“Can’t complain.” He indicates my empty glass. “Drink?”
My blazing fury gets tackled from the side by the unexpected potential opportunity that’s fallen at my feet. I thought alcohol was my only escape. Maybe I was wrong. I disregard the full bottle I’ve just placed on the table. “Why not?” I say, smiling. “Sauvignon, please.”
“Small? Large?”
“Large.”
Tom heads for the bar and orders while I fight back the stupid part of my fucked-up mind that’s telling me not to do something that I’ll regret. It’s not really that hard to disregard it. My only regret right now is putting myself in an affair. I remind myself that I’m technically still single. I’m technically free as a bird to do what I want, when I want. I’m not the married one. If Jack can have his cake and eat it, then so can I. I look across to the dance floor where Lizzy and Nat are throwing themselves around like the drunken fools that they are, and catch their eyes. When Lizzy grins, and Nat gives me double thumbs-up, I know they’ve clocked Tom. They think I’ve been celibate these past four months. They’ll physically put Tom in bed with me if they have to.
I accept my drink with a smile of thanks as I reacquaint my eyes with Tom. He’s handsome but rugged. His nose has clearly been broken a few times, and he has a tidy scar across his brow bone. His hair is short but fixed, and his neck thick. “How have you been?” I ask, getting the conversation started as he perches on Lizzy’s stool.
“Great, actually. I’ve been in Scotland for the last year at a training academy for kids.”
“Sounds good. But you’re back?”
“It was a year-long program at one of the league clubs. We’re starting one here at Twickenham next month.”
I nod. “So you play rugby, then?”
He laughs. “How’d you guess?”
I shrug and place my glass on the table. “Must be the cauliflower ears.”
“Hey!” He reaches over and lightly punches my jaw. “I wear a head guard.”
I smile coyly. “I’m teasing. Sounds like a great job.”
“It is. What do you do, Annie?” He takes a swig of his pint, grinning. “We didn’t exactly talk much last time I saw you.”
I return his grin, remembering the night well. It involved lots of alcohol and laughs, and ended with very drunken sex. “No, but we did a lot of something else.”
“I tried calling you after.” He watches me closely. “Why did you give me your number if you didn’t plan on taking my calls?”
“Work kind of took over my life.”
“I thought maybe you were involved with someone.”
“No!”
“And are you now?”
I swallow and breathe in deeply. “No,” I say clearly, evenly, and with one hundred percent conviction.
Chapter 19
Don’t ask me what I’m doing because I couldn’t tell you. It’s the story of my life these days. All I know is that I’m in agony inside and I’m hurting all the more because deep down I know I have no right to feel betrayed. My mind is a wild mess of questions. I feel deceived. It’s a crazy claim. Maybe this is karma. Maybe the Fates have decided that Annie Ryan doesn’t get to be happy. She doesn’t get to have what she desperately wants because she lied and cheated to try and get it.
I get out of the cab outside my apartment, Tom following closely behind. He slams the door and it echoes in the night air around us. We had a little moment outside the bar, nothing too much, just a look, but it was enough for him to ask if I wanted some company, and enough for me to say yes. As I walk up the path, I question what I’m doing and what good will come from it. I have no answer. I’m retaliating because I’m hurt beyond comprehension and it’s making me self-destructive. I slip my key into the lock, push the door open, and let Tom follow me in.
“Nice place,” he says, shutting the door behind him. “You been here long?”
“Just a few months,” I reply over my shoulder, making my way to the kitchen. “Tea, coffee, alcohol?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
His answer gives me a moment’s pause as I flick my eyes between the kettle and the wineglasses. Seems stupid that something as simple as a choice of drink could pave the way for the rest of the night. “White okay?” I ask, taking down two glasses.
“Sounds good to me.” He strides over to the double doors that lead onto the courtyard. “I love this,” he says, unlocking the door as I pour us drinks. “I’m on the fifth floor of a high-rise. No outside space.”
I gather up the glasses and follow him into my small garden. “Here.” I hand him a glass and he raises it before taking a sip. “Cheers,” I say in response.
He wanders over to the willow tree and pulls back some of the branches, peeking into the hidden space behind. “This is really cool.”
“It’s my peaceful space,” I say, getting an unexpected replay of Stephanie’s tormenting sounds of pleasure in my head. And then Jack’s growl. They’re playing on loop. Over and over, getting louder each time. I wince, closing my eyes, but I’m interrupted from my inner turmoil when Tom speaks. “You never did tell me what you do.”
“I’m an architect.”
“Nice. Designed anything I might know?”
“Like the Shard or something equally iconic?” I ask on a teasing smile.
Tom laughs. “Now, I know the bloke who designed the Shard was some Italian dude. You’re not Italian, and you are definitely not a dude.” He winks cheekily, prompting me to laugh.
“His name is Renzo Piano. Sadly, I’m nowhere near his league, but maybe one day.” I shrug.
Tom smiles and takes one step forward, closing the distance between us to only a foot or so. I look up at him, finding soft, searching eyes. “I’m hoping I haven’t read this wrong.”
He moves in and I hold my breath, waiting for his lips to meet mine, and when they do, I exhale and relax, accepting his kiss. His lips are soft and tender, his mouth working slowly over mine. My mind empties. It’s a relief. It’s a reprieve. I can’t pass up the opportunity to free myself from the mental chains I’ve locked myself in. Even if it’s only temporarily.
With my wineglass in one hand, I use my free arm to reach up and rest over his broad shoulders, responding to his kiss. My willingness forces the pace up a few notches. I expect this to take me further away from my pain, but I’m proven wrong when my darkness is suddenly hijacked with images of Jack. I try to push his beautiful face to the side, feeling Tom slip my dress from my shoulders, exposing my bra straps. The bra Jack bought for me. I persevere, taking our kiss up another level in the hopes of getting past my momentary lapse in fortitude, but a loud crash brings the moment to a screeching halt and Tom pulls away fast, looking toward the doors.