Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
TOBIAS
Since our kiss on Sunday, I’ve kept my distance from Rebecca. Or maybe she’s keeping her distance from me. Either way, I haven’t seen her or Isla, and I miss them. The very thing I feared happening has happened. I showed my hand and ended up losing them both.
I never should have kissed her. Or was it her who kissed me?
It’s all muddled in my mind, memories fuzzy and incoherent.
All I know is the feel of her lips, the way her breasts flattened against my chest, the touch of her hand on my cheek, they all changed me on a cellular level.
The truth is, I don’t wish it hadn’t happened.
It’s more I wish it could happen again, and again, and again.
And this from a man who’s avoided intimacy his entire life.
The irony isn’t lost on me.
My Wednesday morning passes at the rate of sludge traveling uphill.
I swear at one point the clock goes backward instead of forward.
I throw myself into work, but it’s no help.
I can’t stop fidgeting, like I’m sitting on a cactus.
Both times Bea has walked into my office—once to bring me a coffee and the second to drop off papers that needed signing—she’s given me this side-eyed look filled with a combination of curiosity and concern.
She knows something’s up, and I’m waiting for her to ask me, a ready lie on the tip of my tongue. More likely, a diversionary joke.
The third time my door opens, I brace myself for Bea’s special brand of interrogation. But it isn’t Bea who enters.
“Hi,” Rebecca says, fiddling with the hem on her jumper. Seems I’m not the only one who’s fidgety today.
“Hey.” I get up from my desk, although I’ve no idea why. Sliding my hands into my trouser pockets, I jerk my chin. “What’s up?”
How fucking lame?
“Nothing. I just…” She sighs. “I’ve been avoiding you, and I’m sorry.”
My crooked smile gives me away. “It’s me who’s been avoiding you.”
We stare at each other for a second, then both burst out laughing. The tension hovering in the room evaporates.
“Can we talk?” Rebecca asks. “I’ve got a couple of hours free. Daisy had a routine vet appointment, and Vicky offered to take Isla with her.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” I slam the lid on my laptop and grab my jacket. “It’s almost lunchtime. How about a picnic in the gardens? It’s a nice day.”
She breaks into a smile. “That sounds great.”
“Let me get changed. I’ll ask Bea to arrange food with the kitchen staff, and I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen. Sound good?”
“Perfect.”
I get Bea on the case, then shoot back to my rooms and change into jeans and a casual T-shirt.
I feel like a teenager excited for his first date, except my first date ended in disaster.
I’m hopeful this one will be more successful, though I wouldn’t call it a date per se.
More a clearing of the air and maybe finding a way forward.
Whether that’s on the path I’d like to walk on or the original path Rebecca and I agreed upon a few months ago, well, that’s up to her. I won’t influence her either way.
Even if it kills me.
I arrive first, but it isn’t long before Rebecca joins me.
I pick up the picnic basket, and we head to the back of the house to the lake I used to swim in with my siblings when I was a kid.
The grounds out here are manicured and extensive, and there are plenty of nooks and crannies where we can enjoy some privacy.
I choose a spot beneath an ancient oak tree. From here, the house isn’t visible, which means we can’t be seen, either. After shaking out the picnic blanket, I indicate for Rebecca to sit while I spread out the food. There’s far too much for two. At least we won’t go hungry.
“So, about Sunday.” Rebecca sighs. “I’m sorry I bailed on you. I panicked.”
“It’s me who owes you an apology. We made an agreement, and I broke it. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have, and now I’m afraid I’ve ruined everything.”
“You haven’t ruined anything. It was unexpected, that’s all.”
“I was afraid you’d think I’d taken advantage of a happy moment, what with Isla talking and all. Has she said anything else?”
Rebecca nods, animated. “Yes. She said ‘bear’ and ‘block.’ You know how she loves those building blocks. Oh, and ‘bed’ when she was tired last night. It’s not much, and it’s also everything.
I can’t wait to tell her therapist at her next appointment.
” She looks up at me through lashes I swear grow longer every time I see her.
“I stand by what I said, Tobias. This is all down to you. And so we’re clear, there was no taking advantage of me. I wanted you to kiss me.”
