She touches my hand, and I have nowhere left to look except for the deep blue pools of her eyes.
“I’m sorry if I confused you, but the truth is, every time you’re near, I need to touch you, lick you from head to toe, and… other stuff.” She blushes, glancing at her feet for less than a second. “I want you so badly it hurts.”
When her focus returns to me, her lips part and glisten after her tongue slowly runs over them. I’m in so much trouble, but I don’t care. She’s falling for me too. That’s all I need to hear.
“But…”
Whatever this ‘but’ is, my bubble doesn’t have to burst. I can deal with it.
“…each time we’re close, I can’t shake this guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach.”
“Because of Fraser?” I ask, wishing this guy would disappear.
“Not Fraser.” Angie takes a deep, noticeable breath. “Because of Scott.”
I lean forward. “Take my hand, babe.” Her hand folds into mine. “You feel that?” I ask her.
She nods and her lips flicker into a smile.
“It means I've got you. That's what you should feel, not guilt.”
She closes her eyes. “Jesus, Tom. I wish it was that easy.”
“It can be. Do you know how long I've wanted you?” Her eyes dart to mine, and I glance at our joined hands. “Remember the first time we played Braebeach festival?”
“Your first major gig? Of course I do.” Her face lights up.
“Well, after our set, I tried looking for you.”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t know that.”
“I wanted to talk to you because I knew I’d made a mistake. The thought of losing you was driving me crazy and I wanted you to take me back. I guessed you’d probably gone home and I’d catch up with you before we left town the next day, but it didn’t happen.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t leave. I camped over that year.”
“Yeah, I know. I found out about you and Scott months later, which is when I had to accept that we were over. Up until that point, I thought we’d hook up again once I got home from the States.”
Angie squeezes my hand and we’re silent for a few seconds until I say, “Scott told me a long time ago that you two got together at the festival.”
Her hands leave mine and her fingers run across her forehead as if she’s embarrassed. “Jesus, why would he do that?”
“It wasn't like he was bragging, more like thanking me for doing him a favour. When I didn’t return from the States straight away, he made his move on you. I don’t blame him.” She blushes, and I can’t help brushing the back of my hand across her cheek. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’d want to shout it from the rooftops if you were mine too.”
“Don’t, Tommy.” She looks away.
“Don’t what?”
“Talk about the two of you like it was a competition and he won. I believe in fate, and I think that whatever happened between you and me, Scott and I would have found each other eventually.”
My words are hurting her, and that’s the last thing I want. I’m not trying to imply that if we’d got back together, Scott would never be in the picture, but that’s how I’m coming across. I need to explain this better.
“You know, when I lost you, I missed you. It hurt like fuck, but I also knew I wasn’t good enough and Scott was. There’s no doubt in my mind that the two of you were meant to be. I had a lot of growing up to do before I could think about any relationship seriously. I didn’t see it like that at the time, but now it all makes sense.”
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she says as her fingers smooth across my stubbled jaw.
She looks so worried, so I try to reassure her. “You didn’t. It was self-inflicted.”
She sighs, then takes my hand. “Just for the record, you were always good enough, Tom. What we had was bad timing.”
