Page 34 of Commitment Issues
Chapter Fifteen
Freddie
For the rest of the evening Gavin keeps his distance, but I’m aware of him, like an itch I can’t quite scratch.
It’s impossible to miss the curious glances he throws my way and at one point I even waved at him but he only answered with a stiff smile before he turned away. I don’t care for myself, he’s as shallow as a dried-up puddle, and I’m sure I can handle him. For the life of me, I can’t see what Elliot ever saw in him. And then I remember.
Good times, Elliot said, there’d been good times, before it all went to shit. My stomach turns over. I know all about that. The good times, and then the — not good times. A shiver runs through me, and I flex my shoulders as though to shrug off the memories scratching to get through. As for Gavin, as far as I’m concerned, Elliot had a lucky escape when the guy walked out.
Marcus also stays away. I don’t have to be nice to Gavin, in fact it’s my God given duty to dig at him and hack him off, but Marcus is a different matter. It’s the guy’s wedding I’m here for, and I owe it to Elliot to behave, but it’s difficult not to bite when he’s baring his teeth at me.
The buffet table, to my eternal disappointment, doesn’t include cocktail sausages or pineapple chunks snuggled up with rubbery cheese. We’re tucking in when a couple of guys descend on us, full of smiles and, from their florid faces, probably one too many neon cocktails. Elliot introduces me but their names go straight over my head. He’s clearly pleased to see them, and all three plunge into conversation about subjects and people I know nothing about. In other words, Elliot’s safe. With a brief squeeze of his arm, I tell him I’m going to have a wander around.
Slipping away from the flickering lights around the pool, I head in the direction of the beach. The hubbub of voices grows fainter, then disappears, and my way’s lit only by the moon.
I take my shoes off and sigh, scrunching my toes in the rough sand. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the salt-sharp air. It’s been too long since I heard the lap of waves, and I miss it. Growing up in a small community on the Suffolk coast, the sea’s in my DNA, despite what I’d said to Gavin earlier. But that sea’s a cold and wild one, where angry waves smash onto a shingle beach, a world away from where I am now, where the waves are soft and the water doesn’t freeze the blood.
I set off along the beach, walking at the water’s edge where the sand’s damp and compacted. My brain’s whirring. How am I going to last the next few days? Now I’ve had the displeasure of meeting Gavin, I’m sure I can handle anything he’ll throw at me. But, it’s not Gavin who’s the problem, it’s Elliot.
Elliot, who pushes all my buttons.
Elliot, who’s my walking, talking, breathing fantasy.
Elliot, who’s thoughtful and considerate.
Elliot, who listens to me, is interested, and who treats me with respect.
Elliot, who’ll be sleeping in the room next to me, buff naked and with those wonderful abs I just know are rippling beneath his shirt.
Okay, I don’t know for sure about the buff naked bit, but a boy can dream.
And a dream is all it’ll be, because sleeping with my kind of temporary employer is definitely not in the job description. Not that he’s shown the slightest interest in inserting said clause, but that’s got to be a good thing I suppose. I like Elliot, a lot, but I don’t want to like himtoomuch. I liked a man like him too much before, and the only thing it got me was a first class ticket to Broken Heartsville. And a trip to the clap clinic.
I carry on walking, the only sounds the sigh of the sea and the rustle of the light breeze in the pine trees fringing the beach. And the heavy snort of breath bearing down on me from behind.
Swinging round, my heart going nineteen to the dozen, a huge, dark shape looms down on me. All my muscles quiver as fight or flight takes hold, and I get ready to run.
“Freddie?” Andrew’s deep voice booms in the darkness. “I’m sorry, did I give you a fright?”
“Just a bit.” I never knew it was possible for a grown man to squeak, but I’ve just proved that theory wrong.
“Sorry about that,” he says, coming closer. “I saw you leave, and guessed where you were going. I’ll join you.”
“Yes, please do.”
Andrew hasn’t asked, he’s told me, as he falls in next to me.
My heart hasn’t calmed down, it’s revved up. He’s going to tell me to leave, that I’m not welcome, that I’ve insulted his fiancé… I’ve been with the wedding party for no more than a couple or so hours and I’ve fallen at the first hurdle, letting Elliot down and making a fool of both him and myself. I suck in a breath because I need to say something, but he beats me to it.
“I feel I have to apologise for Marcus’ behaviour, earlier. He’s a good and loyal friend to Gavin, but I’m a good friend of Elliot’s, and as you’re with him, I expect you to be made welcome.”
“What? I mean, pardon?”
I stop dead and stare, open mouthed, at the man who towers above me. He really can just squash me like a fly if he chooses to, but instead he’s smiling. If I can see his smile, he can see my slack, village idiot gawp, and I snap my mouth closed.
“I’ve spoken to Marcus, and he realises he was out of order.”
But not enough to make a proper apology. It’s what I want to say, but don’t.
