Yet Hamish had stayed on top of the covers.
It was made worse by the fact that he had, with her permission, stripped to his boxers. Tradie boxers. Black, tight, and not the least bit unappealing.
Judging by his deep, regular breathing, he’d managed to sleep. She, on the other hand, could have counted each of the rhythmic breaths he’d taken. Fortunately, they’d stayed up chatting over their glasses of water as though they were a good Scotch until 4 am, so she’d only had to pretend to be asleep for a couple of hours before she could sneak out to take a long shower.
She was rinsing their glasses from the previous night when Hamish emerged from the shower, fully dressed now. He held up the toothbrush she’d given him.
‘Chuck it?’
‘Why don’t you leave it here? In case you need it again sometime.’ God, where was her self-respect? She needed to go for a run, drum it into her brain that he’drejectedher. ‘Having survived the night, thanks to you, I’m heading to the beach.’
‘Because that’s what everyone does on a winter morning.’
‘Best time—I’ll have the place to myself. I know you’re not into running, but I’ll buy you a coffee.’ So much for her head-clearing solitude. ‘There’s a kiosk on the front. You know, for the lazy folk.’
Hamish glanced at his phone, probably checking his other social engagements. ‘I’m in if you promise we can walk, not run. I’m fully embracing my year off footy training.’
Her heart kicked at the unexpectedness of his acceptance. ‘Settle on a fast stroll … ?’
‘Deal.’
She picked up her car keys, dangling them from one finger. ‘First we have to walk back to where I left the car last night.’
Hamish shook his head and sighed. ‘Booze and parties. The sordid life of our elite legal profession.’
For once she didn’t appreciate the niche exclusivity of her lifestyle. ‘Yeah, it gets a bit that way.’
‘I would have thought the Adelaide legal scene would be chill compared to, say, Sydney?’ Hamish double-checked the door as they left the apartment but Jemma didn’t feel a need to scan her surroundings. There was something to be said for having a muscular bodyguard shadowing her footsteps.
‘I suppose it’s quieter in some ways,’ she said. ‘But alcohol is the lubricant of choice for the system, so the drinking and networking culture is still prevalent.’
Just enough sun peeked through the clouds to defrost the edges of the crisp morning. She darted across the road.
Hamish joined her on the median strip, grabbing her hand. ‘You have a death wish? That was literally the only car in sight.’
‘You wanted me to wait for it?’
‘I doubt waiting is something you have much experience with.’
‘Sounds like a great way to waste a life.’
‘Or perhaps how to enjoy a life,’ Hamish suggested. ‘You admitted last night that you like the slower pace of the country.’
‘Yeah, for a holiday. But you can’t spend your whole life like that. There’d be no incentive to strive and achieve.’ Relieved to see her car was where she’d left it, she beeped it unlocked.
‘I find the need to make a living is something of a motivator,’ Hamish said dryly. He folded himself into her car. ‘Besides, where’s the incentive in being stressed as, having some loony after you, and not feeling safe in your own space—’
‘Well, obviously that’s not usually part of the job,’ she snapped.
‘I get that. But last night, you were telling me all about cases you’ve argued, and how important it is that you win, for you personally, not just the client. So it kind of sounds like maybe it’s not so much that you want to achieve as you’re scared to risk failure.’
‘Risk is simply due to a lack of planning: and I don’t plan tofail.’ She stamped the brakes at the lights. Failure meant ridicule and she was never opening herself up to that again. ‘I’ve accomplished everything I’ve set out to do. Making partner is the pinnacle.’
‘And then what?’
‘When I make partner? I continue to work.’
‘Nothing actually changes?’
