Chapter 27

Brock waited outside Jayda’s place, alternating between wanting to punch the windscreen or bang his head against the steering wheel.

He’d hoped to catch her off guard and hadn’t texted her ahead of time. Instead, he’d been the one surprised when he saw some guy leave, but not before touching her on the cheek with a familiarity that made him grit his teeth.

In that instant, he knew he’d made a mistake. The last time a guy had screwed her over, she’d turned to him for comfort. What if she’d done the same now? He’d hurt her badly and maybe she’d turned to some other prick?

His gut roiled with the realisation and he thumped the steering wheel, the lesser of two evils considering he didn’t need a broken hand or a shattered windscreen. His hand ached but he didn’t care as he glared at the dude who sauntered down Jayda’s path as if he’d done it before. Only as he got closer did Brock realise the guy was old enough to be her father.

Her father. There was a vague similarity between the guy and Jayda, something about the shape of their eyes, their cheekbones.

Feeling like a fool, he watched the guy get into an expensive SUV and pull away from the kerb.

He’d jumped to conclusions regarding Jayda. Again. Would he ever learn? Considering what he’d come here to say, he sure as hell hoped so.

Before he could secondguess his decision in coming here, he strode up the path and banged on her door.

‘Leave me alone, Dad,’ she yelled, as Brock glanced at his car, wondering if it was too late to retreat. Considering her tone, she wouldn’t be happy to see him and as the door swung open he was right.

Anger darkened her eyes to indigo, her expression thunderous. It didn’t ease when she locked gazes with him.

‘What the hell do you want?’

‘To see you—’

She slammed the door in his face.

Taken aback, he stood there like an idiot. Okay, he deserved that, but if she thought it would deter him she didn’t know him at all. Which was kind of the point of him turning up unannounced, because she didn’t know him. He hadn’t let her. He’d been an asshole when she’d been nothing but sweet and caring, and in order to fix this he needed to do the one thing he vowed never to do with a woman: open up.

‘I’m going to thump on this door all night if you don’t let me in,’ he said, banging his fist on the door in an annoying rhythm. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang-bang-bang. Long knocks followed by short raps, over and over, until he heard a muttered curse behind the door and it swung open.

‘I’ve got nothing to say to you,’ she snapped, glaring at him with ill-concealed dislike.

‘Good. Because I’ve got plenty to say to you and I need you to listen.’

Glowering, she opened the door wider and let him in, slamming it behind him before stomping into the living room. There was nothing remotely funny about this situation, but he bit back a smile when she hitched up her blue flannel pyjama pants and kept stomping. By the way they kept slipping down they were old, and he hoped once she forgave him he could rip the damn things right off her.

‘Well?’ She stood in front of the fireplace, arms folded, a deep frown denting her brow. ‘What’s so damn important that you had to bust down my door to get me to let you in?’

‘I made a mistake.’

He had so much more to say but she remained still, not a muscle flickering, and his pre-rehearsed speech that he’d gone over and over in the car on the way to her place faded into oblivion.

‘I did too.’ Her upper lip curled in derision. ‘I thought you actually liked me when I was nothing to you but a quick, convenient fuck—’

‘You are so much more to me and you know it.’

The pain in her eyes slayed him. Had he really given her that impression? Considering he emotionally shut down whenever she showed a hint of moving beyond the physical, and he continually pushed her away after they had sex, yeah, he’d done a mighty fine job of treating her like crap.

It shamed him and he hated that he’d despised his father for doing the very same thing to his mother for years. Luckily, he’d figured out he needed to treat his woman right a hell of a lot faster than his father. Jayda was his woman. He’d make sure she understood that if it took all night for him to bumble his way through this apology.

‘What I know is I opened myself up to you and you shut me down.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Just like that.’

She blinked rapidly and glanced away, and Brock hoped she wouldn’t cry. That would undo him completely.

‘You belittled me and made me feel like shit, so if you’ve come here to apologise to make yourself feel better, you can go fuck yourself.’

When she met his eyes again, hers were filled with defiance, and even in those old flannel PJs, with her hair a tangled mess and her skin devoid of makeup, he’d never seen her look more beautiful.

‘I want to apologise for treating you so appallingly, but I also came here to say something else.’

She tilted her chin up. ‘What?’

The words stuck in his throat because he’d never said them before. But as disappointment downturned the mouth he wanted to kiss forever, he knew he had to say something before he lost her.

