Page 15 of Blindsided By You

“You reckon?” I say, cautious optimism pushing past my ever-present clawing doubt.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. That’s two votes for me and none for my scathing inner voice. “But go easy. Take it quietly,” he suggests. “Not because of her father, though.”

“Believe me, this is also my sister’s friend here. I have no choice but to do otherwise.”

“Yeah, that’s another angle to consider. But no, that’s not it either. There’s some history there. Jenna comes with a ‘handle with care’ label.”

I have no idea what the fuck he means by that.

“She was engaged. Way back, before she joined the staff at the Highlanders. The guy bailed on her, right before the wedding. I thought Rache would have told you, man. She would have been lining up as chief bridesmaid for sure.”

I feel stupid. Ignorant. Has Rachel ever mentioned anything about Jenna to me? Or did she not bother, thinking it wasn’t relevant? Or was I too caught up in myself, and zoned out while she prattled on, as I tended to do?Should have paid more attention, Geordie. I chide myself.

“Nah,” I say, feeling like a dick. “Rachel and I didn’t talk much for a while there.” Like for about two years. “Nothing bad,” I add. “When I was down in Brunei. Kind of dropped off the earth a bit.”

Long stints on a rig and shore time in Bangkok, I’d immersed myself in booze and pretty girls who didn’t care too much about whether a guy could string a sentence together, just whether he had the money to pay. I’m not proud of the way Iso easily slipped into the mould of the average young rig worker, but in my defence I was twenty-two, a kid with more money in my pocket than I’d ever expected to see in a lifetime, especially for a person with my limitations. I don’t want to dwell on it, shame rising in me even now.

“Fuck, I had no idea. He must have been a real dickhead.”

“Apparently,” Connor says. “So don’t you be one, OK?” He cuffs me across the head.

“Believe me,” I say, “if—and I still think it’s a very big if—she has the slightest interest in me, I will be goingverycarefully. Otherwise, Razor and Rachel will have to fight it out to see who gets the satisfaction of killing me slowly.”

There’s the pad of large feet in the passageway, and Kyle lopes in, ducking his head to clear the door.

“Evening, gents.” He dumps a gear bag with a heavy thud, unaware of his interruption. Thankfully, even Nathan understands it’s time for this conversation to end.

My brain is racing a million miles an hour after Connor’s revelation. As the rest of the team pour in from their jobs, elbowing each other and talking shit, and the changing room fills with their banter and the clatter of studs on concrete, I sit, physically a still point in the swirl of activity, but mentally a spinning tornado of hope and fear, optimism and doubt.

Despite what my mates might think, I’m sure this thing I’ve got for Jenna is more than a sexual attraction. OK, I’ll admit there’s plenty of that. She’s so fucking beautiful. My brain overloads every time it recalls the image of her standing on the stairs, that satin skin peeking from the v of a green shiny top offering a tantalising hint of rounded breasts framing a sweet slash of cleavage; and tight jeansflowing over her curves, leaving little to the imagination. Naked, she’d be a goddess.

But I’ve grown beyond only wanting attractive outer packaging. Somehow between two brief conversations on Saturday night, and the avalanche of childhood memories roaring down, burying me in thoughts of every other conversation we’ve ever had, an obsessive need to really know Jenna—the person, the woman—has taken hold.

Like all young men, once I was perfectly happy with a pretty girl. Now I need more. Not just a girl. Not just a bit of fun. I want a woman who has layers and depths to explore. Someone who I’m secure enough with to reveal my own feelings, hopes, dreams—even my insecurities, of which there are many.

This new self-awareness is frightening. Perhaps it’s because I’ve spent most of my time in a bloke’s world up till now. Most men don’t dwell on these things. They definitely don’t discuss them. And they sure as hell don’t own up to feeling this way. I’ve toyed with the idea of bringing it up with Nathan. He’s got far greater experience of relationships than I have, even though his most significant one imploded. Still, he might be a good sounding board.

“Geordie,” Kyle barks. “Move your arse. Not the time to be taking a moment.”

Five-thirty on the dot and Razor has no tolerance for lateness.

I stand and move mechanically, the harsh clash of my studs on the floor a jarring echo in the now empty room. Meanwhile, in my head, my mind has calmed. The decision to talk to Nathan some more offers a way forward, while the need to focus on the familiar routines of practice offers a reprieve from this onslaught of new and disturbing emotions. I jog out into the sanctuary of the floodlit field.

Chapter 8

JENNA

“Whitechocolatemocha?”Iinhale the aromatic steam with an appraising sniff. This has become our daily game. Skylar arrives with coffee and I try to guess which decadent version of my compulsory morning caffeine hit she’s chosen to start my day.

“No way. You’re getting good, Jenna. Three out of four this week,” she giggles.

“You’re the best, Skylar.” I take an appreciative sip and let out a small hum of pleasure at the sweet warmth on my tongue. “WhatdidI do before you?”

Her eyes dance in delight, and the rosebud pink of her cheeks blooms a little brighter at my praise. It’s not a hollow compliment. She’s earned it—and not just for her intuitive grasp of my need for coffee to kick start the day, and the creative way she fills it.

Every morning without fail, Skylar is here at my makeshift office in the summerhouse by nine, patient and uncomplaining no matter what menial task I throw at her. This young woman has every bit of the potential she recognises in herself and more. Today I’ve made a decision that will bind her immediate future to mine.

“So, before you start on drafting those Instagram posts for Quinn, take a look at this.”

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