaustion, drifting off to sleep, her mind quieting as the warmth of the bed drew her in. In what seemed like a flutter of an eyelid, the front door rattled, then banged from the other side.
Her body jolted awake, every muscle tensing as her heart leapt into her throat.
Groggy and disoriented, she scooted out of bed, cracked open her bedroom door and held her breath, trying to make sense of the noise.
“Shannon!” The male voice called from outside, followed by another bang. “It’s me, Jamie.”
A rush of heat and tension flooded her chest, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her body stiffened, caught between the instinct to hide and sit on his lap.
She tiptoed closer, pressing her palm against the cool wood of the door .
“Why are you here?” she called out, trying to keep her voice steady.
“I want to hang out, but this door is getting in the damn way. Open up and let me in, love. It’s freezing out here.”
“Jamie, you can’t just show up. It’s not a good?—”
“Look, love, I’m gonna get hypothermia out here. I sent my driver away.”
With a hesitant breath, she stepped back and unlocked the door, just enough to peek through the narrow gap, the chilly wind rushing in.
There he was, shivering in a pale blue shirt and designer jeans.
Amber eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and that killer dimple creased his cheek as he smiled.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice thick with liquor, pushing his way inside without waiting for an invitation.
As he strolled further into the warmth, the space seemed to come alive with his presence.
Or maybe it was just her heart reacting, racing faster at the sight of him. Everything lit up—from the room to the darkness inside her.
She inhaled deeply, the scent of his cologne filling her lungs. The familiar rush of him made her pulse skip.
“Where’s your coat?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest, trying not to focus on the heat curling in her belly. “This is Northern Ireland, Jamie, not the Maldives…or wherever you go on holiday.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, running a hand through his dark, tousled hair. “If I’d known I’d be standing out there waiting for you all night, I would've worn a fucking bearskin. You haven’t even offered me tea or a blanket, love.”
“Seriously, Jamie, why are you here?” she asked, thankful her oversized pyjamas covered the bruises that hadn’t quite healed.
He dropped onto the couch like he owned the place. His eyes locked onto hers, filled with something she couldn’t quite place.
“Had a few drinks after a meeting. Stayed at The Fitz, had a few more... Got lonely. Figured I’d check in on you.”
The casualness of his admission stirred something deep inside her. He was so unapologetically himself, even when he was being reckless.
“Got anything to drink?” he asked, looking around, as if it was the most normal request in the world.
“I was in bed…sleeping,” she groaned, palming her face in mock exasperation but trying not to smile at the way he effortlessly slid into her space. “Fine. I’ve got vodka or green tea.”
“Baby, I ain’t drinking that green shit,” he said, his lopsided grin pulling a reluctant smirk from her. “Vodka’s fine, though. Make it a double.”
Her stomach flipped. Despite herself, despite the way he’d barged in and the thousand reasons she should send him away, she found herself moving to pour the vodka.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she rejoined him, surprised to see that he’d already kicked off his shoes and made himself very comfortable on her couch.
“Cheers, love,” he said, holding up the glass with a wink, tipping it toward her before throwing back the entire contents in one go.
“Celebrating something?” Shannon perched on the arm of the couch, heat flooding her face as she tried to act nonchalant, but the flutter in her chest betrayed her.
He gave her a long, intense look.
“Nah, just wanted to see you.” His voice dropped an octave, and for the first time since he arrived, something raw, genuine flickered in his gaze. “Sit with me. Let’s watch something. Got any decent movies?”
“I have to get up early,” she said, trying to make an excuse, but her resolve was weakening by the second.
“Me too,” he said, voice thick from the alcohol, his gaze warm and steady. “But it’s a Friday, love. Live a little.”
Despite herself, Shannon found her resistance crumbling.
“Fine.” She sank onto the couch, doing her best to ignore the way her thigh brushed against his.
The contact sent a wave of heat rushing through her, and she clenched her jaw to fight it. She refused to acknowledge the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of the room, making the air heavy with unspoken words.
“I’ve got Netflix,” she offered, trying to keep things light. “There’s loads to choose from.”
He leaned his head sideways, his gaze narrowing as he watched her. “How about a bacon butty? I’ll make it this time.”
Her stomach tightened, anxiety creeping in. “I haven’t got any bacon… What about a packet of salt and vinegar crisps?”
“Nah, that’s okay,” he replied, pulling out his phone and ordering a monster-sized pizza. “I’m starving and you love pizza, right?”
“Who doesn’t?”
His laughter rumbled in the air, warm and infectious, settling over her like an electric charge. It was impossible not to smile.
“Why are you really here?” she asked.
He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back on the couch as he scrubbed his face with his hand, tired but still full of that cocky energy.
“Truthfully… I can’t get you out of my head.” His gaze fixed on her, the words coming slower, like he was wrestling with them. “I think about you all the time, Shannon. And I’m not happy knowing some fucker thinks they can hurt you with no consequences.”
Shannon’s breath hitched, a shiver running down her spine as his words wrapped around her like a tight knot. She swallowed hard, her gaze darting to the TV to avoid meeting his.
“There are plenty of other women out there to think about,” she said, her voice distant. “You’re only here tonight because I’m someone you can’t have. And that makes you want it more. That’s all, Jamie.”
He shook his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nah, love. That’s not true. I’ve already had you. Remember?”
The memory of him, the way he made her feel, surged up like a wave, threatening to drown her. She clamped down on it, determined not to let him see how much she still craved him.
“I threw you out for a reason,” she said, trying to sound firm, but even she heard the waver in her voice.
She glanced at him, taking in his full lips, the strong curve of his jaw and dark stubble scattered across. When the television clicked on, voices broke the silence.
With his attention fixed on the list of movies, Shannon dared herself to reach out and touch him. Just the thought of running her fingers through his thick hair, straddling his powerful thighs, right here, right now—it was all so tempting.
But then reality hit her. That’s his plan. He’s only here for sex. And Niall could find him here…
“Yeah, you threw me out.” Jamie sat deeper in the couch, the cockiness in his voice dripping as always. “But I knew you just needed space. Time to process.”