Page 72 of The Rest is History
‘Jesus.’ He blinks. ‘That’s horrific. Does she work?’
‘She does. She’s a physio, but it’s not really enough. And Olive’s been having problems at school for ages, in terms of being bullied and not being able to keep up in lessons. Grace and Jake had her on the waitlist for Woodland House, but he scarpered before the place became available.’
‘And then there weren’t enough funds to cover the fees,’ he supplies.
‘Exactly. But honestly, it wasn’t an option to turn the place down. Grace and I talked it over and over, and we knew we had no choice but to cobble the money together any which way.’
‘So you’ve been funding your niece’s schooling.’ He shakes his head and stares at me as if he can’t believe what’s in front of him. ‘You’re funnelling your salary into school fees for someone who’s not even your kid.’
I want to make him understand, because he clearly doesn’t. ‘It’s not like that. Grace is mytwin. She’s like one half of me. We’ve always been so close. So, of course, when she gave birth to Olive, you can imagine how much that affected me. It might sound weird, but it’s like she’s my own daughter. That’s how much I love her, anyway. Just like I imagine I’d do anythingfor my own child, I’d do anything for Olive. Especially if it has the power to completely change her life, which, by the way, it’s already starting to do. Woodland House isthatgood.
‘So we came up with a plan. They had to downsize anyway, once the house got sold and the assets divvied up. And my salary at St Michael’s was pretty crap. We thought if we could live together, it would save a lot of money, and also, my sister was really struggling. I mean, she was grieving for her marriage and she felt so sick with guilt that she’d ruined everything for Olive. Which is silly.
‘But I wanted to be with her—with both of them, really. I felt so helpless stuck up in London when their lives were going up in flames. So I applied for the job at Hampton Park, which I knew would help with the school fees, and I had a very sexy and very hostile interviewer who deigned to give me a chance, and…’ I trail off.
He shoots me what is quickly becoming my most favourite Charlie smile: sexy with a lethal shot of emotion.
‘And the rest is history.’
CHAPTER 27
Elodie
Ihave a bigger question for Charlie. One I need to ask him so badly that’s scorching a hole in my heart. I hold it back for when it’s dark, and I’m lying in his arms in his cloud of a bed. The light is dim enough to encourage confidences but bright enough for me to drink in his features.
We’re both sated after Round Three.
He pinned me down against his pillows and moved inside me in a way that was feverish and intimate and transcendent. That made my breath still in my lungs. Now he’s next to me as we regain our wits, his arm around me and his leg flung over me.
‘God,’ he groans into the crook of my neck. ‘It’s like the dam has well and truly burst. I have absolutely no clue how I’ve managed to share an office with you all these months and not be inside you the whole fucking time.’
I have my opening.
‘About that.’
‘The answer’s yes. We can definitely lock Zara out of the office and do this on Monday. Or go back to our romantic stationery cupboard.’
I roll into him and nudge his nose with mine. ‘You said some things earlier that suggested you may have been… interested. For some time.’
‘Yes.’ His voice is low but open. Trusting. His fingers brush the skin of my back.
‘Well… why didn’t you try something? I mean, I know it’s always tricky as colleagues. But you could have at least been a bit friendly.’ I clear my throat. The rejection I feel over months of Charlie ignoring me and talking down to me and seemingly disapproving of me still stings. ‘We could have been mates and taken it from there.’
He’s silent for such a long moment that I start mentally backtracking. Regretting my honesty.
But no.
He deserves to be called out for his behaviour.
He didn’t need to give me such a rough ride this academic year.
He pulls his arm out from under me and I have a brief, horrible feeling that he’s pulling away fully, but he reaches behind him and rotates the dimmer switch, brightening the room enough that we can see each other more clearly. He props himself up on one elbow, gazing down at me.
‘It was a deliberate strategy, distancing myself from you.’ He runs a couple of fingers along my collarbone and hesitates before continuing. ‘I hope I don’t freak you out, but you should know I’ve been completely infatuated with you since my very first glimpse of you.’ He swallows. ‘There are other words I could use to tell you how I feel—stronger words—but I really don’t want you running out that door just yet. So I’ll protect my heart for a little while longer, if that’s okay.’
Oh my God. Oh myGod.I lie there and stare up at him, disbelief and overwhelm and joy battling it out in my heart. I know what this man can mean to me if I let him. What he alreadymeans to me. And it’s somuchI feel like I could burst with it. Especially after having him inside my body twice this evening. Experiencing the connection, the sense of rightness, when we’re as close as we can be.
I’ve had feelings for him for so long, but over these past few weeks they’ve morphed from a physical attraction and a perverse fascination with him (he’s definitely had thetreat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keenthing working for him) to far more. To desperate, burning hunger for his body (hello, Hampton Court hookup) and an addiction tohim. When he lets me in.
