“Haven’t said anything to anyone. I’ve never been the type of man who brags about who he’s slept with and I’d have been a fool to, given you ghosted me afterwards.”
“Fair enough. But it’s Alex. He’s the only person in Severton who can keep secrets. And he’s your brother. I’d have understood if you’d have told him.” She was half wrapped around him, using him as a crutch and he figured that if they carried on for much more, he’d need to carry her. That wouldn’t go down well with Miss Independent.
“Maybe I would’ve done at some point. Zack too. But Alex has worked something out by himself. How do you feel about me carrying you for ten minutes? Give you a break?”
“I’ll kind of hate it,” she said. “But I hurt. And I can protest that I’m okay, but I’m actually not.”
They slowed to a stop and he scooped her up. “Alex is going to drive up as far as he can. Then we get you home and in a bath. Your place for the evening is on the sofa. I’ll sort beers and food.”
“So you’re sending Alex to the bar to raid the cellar basically? And probably to check that everyone’s on shift?” she said.
Her arms were around his neck and he liked the way she felt far more than he would ever have admitted because it made him sound like a caveman.
“Pretty much. Bez’s got this weekend as shift manager though so everything will be fine. Although he’s training up a new bartender, so he’ll be in a bad mood. Do you remember the last time I carried you?”
Her laugh was hard and she coloured with pain. “Shit. That hurt. I do. It was when I was completely arseholed on cheap wine at one of Olivia Greenwood’s parties. I think I was seventeen. Oh god, Scott. I’d completely forgotten about it until now.”
He laughed, holding her closer. “I hadn’t forgotten. Although I’m surprised you remember anything.”
She leaned into his chest, her arms around his neck. “You really did save me that night. Greg, whatever his name was, was really trying it on. I swear he put vodka in my wine. As soon as I saw you…”
“You stumbled towards me, told me how much you loved me and how much you’d missed me. Then you clung on for dear life and started to cry. I had no idea what you were saying, but we were half way to your house when I had to hold your hair back because you were vomiting everywhere. It was like a scene from Carrie.” It had also been the first time he’d held her hair, something he’d never gotten out of his head.
“I do kind of remember that. Greg was on at me to go into the clubhouse with him so I’d be comfier, but I think he just wanted to get me alone. I was that drunk I was on the point of just going.”
It was a good thing he hadn’t known that then. That was around the time he’d figured he liked her as more than a friend, but she was seventeen and he was twenty, and it was a weird age difference at that point. She wasn’t technically old enough to drink alcohol, he worked in bars a lot doing gigs… He’d tried to put her out of his head. But if he’d known Greg Smith was trying to touch her when she didn’t want, Greg wouldn’t have had any hands left.
“Here’s Alex.” He spotted the lights of his brother’s car. “He’ll probably have the dogs with him.”
“Cool,” she said, arms still holding onto him. He wondered how hard she’d actually hit her head. “They can keep me warm.”
“You feel cold?” He’d undertaken fairly extensive first aid training as part of being in the search and rescue team. Cold wasn’t good.
“Shaky. I think it’s probably shock.”
“Okay, I’ll sit in the back with you. I’d feel better if we got you to a hospital.”
Alex pulled up in the middle of the track and got out, two dogs at his heels, their tongues lolling.
“How about I message Patsy and see if she’ll come round to check on me? I’m pretty sure that going to the emergency department would mean a five-hour sit in the waiting room and then sent home anyway.” She said the words slowly, as if tiredness was making it too difficult to be fast.
Scott nodded, lifting her down. Alex helped her into the car while he took off his backpack and chucked it in the boot. It had been a hell of a day, and he wasn’t entirely sure how the evening was going to pan out.
11
Keren felt as if someone had taken a big stick to her with a lot of pointy sharp bits and rollered her with it – hard. What was worse was that she knew it would be more painful in the morning and she’d likely look as she’d gone ten rounds with the blue and purple paint section at a hardware store.
She wallowed in the bath, bubbles and the glass of very low strength wine her solace, and listened to Scott and Alex downstairs playing retro computer games. Scott had always been a sore loser and Alex was quietly very good at most things, so she was finding it amusing listening to Scott get incredibly frustrated.
It was good to know she hadn’t been melted by him completely.
Yet.
And that was the problem. How did she handle him? He had done wickedly good things to her body, to the extent where she couldn’t remember another man making her feel that way. He was up for a repeat, but he also seemed up for something more: not just a multiple night stand.
Today, he’d been her saviour. He still was.
There was a tap a door, following a spate of silence from downstairs.
