What could he say, apart from, ‘Pleased to meet you’?
What was he supposed todo, apart from reach for her hand and hope she didn’t flinch?
The feel of her palm against his went through him like electricity, jolting him as though he’d touched a live wire. The skin-on-skin sensation was brief but exquisite torture: a reminder of everything he’d longed for and lost, then tried to convince himself he could live without.
Hannah stared up at him as he made himself loosen his grip on her hand. Hurt briefly flashed across her features before it was chased away by something like satisfaction.Vindication. The change took only seconds, and within the blink of an eye, her face had settled back into an expression of supreme indifference.
Jude writhed with immediate awareness that he’d screwed up. Badly.
‘Likewise,’ Hannah said coolly, before mumbling something about needing to check in with the caterer and bustling off.
‘She’s a real force, that lass,’ Clive said as Hannah retreated. ‘Very impressive – she’s built her own business from nothing, and she’s only late twenties. Same age as you, I’d guess.’
Jude raised his eyebrows as if in impressed surprise – though none of this was news to him. While he knew nothing of Hannah’s personal life, he had kept abreast of how Eventurous had grown. As a teenager, she’d dreamed of setting up her own company, and he was genuinely happy that, now she’d done so, it was every bit as successful as he would have predicted. He was proud of her, though she’d probably never know it.
Jude didn’t have any social media profiles of his own, but in weak moments he’d been known to look at the Eventurous Instagram page. Hannah never featured in the images she posted there, but he could see her in them anyway. They were carefully composed, yet rich with an authentic sense of celebration – an infectious, unruly sort of joy radiating from every perfectly framed picture.
‘She’s quite easy on the eye, too,’ Clive said, with a conspiratorial wink. Jude realised too late that he’d been staring after Hannah, his eyes fixed on the door she’d gone through, like he was waiting for her to reappear.
He swallowed and turned back to Clive. ‘I suppose so.’
It seemed safer to offer this response than: ‘I know she is – she always was. And, after careful analysis of all the newly available data, it seems I’m still totally fucked.’
5
‘Thereyou are,’ Charlie sighed as Hannah stumbled back into the kitchen.
She’d told her friend she was nipping to the loo about twenty minutes ago, but – even before she was waylaid by Clive – had been met with an unexpected queue for the ladies.
‘Everything OK?’ Charlie asked. ‘I started to worry some crisis had arisen.’
It has, Hannah thought.A crisishasarisen. A massive one.
What the hell was Jude doing here?
How in holy fuck had this happened?
It seemed her extreme reluctance to oversee any university-related events in this city had been warranted – although the aversion had been about wanting to avoid memories, not actualpeople.
Even at her most cautious, Hannah would never have swerved a job on the basis she might actually bump into Jude. The prospect had seemed so remote, it was risible.
Not seeming to notice that Hannah hadn’t answered her question, Charlie went on: ‘FY to your I, there’s a hot doctorfloating around out there and youneedto witness the fitness. Six foot two at least, messy dark blond hair, Clark Kent glasses,greatarms .?.?. I felt a bit faint just looking at him – which is definitely grounds for booking an urgent appointment, don’t you think?’
Hannah’s heart thundered in her chest.Of courseCharlie had noticed him. And why wouldn’t she? She was right: he looked ridiculously good. Broader and sturdier than he’d been four years ago, his skin kissed golden by the Australian sun.
She’d instructed herself not to look at him too closely, but her eyes had refused to co-operate, sweeping over features she still knew as well as her own: a strong jaw, shadowed with stubble; a straight, proud nose and thick, expressive brows; grey eyes flecked with many shades of blue and framed by thick, dark lashes she’d envied since the first day they’d met.
‘Hannah, are you listening to me?’ Charlie demanded, frowning.
‘I .?.?. yes.’ Hannah swallowed hard. ‘Absolutely. I am listening.’
‘You’re not. And you look like you’ve just seen a puppy get run over.’ Charlie flung a tea towel over her right shoulder and crossed the kitchen to examine Hannah properly. ‘What’s wrong?’ she said, her eyes suddenly full of concern.
‘The, erm .?.?. the hot doctor,’ Hannah said, her voice thick and shaky, ‘isn’t a doctor. Not a medical one, anyway. He’s a .?.?. hot mathematician, in fact. I know him.Knewhim.’
Charlie looked briefly nonplussed before her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Oh,hellno,’ she breathed, puzzle pieces slotting into place. ‘Not the ex-best-boyfriend? The one who’s supposed to be in Australia?’
‘The same,’ Hannah confirmed, swaying slightly and wondering if she was going to be sick.
