Page 21 of Your Second Chance
I didn’t press further. Instead, I stood there, waiting, hoping she’d let me in. Because, for whatever reason, I’d brought her here, and I wasn’t about to let her walk away from it.
“This is wrong. I didn’t want to come out here. You should have asked fucking permission first.”
She walked toward me, angrily stomping her boots, and grabbed her bag before she headed to the guest house. I followed a few paces behind, watching as she shoved the door open with more force than necessary and disappeared inside. The door creaked as it swung back, and I hesitated, standing outside.
This wasn’t exactly how I imagined this would go.
I gave her a second before I followed her inside. Her bag was on the floor as she walked around. The guesthouse was a proper Cotswolds gem, all creamy stone walls and low-beamed ceilings that made you feel like you’d stepped back a century or two. The wide-planked floors creaked gently underfoot. A cozy little fireplace sat at the heart of the room, its iron grate framing a neatly stacked pile of logs.
The furniture was a charming mismatch—a weathered leather settee with cushions that had seen better days, a faded floral armchair tucked near the hearth, and a sturdy wooden coffee table with faint scratches and the unmistakable patina of age.
In the corner, the kitchen boasted sage-green cabinets, a farmhouse sink with a slightly chipped edge.
Nova wandered through the space, her fingertips grazing the back of the settee as she moved. She paused near the fireplace, her back to me, framed by the warm glow of the room.
“It’s nice, but I’m still mad I’m here.”
I chuckled. “Again, I’d expect nothing less.”
She whipped around to face me. “Tell me something inappropriate. Hurry before I start to get uncomfortable.”
I thought about it for a moment. I wasn’t going to go the sexual route again because that’d be a surefire way to send her running.
“I miss playing rugby. I stopped because of my shoulder, but I hate being a coach. I want to play.”
“I’m sorry,” she said earnestly, her eyes meeting mine.
I shrugged, trying to brush it off as I dropped my bag next to hers. “Your stomach’s growling,” I pointed out, tilting my head toward her.
She shrugged too, her lips quirking up faintly. “What else is new?”
I couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, shaking my head. She had this way of disarming me without even trying.
Walking into the kitchen, I pulled open the fridge door, only to be greeted with... nothing. Of course. It had been weeks since I’d been here, and I doubted anyone had stocked it.
“I’m going to walk over to see if my mum’s home.” I closed the fridge and glanced back at her. “And steal some of their food. I’ll be back.”
There was a long pause before she finally spoke. “Can I come with you?”
I hesitated, flattening my lips into a straight line. “If they’re home, you might run into?—”
“It’s fine.” She waved me off. “I guess our friendship just went to a new level, and we’re at the meeting-the-parents moment.”
“Friendship?” I clutched my chest dramatically, pretending to be wounded. “We’re friends?”
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she bumped my shoulder on her way past me. “You kind of forced me to be when you kidnapped me and dragged me here.”
She stopped at the door, hesitating for a second before glancing back at me. “Well, are you coming?”
I stared at her, my chest tightening in a way I couldn’t explain.
Fuck me. She was about to meet my parents.
Andfuck, I had it bad for her.
“Oh my god,” she moaned, biting into an apple she’d snagged from the counter. Her eyes widened as she chewed. “This is the best apple ever,” she mumbled through muffled bites, juice dribbling down her chin.
I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at her enthusiasm. “You act like you’ve never had fruit before.”
