Page 25 of Ace My Heart

“I wonder how long she’s wanted to usethatline!” I gasped. Brad smiled, but I could see the concern in his eyes. I sobered up a bit.

“Pete Levine?” he asked. I could hear a hint of some emotion in his voice, but I couldn’t quite place it. I flushed.

“It was just a bit of harmless fun. He’s a nice guy,” I replied.

Brad rolled his eyes. “Oh, he sounds delightful – he won’t even admit to spending the night with you!”

I flinched, Brad’s words hitting me like a slap.

“Mel … you just …” Brad moved closer, the anger on his face softening. He reached up and stroked my cheek with his thumb, staring down at me. I met his gaze for a moment before looking away – his grey eyes were too intense for me.

My phone rang, thankfully distracting both of us. I hopped over to where I had dumped it on the table the night before and answered.

“Melanie! Why didn’t you call to tell me you were home?” my mother’s shrill voice demanded. I held the receiver away from my ear. Brad could hear the screeching too. I winced and he grimaced.

“I got home really late last night, Mum,” I replied. “You know I was just about to call you.” I crossed my fingers behind my back to excuse the little white lie.

“Mrs Rodriguez down at the newsagents said she saw a police car outside your building just a moment ago. You’re caught up in this whole Steve Herbert thing, aren’t you?”

I bit my lip, nostrils flaring as I got my emotions under control. “What Steve Herbert thing, Mum? Oh, you mean that my tennis coach was …” I cleared my throat.“Murdered. That is what you mean, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s what I mean. I’m worried about you! Are you in any trouble?”

I sighed. There was no use in trying to make my mother understand.

“No more than usual, Mum,” I mumbled.

“I think you should go to confession, it’ll make you feel better.”

“I’ll see if I can fit it in somewhere,” I lied.

“I’ll let Father Shannon know to expect you.”

Yeah, right. Like he hadn’t heardthatone a thousand times before.

“Okay, Mum. Bye.” I hung up before she had a chance to say anything else.

“Mel, I’ve got to get going,” Brad said apologetically. “I’ve got a meeting at Uni at twelve, I just wanted to drop by and see how you were holding up. Oh, and to give you this. Sorry, it’s probably cold now.” He handed me the lukewarm coffee.

I smiled gratefully as I took a sip. “It’s sweet and caffeinated. That’s ninety-nine percent perfect, I’d say. Thanks Brad.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked tentatively. I pressed my lips together, nodding.

“It was a bit rough last night, but … coffee helps!” I attempted chipper. I think I almost pulled it off. “Do you have time to drop me off at Joel’s house?” I asked, slipping my unbandaged foot into a flat sandal. I looked up at him to see him nodding.

“Time to stop by the florist on the way?”

Another nod. I chucked my wallet, keys and phone into my bag and shuffled my way to the door.

Armed with a bunch of David Austin roses, we approached the Herbert mansion. The number of cars parked out the front was insane. My shock rapidly turned to disgust when I realised they belonged to the photographers and camera crews milling on the pavement. Luckily, the house was completely private from the road, with an eight-foot fence and solid timber gate.

Brad pulled up by the gate and put his window down to punch in the code I muttered as quickly and discreetly as possible. Cameras went off and my name was shouted as the vultures noticed me in the car.

And then we were in, the gate closing behind us. Thankfully the media circus had the sense not to trespass.

Brad pulled the car up at the front door. I brushed my lips very briefly across his cheek as I opened the door.

He smiled sadly at me. “Tell Mrs Herbert I’m thinking of her,” he said as I clambered out of the car.

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