52. Present Day – February
52
PRESENT DAY – FEbrUARY
JOSIE
A s I finish laying out my latest canvases to dry, there’s a thump at the door. I cast my eye over the blue series; it’s not my usual palette, but it seems fitting. And my Etsy store needs an injection of new work.
Arguing with Mum has left me feeling untethered, and when I think of my dad storming off without even listening to me, I feel borderline furious. But mostly I feel sad they don’t get me — have no interest in finding out about the real me. They just want to keep their version of me safe. Bored, beige, but safe. That’s not fucking living.
The pounding comes again, thundering now, and I leap up and cross to the door. Not expecting visitors, my heart rate skitters up.
Scott’s face fills the peep hole, a deep scowl on his brow makes a rock plummet inside me. I haven’t seen him look like this since that awful night at Coco’s. With an unsteady hand, I open up as quickly as I can.
‘I’ve done something,’ he babbles, no greeting, and that rock descends further to my feet. Shit. ‘Fuck,’ he drags his fingers through his hair. He looks awful — stressed, exhausted — and coils of anxiety tighten through me.
‘I should have talked about it with you first. But actually, it’s something I needed to do, so …’ His eyes are dark, intense, there’s a look on his face I can’t place. I wonder if I’m about to be sick. ‘Oh, Fuck. You’re gonna hate this. But I think it’s the only way.’
‘Scott, you’re scaring me.’ I step back.
‘No, I didn’t mean—’ He steps in to me, pulling me to him, squeezing me tight. ‘I hope you’ll think it’s a good thing.’
‘Please …’ Struggling to understand, I wrap my fingers around his shoulders as I lean away. ‘Just tell me.’
‘Look, your dad came round. Wanting me to end things with you.’
‘What?’ I squeal. ‘And that’s a good thing?’
‘No. I mean … Sorry.’ His frown deepens. ‘I can’t get my words out.’ Scott’s huge shoulders bob up and down as he takes a deep breath, resting his forehead on mine. ‘You were right. He’s scared. And it’s blinding him to seeing the real you.’ He peers down to me. ‘He didn’t want you to leave them.’
Finally, finally he smiles, and I manage to eek in a breath.
‘I’ve organised a way to ease his fears and honour Marcus.’
‘Really? What?’ The change of tone feels like whiplash.
‘To do something in his memory.’
‘Okaaaay.’ I look him over for any sign of another tattoo.
‘While we’re travelling,’ he adds, eyes sparkling.
Frowning, I shake my head a little. I am so confused right now.
His mouth twitches again and he swallows, locks his gaze on me and says, ‘I signed us all up to hike the Machu Picchu trail.’
My heart flip flops, not knowing whether to soar or plummet. ‘ All of us?’
‘Yeah. Your parents and Jamie, too.’
‘What?’ I can’t keep the shrill ring out of my voice. Fury and disbelief colliding, overtaking my confusion. ‘My dad wanted us to split up and so you’re inviting him along ?’
‘Well, yeah.’ He gives a slow one-shouldered shrug like duh , of course. ‘It’s just for a week. Your parents are worried about you.’ He cups a large hand to my face, curling his fingers behind my ear. His touch is instantly reassuring. ‘They’re gonna miss you.’ He speaks quietly, the deep rasp settling over me like a blanket. ‘This way, they can see you half way round — it’s not so long and daunting to wait.’
Scott gently trails his fingers down my neck, as he rubs my shoulders the tension melts away.
‘Then they’ll see you killing it with a backpack and they can be reassured you’ve got this.’ Scott widens his eyes in gentle encouragement, the amber flecks smouldering in the dark brown. His faith in me is almost bone melting. ‘It’s a chance for all of us to start trying to work things out, together. To honour Marcus, together.’
My thoughts are reeling between angst, anger, surprise and everything in between. ‘That’s …’
He winces, eyes imploring as they look out at me under his scrunched brow. ‘Are you mad?’
I nibble my lip and whisper, ‘I’ve always wanted to do Machu Picchu.’
‘I’ve always wanted to, too.’ He slips his hands down my arms and interlaces my fingers with his. ‘Marcus and I were going to ride up South America like Che Guevara. We used to be obsessed with The Motorcycle Diaries. ’
My throat thickens as I remember Marcus’s Che phase, the poster on his wall. Scott’s idea is more than befitting; it’s masterful, in fact. Beautiful.