“Because you were grateful?”
She shakes her head. “Because you’re different.”
I chuckle. “Different isn’t always good.”
“This time, it is. It’s better than good.
It’s perfect.” She reaches for a finger sandwich and takes a small bite, chewing thoughtfully.
“I’ve only ever known bad men. It’s easy to think it’s all men.
Then you came along and proved that there are good people in the world, even if I hadn’t met any until you.
Deadbeat father, a brother in and out of prison, an abusive husband who beat me and raped me and let his friends rape me, too. ”
My hands curl into fists. I don’t think she notices, and if she does, there’s no comment. One day. One day, I’ll end every single one of them and enjoy it, too.
“I hate that your lived experience was so horrendous. No one should have to go through what you went through.”
She makes a dismissive gesture. “You’re right, no one should. It’s too common, sadly.” She finishes the sandwich and reaches for a sausage roll. “Can I say something?”
“Anything.”
“I liked kissing you.”
I smile. “I liked kissing you, too.”
“So, you weren’t… repulsed?”
“No. The exact opposite.” I scuff a hand over my chin. “I’m unsure why. Maybe it’s the circumstances where it happened, or the fact we’ve built a deep, meaningful friendship and I trust you. I don’t know.”
“Do you… would you like to kiss me again?”
“I’ve thought about nothing else since we kissed on Sunday.”
She puts the sausage roll down without touching it and shuffles closer to me. “I’m nervous,” she whispers.
“So am I.” I take her face in my hands and gently press my lips to hers. She lies down, half pulling me on top of her. Everything inside me ignites, an inferno bursting to life after years of oxygen deprivation.
Groaning, I lick inside her mouth, tasting, taking, a mantra running on repeat inside my mind.
I’m not broken. I’m not broken.
My dick hardens, and instinct takes over. I grind against her hip, seeking friction. Her hands knot in my hair, and I bury mine in hers. So good. This feels so fucking good. All this time I’ve been missing this connection, and I’m addicted.
Tingles race down my spine. An orgasm rushes at me, too late to stop it. I come, hard and fast. Stars flicker and dance behind my eyes. I tear my mouth from hers, gasping for breath. I can’t fucking believe it. I came in my pants like a bloody teenager.
“Shit.” Shifting my weight, I bury my face in her neck. “God, sorry. How embarrassing.”
“Not embarrassing. Not at all. I’m flattered.” Her fingers fumble with the button on my jeans. She gets it open. I brace for her touch, but instead of going for my dick, she slides both hands inside my jeans and boxers and caresses my arse.
For a second, I freeze. No. No, I… I can’t.
I jump to my feet. My heart double times it, an out-of-control pulse hammering at my neck. I rake both hands through my hair, pivoting, and walking away. Away from her.
“Tobias.” She touches my shoulder, and I jump. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Shrugging her off, I fasten my jeans. “No, I’m not okay.
There’s something fucking wrong with me.
When I kissed you, and I didn’t feel the same horror I’ve felt every time I’ve kissed someone, I thought I was fixed.
But I’m not fixed. I’m fucked up. When you touched me just then, I thought I was going to be sick. ”
Her face crumples, and I feel like the biggest shit in the world.
“This is me, not you.” I take a few steps away, giving her and myself space. Why couldn’t I just be normal like the rest of my family? Okay, normal doesn’t exactly describe us, but at least they don’t want to puke every time they’re touched in an intimate way.
“Hey. We’re going to figure this out.”
“I don’t know how. I’m twenty-eight, and I haven’t figured it out yet. I’m still a fucking virgin.” The laugh that comes out of me is more bitter than a tart lemon, and there’s a note of despair, too. “Now, that is embarrassing.”
“No.” A single word, short and sharp. So sharp it brings my gaze to hers. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that. There is no shame in being a virgin. None. Do you hear me?” When I nod, her expression softens. “Have you thought anymore about therapy?”
“Yes, but… I don’t know. I don’t even know where to start. I’m not sure I can talk to a stranger when I haven’t a clue why I’m like this.”
“But that’s the whole point. It’s literally their job to help you figure it out.”
“Yeah.” I scuff a hand over my chin.
