Chapter 7

Rachel was avoiding Isla.

Between the realization that she was probably in love with her best friend, and the fact that the day in Brighton had brought home just how much she disliked living in London, Rachel's nice, orderly life had turned upside down.

She thought she knew herself pretty well.

Apparently not.

So she'd rabbit holed into research for the Littles' Market, and put her WhatsApp messages on mute so that she didn't have to think about it. Or think about Isla.

But when a sharp rat-a-tat-tat came from her front door, she realized that she couldn't hide any longer. It was Isla's knock; Rachel had heard it enough times to be able to memorize the pattern of the taps, and Isla did have a very distinctive knock. It always sounded so purposeful.

Shit. She was going to have to open the door. Because she knew Isla, and there was no way that Isla was going to go anywhere.

Taking a moment to straighten her top, Rachel caught herself checking how she looked in her bedroom mirror, when she never usually bothered. But things were different now. Maybe. Maybe they'd be just the same as they always were.

Pulling herself together, she walked over to her front door and opened it.

It was only six o'clock, which meant that the summer sun hadn't set yet, and it caught the highlights in Isla's hair, making them glint. She was flushed, her cheeks stained pink, and Rachel noticed that the dark eyeliner that framed her eyes was slightly smudged. Isla blinked and the green of her eyes looked as lush as the trees out on the road.

Fuck.

She really was in love with her best friend.

"Do you want to come in?" Rachel's voice had never sounded so stilted. She almost winced at the sound of it, and the awkwardness had clearly registered with Isla, because there was something akin to pain in her face.

Rachel shook herself mentally. She could do this. Nothing had changed. This was Isla. "Stop standing there like a dodo and come in." Reaching out, she took Isla's hand, and the other woman flinched. It was a tiny movement, so small that if Rachel hadn't been looking for it, she'd have missed it.

Dropping her hand, she walked down the narrow corridor to her living room. As she did, the beating of her heart pounded in her ears, amplifying with each step. Rach could taste the panic in her throat. This was terrifying. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong, and it was all her fault. She shouldn't have disappeared like that, she should have just spoken to Isla, but how could she speak to Isla when…

Arms came around her shoulders, holding her. Isla didn't press against her, didn't pull Rachel back into her, she just stood and held Rachel. "You're panicking," she said.

"You flinched," said Rachel and the statement felt large and threatening in the small flat.

"I did," said Isla. "I've upset you, and I think I know what it's about, but I…" Her voice trailed off.

Rach turned to look at the blond curiously. "What do you think it's about?"

Isla let go, abruptly, and stalked into the living room, sitting down on the couch with a thump. "This is hard for me, Rach."

All thoughts of her own worries flew from her mind. She rushed over, and sat, reaching to take Isla's hands and sighing with relief when no flinch accompanied her touch. "You're my best friend, Isla. No matter what, I got you." And she wasn't lying. She'd do anything for Isla: walk through fire; carve out her soul; listen to a strike-by-strike analysis of more women's soccer teams than she'd ever known existed. Rachel loved Isla, but she was her friend too, and that was what Isla needed right now.

"I mean, it's been so many years, and I always assumed that you didn't know. And it hasn't impacted our friendship in anyway—I want to make sure you know that, first and foremost. Our friendship has meant everything to me and that will never change."

This was sounding ominous. And Rachel still had absolutely no idea what was going on.

"But I do understand that if you've only just found out, then maybe you need some space, need to work out what this means for our friendship. But I promise you, I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable, and whatever you want, I'll do."

Okay. That cleared up absolutely nothing. What on earth was Isla talking about? But before Rachel could ask, Isla sighed and then looked at her. Really looked at her.

"I'm sorry, Rach. I never meant to fall in love with you."