‘I’m not mad.’ I shake my head, blinking back tears.
‘I thought, maybe it’ll be a bonding … healing … kind of trip.’ He kisses each of my temples then the crown of my head before pulling away. ‘I want them to see you how I see you. But honestly, they can join in or be left out.’ His voice is louder again, the assertive bartender is back. ‘We’re going.’
Scott has a way of making me feel so completely safe, cared for, seen, dominated but capable. Empowered, supported. I almost can’t cope. My knees buckle and I cling to him. He clutches me against his hard body, all my soft parts made stronger from just being near him.
Into my hair, he murmurs, ‘Plus, we can raise a fuckton of money for Oldton Park’s ITU.’
‘We’re doing it for charity?’ A warmth spreads through my chest and I find the strength to stand straighter.
‘I did some research.’ He leads me over to the sofa, where he pulls me down onto his lap. ‘Only so many permits are released a year to protect the trail.’
I run my fingers through his hair as I listen.
‘But by signing up to fundraise for a charity means I’ve secured us five of them.’ He strokes up and down my leg as he continues. ‘I always try to raise money for the ITU, they worked so hard to try and save Marcus.’ We share a sad smile, but before we can get too morose, Scott laughs again and says, ‘Nate’s already got ideas coming out of his arse and Enzo’s giving him a run for his money. Speed dating, a music festival, Nate’s calling it Bull Fest already.’
Bewildered, I shake my head slightly back and forth. ‘Wow. This is all … a lot.’
‘A good lot?’
I roll my lips in a watery smile. ‘The best.’ My voice cracks with emotion.
‘Phew.’ He chuckles. ‘We do need to figure out how to tell your family, though. Maybe get them in training.’
I wrap my arms around his neck, squeezing every inch of my body against his. Fuck, this man feels so good. He is so good. The adrenaline that spiked in me a moment ago undulates and starts to regroup, pitching heat towards my centre.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘You okay?’ He pulls away a touch, looking at me in the way he does that makes me feel like he’s reading my soul.
‘Yeah,’ I gasp, trying to regulate my breath.
‘You sure you don’t hate the idea?’ His brow furrows, a deep-set eleven appearing. ‘Did I get carried away?’
‘Oh, no, it’s just … I got pretty stressed out back then … not sure what you were going to say.’ I slip my hands down his chest to his waist and take a firm grip on his belt, tugging to free the buckle. ‘That was a fucking rollercoaster. I could do with … some help … decompressing?’ It comes out as a question.
Scott’s voice instantly drops about three octaves. ‘You need me to make you come, Angel? Burn off a little angst?’
I nod. Fuck yes, I do.
Knowing it’ll drive him wild, I bat my lashes to pretend to be cute and innocent. ‘Yes, please.’
‘Seems like a completely acceptable request.’ He tightens his arms around me, then stands with me clutched to his chest. I wrap my legs around his waist. ‘Almost like it’s necessary for your mental health.’
‘They do call it a health hump for a reason.’ I slide my hands up his front, gently scratching my nails around his neck and up and into his hair.
‘Who does?’ he rumbles right into my ear.
‘Mainly me.’
He gives a single nod as if that was the right answer and then presses his mouth to mine. I kiss him deeply, sucking his bottom lip as his hands readjust to grip my backside. He walks us through the tiny flat until we hit my bed.
‘Get on,’ he growls, lowering me down and then walks around the side and starts to open the bottom drawer of my bedside table.
‘What are you?—?’
‘Hunting for my teammate.’ He rummages through some underwear until he finds his prize, my purple vibrator, holding it up triumphantly. ‘I need to make sure you get some proper stress relief.’
‘How did you know about that?’
‘Caught a glimpse when I was searching for a toothbrush a couple of weeks ago. Have to say, I’ve been waiting for the opportunity.’
‘You only had to ask nicely.’ I use his words against him, earning me a twisted smirk as he prowls across the bed to me. He pulls me down flat and crawls on top.
I love the feel of him pinning me there.
‘Please,’ he says, voice so rough it could tear my underwear to shreds.