Page 20 of Heartless As Puck

SIX

JANE

I eased the door handle down bit by bit, pushed the door open, and peered out through the gap created.

No sign of Austin.

Thank God.

Despite having plenty of time to process yesterday, and having slept on it, I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

I tiptoed out and made my way down the stairs on silent feet. In the kitchen, I prepared his usual breakfast as well as my own bowl of Greek yogurt, granola, and fruit. His dinner was still in the fridge, so he must have eaten elsewhere last night.

“Hi, Jane.”

“Eek!” I spun around, my hand flying to my chest, my heart hammering. Austin stood behind me in a sweat-soaked T-shirt and gym shorts. “You scared me. Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” Sheepishness was an unfamiliar expression on him. He was usually so self-confident. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” My left knee started to bounce, and I bit my lower lip. Much as I was angry with him, I owed him an apology too. “I’m sorry for running off with the Range Rover yesterday. It’s safe and sound in the garage now, I promise.”

I didn’t apologize for losing my temper with him. Frankly, he’d deserved that.

“I know. I’m the one who should be sorry. I⁠—”

“Let’s not talk about it,” I cut him off.

He shifted from one foot to the other, and I almost squirmed. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had an encounter quite this awkward.

I grabbed his breakfast and thrust it toward him. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Head down, I selected a spoon from the drawer and circled the counter to sit at the breakfast bar while I ate. My tablet was already on a stand, so I switched the screen on and opened the professor’s brief on an assignment that was due at the end of the week, intending to take advantage of the chance to get a little work done.

But Austin didn’t take his breakfast to the table, as he usually would. Instead, he claimed the stool beside mine. If I inhaled through my nose, I’d no doubt smell clean masculine sweat and a hint of the liniment he always wore during the ice hockey season.

“Where did you go yesterday afternoon?” he asked, venturing dangerously close to forbidden territory.

I glanced over, but fortunately, he was looking at his breakfast rather than at me. His cobalt eyes could be intense, and I wasn’t prepared for that. In fact, he’d thrown off my entire morning routine and now I didn’t know what to do or say. For some reason, I didn’t want to mention the ice rink. It felt too personal.

“I just drove around.” I kept my tone light. “Don’t worry: I filled the Range Rover and paid for it myself.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I don’t care if you run it dry.”

Of course he did. No one expected to have to pay for their assistant to throw a tantrum. Not that I’d used quite as much gas as I might have led him to believe, considering all I’d done was visit the rink.

I dunked my spoon into the yogurt, scooped out a healthy dollop, stuck it into my mouth, and closed my eyes for a moment to enjoy the rich taste and creamy texture.

Austin sipped his green smoothie and then cleared his throat. “Before yesterday, did you know I wasn’t aware of who your family are?”

I shoveled more yogurt, wishing I’d retreated to my room instead of following my usual routine and eating here. “I figured that either you didn’t know, or you knew and didn’t care.”

“I see.”

He didn’t say anything else. Nor did I.

We ate quietly, except for the chink of cutlery against pottery and the occasional cough or sigh. It was almost painful. I leapt to my feet as soon as I was done, tidied away my bowl, and started on the breakfast dishes. Once the cleaning up was finished, I packed a lunch for Austin to take with him and slid it to him along with a water bottle.