“Could you talk to me? might be worth a try until you feel ready for therapy.”
“I’m not sure what I’d say to you anymore than I’d know what to say to a therapist.”
She briefly touches my elbow, then points to the blanket. “Shall we sit?”
“Sure.” I head over, crossing my legs and propping my elbows on my knees.
Rebecca joins me, sitting a good two feet away.
Something inside me breaks, and no one is more surprised than me.
I thought everything was already smashed to smithereens.
We’d grown so close, and now me and my intimacy problems have fucked everything up.
“Do you remember the first time anyone touched you sexually and what your reaction was?”
I ponder her question. “Now that you ask, yeah, I do. I was sixteen and I’d asked this girl from my year on a date. Susan McIntyre. Everyone in school fancied her. When she agreed to go out with me, I was so fucking smug.”
I offer up a crooked smile. “We went bowling. My bodyguard came with me, so it was a bit of a threesome situation, but he was a cool guy. He gave me some space, although I knew he’d be there in a second if anything untoward happened.
We had a fun time. In the car on the way home, she grabbed my dick through my jeans, and I freaked out, accidentally catching her in the face with my elbow.
Gave her a black eye. I remember apologizing and her saying it was okay, even though it wasn’t.
Suffice to say we never went on a second date.
” I chuckle to cover up my discomfort. “Can’t imagine why. ”
“Me, either.” She gives a small smile, and, God, I appreciate her teasing at this moment more than I can explain.
I frown. “I don’t think that was the catalyst, though.”
Her head tilts to one side. “What was?”
My nostrils flare on a breath. “That’s the frustrating part. I don’t know. It’s like the answers are right there, but every time I reach for them, they evaporate. I’m certain Susan McIntyre’s teenage fumble was not the reason I can’t stand the thought of intimacy, though.”
“Maybe don’t try so hard.” She smiles. “Easier said than done.”
“You’re not kidding.”
She leans back on her hands and turns her face up to the sun. “What was it like growing up here?”
I grip onto the change of subject like a lifeboat as the ship’s going down.
“Before Mum and Annabel died, it was incredible. I have such fond memories of those early years. Lake swimming with my brothers in summer, horse riding through the grounds, Mum baking cakes even though she wasn’t very good and our chef would have done a much better job. She said it showed her love for us.”
“You must miss her terribly.”
“Most days, I don’t think about her.” I grimace. “That sounds worse than I mean it to. But twenty-one years is a long time. I missed having a mother growing up. Now, it’s normal for me.”
“I don’t miss my mother at all. She was a nightmare. I basically raised myself.”
Sorrow burns a hole in my chest. I might have lost my mum, but Dad was a constant, a tower of strength, and the best father I could ever have wished for. Plus, I had my brothers and my sister, as well as staff who truly cared for us.
I lean forward and put my hand on her knee.
Touching her soothes me in a way I can’t quite understand.
All I know is being close to Rebecca is like putting cooling gel on a sunburn.
What most consider intimacy might be out of reach for me, but there are many ways to be close to someone. This is probably all I can hope for.
The thought is fucking depressing.
My phone buzzes. I reach into the back pocket of my jeans and pull it out. “Finally.”
“Who is it?”
“The private investigator.” I swipe to answer. “What have you got for me?”
“Found her. I’m sending the details to your email now.”
“Thanks.” I hang up. “He’s found her.”
Rebecca’s eyes brighten with excitement. “At last. God, I hope she can give you some answers.”
“Me, too.” I refresh my email. Nothing. Refresh. Nothing. “Come on, for fuck’s sake.” Third refresh works. I click on the mail, then the attachment.
A picture of a gray-haired woman in her late fifties fills my screen.
My stomach bottoms out, the edges of my vision turning black.
A tremor runs through my entire body, small at first, then violent enough that I almost drop my phone.
Rebecca says something, but her voice is muffled, distant, like I’m under water.
My pulse spikes. My lungs claw for air.
This can’t be real.
Rebecca touches my arm. I flinch, launching to my feet. “I-I need a minute.”
Then I’m running, running, except the one thing I’ve run from since I was eight years old has caught up to me, and there’s no escaping the horror now.