Page 19

When will you be back at the cottage?

Jake

I’m going to spend the night here. I’m pretty tired, and Luke set me up on the sofa.

Fucking great.

My stomach churns at the thought of going back to the cottage alone. Richard thinks I still share a bed with Bailey because of the nightmares that have plagued me since I was seven, but sharing a bed with someone has never stopped them. The point has never been to stop them. I don’t deserve that kind of peace. But when I wake in the early hours of the morning screaming and sweating, still trapped in that car, I need someone there to pull me out again.

Now Bailey’s gone. Jake’s gone. And all I’m left with is a giant Scottish man who I’m pretty sure is staring at my lips again.

I don’t know how to ask him to let me stay the night without offering him something in return. There’s too much pressure building in my chest, and I want to scream just to see if it will go away.

“You coming?” Robbie asks, grinning at me.

“Sure,” I mumble, throwing the passenger door open.

Robbie lives in a little cottage similar to Theo’s, except this one has a large thatched roof. It’s not at all what I imagined he’d choose to live in.

“It was my folks’,” he says, nodding towards the cottage, as if he can read my thoughts.

Inside, he takes me through to the living room. The roof slopes off to one side and thick wooden beams line the ceiling.

“Cosy,” I say, flopping down on a large corner sofa draped with crocheted blankets. I wear my usual mask of indifference, hoping it hides the anxiety buzzing under my skin. “The ladies must love coming back here with you, expecting a bachelor pad, only to find grannycore instead.”

Robbie crouches by the fireplace, his shoulders tensing at my words. “Like I said, it was my parents’ cottage.” A fire roars to life and he stands up, dusting soot off his hands, leaving black smears across his jeans. “Do you want something to drink?” he asks.

I nod, getting off the sofa to follow him. “Just one, then I should probably be going.” The words scratch at my throat as I force them out, but I need him to know I’m not here for anything more. I feel trapped, not wanting to stay but also not wanting to be alone.

Robbie doesn’t say anything about me wanting to leave, and doesn’t seem disappointed that nothing’s going to happen between us. It relieves a little pressure.

I pause in the hall, taking in the peeling wallpaper, worn carpets, and photo frames scattered throughout. One photo catches my eye. A man who looks like Robbie but with short dark hair and a skinnier build is holding a chubby toddler. Next to it, a wedding picture—the same man but younger, wearing a kilt, beside a tall, beautiful woman with chestnut-brown hair in a white silk gown.

Something niggles in the back of my mind. It feels important, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.

I scan the wall, but there are no other photos of the woman. There are a few more of Robbie and his dad, though. The last one shows a teenage Robbie holding a huge lobster, looking horrified. His dad has one arm over his shoulders, grinning with pride.

I’m about to ask where his parents are now when Robbie appears in front of me, holding out a glass of clear, sparkling liquid.

“It’s just tonic,” he says quickly.

He’s too observant. I’ve no idea how he knows I don’t drink alcohol anymore when I haven’t told him.

Silence settles between us in the narrow hallway, and I have no idea what to say or do. I don’t know what he’s thinking. There’s no sexual tension between us; as soon as we entered the cottage it just vanished out of existence. I feel self-conscious, wondering if I’ve done something wrong. He was flirting earlier. I don’t always pick up on it, but I’m sure …

The hallway doesn’t feel big enough for us anymore. Robbie’s taking up so much space, I don’t know how he fits between the walls.

I need to get out of here.

The glass is cold in my hand, reminding me it’s there. I bring it to my lips and swallow it all in one go. “Alright, I’ve had my one drink, you can drive me home now.” I’d rather suffer through being alone than suffocate in this awkward silence.

Robbie stands with his mouth slightly open before it snaps shut, his eyebrows knitting together. “I’m confused.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

“You asked to come here⁠—”

“And you said yes. Guess we both changed our minds. Now, are you going to drive me home or am I going to walk?”