‘I love you.’ It came out too soft so he cleared his throat and tried again. ‘I love you and I hope you’ll let me prove it to you.’

She stared at him in open-mouthed shock. He took a step forward and she didn’t move, which he took as a good sign considering she glared at him with suspicion.

‘I want a real relationship,’ he said. ‘I want to have brunches with you and go to jazz bars with you and wake up next to you.’

She still didn’t speak and his meagre confidence started to flounder, badly. ‘My freak-out the last time we were together had nothing to do with my folks matchmaking us and everything to do with them.’

Her shoulders relaxed a little and she unfolded her arms, an encouraging sign.

‘Growing up witness to their shitty marriage made me never want to be in a long-term relationship, ever. I can be like my dad sometimes, grumpy and introverted, and I didn’t want to inflict that on any woman who’d end up hating me because of it.’

He huffed out a breath. ‘Then lately, when I’m around you, I’ve found myself feeling possessive, another less than attractive trait I associate with my dad.’

He scrubbed a hand over his face, the tension of confessing his innermost shame making his facial muscles tighten. ‘But I’ve been an idiot. The more time we spent together, the more I found myself wanting to open up to you, to share stuff I’ve bottled up for years. But I didn’t want to dump all my shit on you when you’re so confident and together.’

He grimaced. ‘Besides, you’ve had enough on your plate lately with your folks and the new business and I didn’t want to screw with you when I couldn’t articulate half of what I was feeling. Plus, I’m no good at long-term relationships, I’ve never had one, and you’re so special to me—’

‘Which is why you deliberately pushed me away,’ she finished for him, sounding wondrous and a tad hopeful. ‘If you love me, you should’ve trusted me enough to tell me the truth. All of it. Everything you’ve just said.’

Relieved she’d lost the hostile tone, he continued. ‘That’s what I’m doing now because I don’t want to have any regrets when it comes to the woman I love, even if being tied down terrifies me.’

Her eyes lit as she glanced at his chest. ‘Is that what the seagull tattoos are about? Never being constrained?’

He nodded. ‘At the risk of sounding like a dork, I did it about four months after graduation night, when I couldn’t get you out of my head. I wanted to be free of you so…’ He shrugged, hoping she didn’t think he was a total loser for admitting that.

To his surprise, her mouth quirked into a bashful smile. ‘You got tats, I got a gym membership.’

Confused, he waited for her to continue.

‘Looks like we’ve both got parental issues. For me, I was always second best. My folks adored Sasha and losing her didn’t change that.’ She grimaced and pointed at her waistline. ‘I always had body-image issues and feeling unworthy became second nature in all aspects of my life. So after giving that dickhead my virginity, I wanted to lose weight to feel better about myself.’

She blinked rapidly, the sheen in her eyes almost undoing him. ‘But then I realised you did that. You liked me how I was so I stopped watching scales and going to the gym and tried to be happy with the way I was.’

‘You’re always beautiful to me,’ he said, itching to hold her, but he could tell she had more to say.

‘Thanks. Anyway, turns out my dad didn’t deal with Sasha’s death too well and started gambling, ended up embezzling money from the charity fund I managed for them, and Mum helped him cover it up.’

‘Shit, that’s terrible.’

‘It’s all sorted now and he’s getting help, but I wanted to tell you you’re not the only one whose folks screwed them up.’ She made circles at her temple.

He nodded. ‘I’ve come here directly after confronting my folks. I knew if I didn’t I’d never be able to move forward myself and, surprisingly, talking to them helped me understand their dysfunctional marriage.’

‘So you don’t want some skinny-ass chick to parade around in skimpy dresses with no bra?’

The corners of her mouth twitched and he let out a whoosh of relief.

‘I want a luscious, curvaceous woman with amazing tits to parade around in skimpy dresses with no bra, thank you very much.’

She laughed, a purely joyful sound as she launched herself at him. He caught her in his arms, picked her up and swung her around, squeezing her so tight she let out a squeal.

When he stopped and lowered her to the ground, he rested his forehead against hers. ‘I might not be any good at this relationship stuff but I’m willing to learn, with you.’

‘Hey, I’ve never had a real relationship either so what do I know?’ She pressed her lips to his in the softest, sweetest kiss imaginable. ‘We’re good together. Let’s become great together.’

As they kissed he finally got his way to push those awful saggy PJs off her and set about proving exactly how great they were together.

Today, and always.

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