Page 15

Chapter 11

Alyssa remembered the field from her years of messing around here as a teenager, lounging in the long grass with friends, sipping apple cider and making wild plans they’d never see through. Most had dispersed and gone to uni and had probably never come back here. Other than Devan and Sylvie, who’d been at the local college with her. She’d once heard on the grapevine they’d stayed here after she’d left, got married and had their child. She didn’t know if they’d stuck around after that, because she hadn’t so much as google-stalked them. Other than for the purposes of never bumping into them, ever, ever again, she didn’t want to know.

She kept her gaze forward, knowing if she let it stray to the right, she’d see a big old apple tree with a twisted, mossy trunk. Sitting under that tree, which had been heavy with spring blossom in a way she’d once thought romantic, she’d had her first kiss with Devan, while a certain song had played on his phone. She’d expected it to be an awkward clash of teeth and tongues. But it had stirred her in ways that still came to her in dreams, where her heart escaped from her chest and twisted with the tree’s roots, which wrapped around them, binding them …

Alyssa felt herself stumble and she gripped Teijo’s arm. Just being here was stirring her.

‘I’m not a bloody soup,’ she muttered to herself. Anyway, it wasn’t yet spring, and the town’s apple trees would all be barren. Nothing whimsical to see here.

She straightened up and tried to focus. There was a noisy crowd ahead, and she guessed that was where they were heading.

‘Are you all right, Miss Heart?’

‘Hmm?’ She shook her head free from its thoughts and looked at Teijo, the winter sun still dazzling her.

‘You seem tense, and you were mumbling something. You’ve gone a bit pale. Are you worried about the flight? It’s safe enough, as long as the weather behaves. And I’m sure your BUM will.’ He was winking at her. Why was he doing that? What flight? And where was this BUM hiding?

Alyssa pulled away from Teijo, squinting into the distance and pulling her sunglasses from her bag to lessen the glare.

She was acutely aware of Rufus cursing behind her, as though Teijo had said too much too soon. As her vision became clearer, she scrutinised the crowd of people ahead. They’d been huddled around something, but they were backing off now, as a noise roared to life. The thing they’d been gathered around was a wicker basket, and the noise was coming from a fan, which was filling a ginormous red balloon with air. A hot air balloon. For a flight.

Her stomach dropped.

So this was why Rufus had been obsessively checking the forecast. Well, he could stick his clement weather up his backside. She whipped her head around, but he was now conveniently out of prodding distance. Alyssa did not like flying, unless it was on an aeroplane with decent seatbelts and a snack bar on wheels. Heights made her feel nauseous and out of control, and she could not embrace them one bit, unless she was safely enclosed and couldn’t see the ground disappearing. Swinging around the sky in a picnic basket did not pass that test.

What was more, she wasn’t keen on small spaces. Or people. Or being stuck in small spaces with people. Which she guessed was exactly what flying around in a picnic basket was all about.

The roar from the fan filled her ears and made her head oscillate. As a coach, she knew she ought to be in better command of her mindset. But sometimes deep breaths and visualising yourself not plummeting to a torturous end were not enough.

Somehow, she’d arrived at the edge of the crowd, even though she could barely feel her legs and her mind was racing. So this was Love Task One. No wonder she’d been kept in the dark until it was too damned late to scurry. Would the tasks get worse from here? Noticing her presence, the huddle parted. Even Teijo had dropped her arm and disappeared, and Rufus had shouted something about going back to the car to check on the mouse. Rodent duties were about all he was good for. She might see fit to compare him to one if that wouldn’t be wildly unfair on Pikachu.

Suddenly, it seemed like it was just her and the incessant roaring, and the back of someone who seemed all too familiar. It couldn’t be.

The back turned until it was a front. One she hadn’t seen for twelve years, other than in particularly embarrassing dreams. If she believed in such things, she might have said her heart almost stopped. Though that was probably just shock. What was he doing here? The last time she’d seen him she’d been in the throes of some ridiculous grand gesture of her affections. Only it hadn’t ended like it did in those big-screen love stories.

Devan Shaw.

He was almost a foot taller than her now and had definitely been getting busy with his dumbbells. She usually liked a tall man, but right then she did not appreciate feeling like a hobbit. His dark hair was blowing from the blast of the fan, allowing glimpses of the auburn he’d often been shy about – or had he been pretending about that too? Her fingers twitched as she noticed the tiny vertical dimple on the tip of his nose that she’d once loved to trace. Her fist probably just wanted to bop him. And since when did he start wearing thick-rimmed cool geek-guy glasses, which accentuated his night-sky eyes – one darker than the other?

What the actual? She shook herself down and ripped off her sunglasses, because she preferred it when the sun was blinding her.

Why the hell was he here? What was he some kind of hot air balloon specialist? One of those bloody journalists? Or just one of the crowd, smugly married and coming to gloat at her single loser antics? If he’d brought Sylvie, the lying, scheming pair of them could just sod off.

‘Beryl?’ he asked, looking into her eyes. One eyebrow quirked in question, making his glasses go wonky. It was criminal how much they suited him, sitting neatly on his good cheekbones that she absolutely wasn’t jealous of.

She stepped backwards, so she didn’t have to see his I’m so wonkily perfect features. No wonder she’d once fallen for his lies.

‘My name’s Alyssa. Alyssa Heart.’

Maybe it was nonsensical, coming back to her hometown, hoping not to bump into people she didn’t want to see and trying to pretend she was a whole new person. But they’d issued that carefully worded press release distancing her from any connection to the town. And she had changed, other than the kinky Devan dreams she was trying her best not to think about in case her face flamed red. New life, new look, completely different name. She was not that soppy teen with smudged eyeliner and glitter ballet pumps, who’d almost believed in love.

‘Beryl, it’s Devan. Maybe you don’t remember me? I mean, it was ages ago, and …’

At least no one else was close enough to hear him. He took off his glasses, as though it might jog her memory. What was with his innocent, lost-boy look? Clearly, she wasn’t the only one around here with a questionable persona.

When was this two-timing shag bag going to bugger off and leave her to this task? She had a BUM to meet, and she hoped he was less annoying than this guy.

‘Can we start again?’ Devan asked.