Page 34 of All Summer Long

Alice tapped on the open kitchen door of the manor that evening, his t-shirt in her hands.

‘Hey you,’ he said, coming through from the hallway.

‘Hazel came by to drop this off for you earlier.’ She placed his shirt on the kitchen table. ‘You’re officially her hero after last night.’

‘And there was me thinking you were going to say I was officially your hero. How’s that damn bird doing?’ he asked, and a tiny smile tipped one side of his mouth. Alice felt about thirteen, all fingers, thumbs and butterflies.

‘Fine, by all accounts. Although he did say something odd to Hazel this morning, along the lines of “interrupt me again and I’ll wring your scrawny neck”,’ she said. ‘Can’t imagine where he’s had that from.’

‘He’s lucky he’s still alive,’ Robinson laughed. ‘Drink to celebrate the sunshine?’

He made it sound so easy and uncomplicated, but a few glasses of wine had made last night very complicated indeed. Or had it? Was there anything to feel so conflicted about?

He grabbed a couple of beers and led the way outside to the bench by the back door.

‘Your weather seems to have finally decided that it’s summer,’ he said, turning his face up to the low evening sunshine. The skyline had that pretty pink and orange swirl that promises a glowing sunset, turning Robinson’s eyes into crystal-green rock pools. Did they contain secrets waiting to be fished out? She was pretty sure they did, and not at all sure she should dip her net.

‘We should talk about last night,’ he said, straight off the bat. Alice took a drink and swallowed hard.

‘That was just so American,’ she laughed lightly, taken aback. ‘Straight from talking about the weather to talking about sex. Slow down there, cowboy.’

He grinned and shook his head, looking away with a laugh.

‘Right. Noted. More weather chat required, English girl?’ He waved his hand in the direction of the tree line. ‘Those low hangin’ clouds are kind of … I dunno … pink?’

She nodded, enjoying his attempt to do as she’d asked. ‘They are, Robinson. They are.’

He licked his finger and held it up in the breeze.

‘The signs all suggest another warm one tomorrow,’ he said, then knocked back a good glug of beer. ‘How’m I doin’ over here?’

‘Pretty good,’ she smiled.

‘Good enough to move on and talk about what happened in the Airstream last night?’ he said, angling his body towards hers on the bench. ‘Sorry. I’m not a talk about the weather kind of guy, Alice. I like to shoot straight and speak the truth.’

‘Okay,’ she said, because he was right, and it was kind of refreshing that he wanted to talk about it rather than sweep it under the carpet. ‘You go first.’

‘I was planning on it,’ he said dryly, then finished his beer and put the empty bottle on the ground. ‘Here’s the thing. I came here because I needed somewhere to be. Somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere private, somewhere where I could be alone. I needed that. Still do.’

Alice nodded and held her tongue.

‘I’ve got a lot of shit going on back home, pressures and hassles from all angles and then some,’ he went on, and she waited because he seemed to need to kind of build himself up to talking about what had happened, to set the scene for his own benefit as well as hers. ‘So I come here, and it’s all so fuckin’ ridiculously English, and I find you, Alice McBride, all blonde hair and crazy red boots, and I swear to God you’re a breath of pure fresh mountain air. I like you,’ he paused and took a breath, his arm across the back of the bench, his fingertips drawing circles on the bare skin of her shoulder where her sweater had slid down. ‘I like you so damn much, and being around you makes me feel lighter and easier because you’re so un-fuckin’-complicated compared to just about everything back home in Nashville.’

‘I like you too,’ she said, because she really did like him very much, even though he scared her and she didn’t really know him at all.

He looked at her steadily and then blew out a deep breath. ‘Alice, I can give you nothing. My head is all over the place. I’m a washed-up country singer, and I can’t even do that any more.’

‘Don’t say that,’ she said, rubbing his knee through the softness of his jeans. ‘Give it time.’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t even want to. I’m done with it, Alice. It’s a circus, all that pressure and the cameras and never saying the wrong thing. Where did it get me? Sure, I have money, but that doesn’t keep me warm at night, does it? I have fans, but they’re fickle and will move on to the next guy just as quickly as Lena did.’ He rubbed his jaw. ‘I’m not saying all of this to make you feel bad for me. I don’t need sympathy, I know I have it pretty good compared to most folks. I just need you to see inside my head and know it’s screwed up so that I don’t screw you up right along with me, okay?’

His fingertips had moved from spiralling to massaging, and when he met her eyes she saw the rawness and honesty there. She went to speak, but he laid his finger against her lips to still the words.

‘Let me finish? I need to get this out, okay?’ He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, and then the back of his fingers over her jawbone. ‘Last night was something, wasn’t it?’

She didn’t know if she was supposed to even answer him, it sounded like a rhetorical question.

‘I want you, Alice. I have nothing but my body and my time to give and I want nothing but your body and your time from you in return,’ he said. ‘Does that make me an ass? Because saying it makes me feel like one. Is it selfish and greedy to say that kissing you makes me feel good, and that all I’ve been able to think about since last night is how goddamn amazing you looked in my lap?’

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