Chapter 12

12

J ayda had made a mistake bringing Brock to the quadrangle and she knew it when he made a grand show of patting his pocket where his phone was and fishing it out to glance at the screen before blurting, ‘I have to go. Urgent job.’

She knew the second he admitted he liked being here with her that he’d use some lame excuse to bolt. The moment the words tripped from his lips she glimpsed wariness warring with fear in his eyes. He’d said too much. He’d admitted to enjoying her company. Flings didn’t do that.

She’d been an idiot. Because after spending an amazing twelve hours together she’d done what she’d always done her entire life.

Put too much faith in people.

‘Of course you have to go,’ she said, keeping her tone deliberately cool. ‘Go do what you have to do.’

He hesitated, sliding the phone back into his pocket but unable to meet her eyes. ‘Breakfast was great. Thanks.’

‘It was your shout.’ She shrugged, as if it meant little, when wanting to have breakfast here at dawn had been a silly, whimsical notion from a well-sated woman. A woman so bamboozled by Brock that she would’ve done or said anything to prolong their time together.

Silly, considering they’d already agreed to hook up for sex regularly over the next two weeks, but making a decision to keep things casual and staying awake all damn night because he was insatiable and incredibly skilled…well, she’d been understandably flustered.

He ducked down to whisper in her ear, ‘Seemed only fair, considering I made you shout all night.’

Heat flushed her skin and she gritted her teeth against the urge to lean into him. If she did that, she’d never let him go.

‘What do you want me to do? Announce to the quadrangle you’re a brilliant lover?’

He laughed at her sarcasm and it dissipated some of the tension between them. His familiarity rattled her, that they’d only reconnected last night through phenomenal sex but he seemed to know her better than she knew herself when it came to pleasure. He knew her sensitive spots—the backs of her knees, the dip in her hip, the juncture between her collarbones—as if he’d committed them to memory.

But it was more than remembering those spots and she knew it. It was as if he could really see her and he liked what he saw.

Maybe that was what made the sex so special, that he looked at her as if she were a goddess to be worshipped. His adoration of her body lowered her inhibitions and helped her to enjoy sex in a way she’d never thought possible.

‘I’m comfortable with my performance, but if you feel the need to announce my vindication to the world, go right ahead.’

He straightened and she instantly missed his warmth. An awkward silence stretched between them, making her wish she hadn’t dredged up nostalgic memories by inviting him to eat here.

His admission about liking her in the past floored her and it made her wonder: if they’d hooked up in uni, would it have been different between them?

‘Can I ask you something?’

The shutters descended as he carefully blanked his expression. ‘Yeah, but then I really have to go.’

Of course he did. Admitting they had a connection beyond physical had scared the crap out of him. In which case, what she had to ask would really push him over the edge.

‘If we’d hooked up at uni, do you think we would’ve been different?’

His brows drew together in a frown. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean personally.’ She shrugged. ‘Professionally we’d have been the same. I would’ve succumbed to my parents’ cajoling and joined them in their business after my degree, you would’ve carved an impressive niche in IT. But would we have had anything in common beyond the sex? I mean, I don’t know anything about you. Where you’re from. What your parents do. Do you have any siblings—’

‘I don’t believe in dredging up the past or wasting time discussing what-ifs.’ He touched her arm briefly before letting his hand fall. ‘Now I have to run.’

He dropped a quick peck on her cheek. ‘I’ll be in touch regarding a time for our business meeting this afternoon.’

She watched him stride across the quadrangle, long steps that were almost a half-run, as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. She might have agreed to a fling but she still didn’t know anything about him and by the way he bolted when she’d asked he wanted to keep it that way.

Brock had made it perfectly clear. He didn’t want to develop anything meaningful beyond them screwing. So she had to suck it up and focus on getting what she wanted out of this: her online charity software fool-proofed, with the added bonus of scorching sex at night. Sounded simple enough.

But if her parents’ treachery had taught her anything, it was not to lie to herself. And she knew that continuing to see Brock, to spend time with him, would only reveal what she already knew: that in less than twenty-four hours she might have fallen for him a little.

A stupid notion that her teenage self might’ve believed in, but she was older and wiser now. She didn’t believe in fairytales or love at first sight or any of that fanciful nonsense. But Brock made her feel good in a way she never had and she’d be an idiot not to crave more.

Sighing, she sat back down on the bench, picked up her coffee cup, and took a sip. The latte had cooled but considering she hadn’t had any sleep she needed the caffeine hit.

A few students straggled into the quadrangle, most of them headed to Merv’s truck. She’d been mortified initially when he’d remembered her regular order from a decade ago, knowing Brock would pick up on it being calorie conscious.

But her mortification had given way to something else with Brock by her side: confidence. He knew her body-shaming secrets and he didn’t judge her for them. In fact, he’d only ever reiterated how attractive he found her and set about proving it last night.

Of course, that could be the words and actions of a horny guy wanting to get some, but she didn’t think so. He was a better man than that. She might not know a lot about him, but she knew that much.

She couldn’t believe he’d wanted her during those four years in uni and had never made a move. That alone told her he wouldn’t mess with her when he finally had the chance.

Yeah, being with Brock made her feel good. It gave her confidence to be herself and she couldn’t say that about anybody else in her life.

Sure, she had friends. Girls from her private school she kept in touch with, mainly on social media, and a few people from uni. But once they learned she couldn’t use her influence in financial circles because she worked for her parents’ charity, they didn’t seem too interested in maintaining a friendship.

Ironic, that the one person who hadn’t been impressed by her wealth back then was Brock. He’d bought his own drinks at the pub if they went out in a large group and never hung around the cafeteria where she’d frequently shouted fruit salads for the crew in her year. She’d known nothing about him back then for the simple reason she hadn’t wanted to know. He’d been too smart, too aloof, too hot, for her.

Not much had changed. A guy with his intelligence and his money could have any woman he wanted. And for the short term, that woman was her. She wanted it that way.

So why did it hurt so much that though he was sticking around for six weeks he was more than happy to end this thing between them in two?

She took several gulps of coffee to ease the lump of emotion lodged in her throat. It didn’t take much for her insecurities to override her common sense.

Was she not thin enough?

Was she not smart enough?

Was she not… enough?

Her parents had drummed that into her for years and it would probably take a lifetime to get over it.

But for now, she had more important things to worry about. Like getting started on her website so Brock could look over the software and ensure it was foolproof.

Taking control of her life meant honouring Sasha’s memory the right way, of fostering her sister’s dream, of proving to herself that while Sasha may be gone their bond could never be broken.

She had to do this right.