Page 15 of Chasing Blue
Her eyes scan the room, the silence loaded as I wait for her to continue. I watch her chest move as she takes another deep breath in through her nose, releasing it slowly.
“You were my ‘one’, Jack.” Her eyes shine when they hit mine; the emotion in her voice reflected in them.
“Your one?” I question, my own voice sounding croaky.
“My one. The one I’ve set all other men by. I know what we had was still very new, but you almost destroyed me. You didn’t just break my heart, you ruined it, and it took me a long while to get over you.” She gives a small laugh but doesn’t look away as she admits, “A little piece of my heart has never fully recovered.”
I’m hit with a myriad of emotions at her honesty.
“Blue,” I whisper. It’s all I’ve got.
She gives another of her little shrugs along with a half-smile and says, “A little piece of my heart has remained yours for almost eighteen years.”
Well fuck!
CHAPTER4
Scarlett.
I knowit was only a short time we were together, and itwasaverylong time ago, but I donotremember Jack Cole being such a cuddler. After shocking the shit out of me by pulling me into him and holding me there as we stood at the bar, I’m even more surprised when he walks me to my car and does it again.
“I know I’ve said it already, but it really is good to see you, Blue.”
Clutching my bag in one hand and with the other squashed between us, I stand with the side of my face resting against his chest. With the rain beating down on us, I breathe him in and enjoy the moment. A moment I used to dream about. A moment I eventually gave up on ever happening, along with ever seeing this man again. But here we are, and now I have decisions to make.
I stare out to the waves crashing against the beach, the water barely visible through the low cloud. The weather pretty much sums up the turmoil I’m feeling inside.
I’m a strong, confident, independent woman. I’ve never had a relationship that lasted more than a few months, and I’ve never met anyone who has made me want to change, slow down, or put them before my career. I think I’ve felt the first flutter of love a couple of times, or I was at least heading that way. Then, exactly like the situation with Matt right now, they all do something that doesn’t quite work for me, and I find it easy to end things, move on, and forget about them, or I feel them pulling away, and I do nothing to stop them.
During all of those times, Jack has always been there. That ‘one’, the one I never forgot, the one I always wondered about.
I knowwhyhe left such a mark on my heart, scarred it so badly, and now I need to decide whether or not I tell him. The wounded organ in question kicks at my chest as the memories hit me.
“I need to go,” I tell him as panic sets in and I pull away. “I’ll get a mood board put together for each of the areas, and either Zoe or I will be in touch to make an appointment to catch up.”
I wave my bag containing my keys in front of my car door, and Jack reaches around me to open it as the beep sounds to indicate it’s unlocked.
I throw the bags containing my laptop, notes, and swatches across the centre console to the passenger side. When I straighten and turn to say goodbye, he’s right behind me. Once again, I find myself pressed against him. He doesn’t step away, showing zero respect for my personal space . . . which I both love and hate.
“Who’s Zoe?” he asks while looking down at me.
I swallow and instantly hate myself for making it so very obvious that he affects me.
“My business partner.”
He nods, his nose and forehead brushing against me due to his closeness.
“Ah yeah, right.”
Everything suddenly feels awkward, and I know I need to get away from him.
“Okay then, I’ve gotta go. I need to get back to the office; I’ve got other clients to see,” I rush out.
I slide as elegantly as I can into my car, but again, when I turn, he’s right there—one hand resting on the roof, one on the open door as he leans in.
“Nice ride, the business must be doing well.”
I keep staring forward as I push the ignition and the engine purrs. The wipers clear my screen, and I trace their movements while attempting to formulate a response. Do I need to? It wasn’t really a question, was it? I’m a mess. Eighteen years and I’m back to being the wreck I was when everything unfolded the way it did.
