Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“What about them?”
“About me meeting them.”
I inhale and push some strawberries around the dish, watching them. I’m not looking forward to that. “Let me talk to them.”
“Do they hate me that much?”
“No,” I rush to assure him. “They’re just being protective.” I drop the spoon, losing my appetite for the delicious Eton Mess. I wish I had somehow avoided the girls the night I left Arlington Hall an emotional wreck. “They’ll be fine.” I have to hand it to Jude. At least he’s committed and not avoiding them.
I hear my phone ringing in the distance and get down from the stool. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” He takes another huge bite of his sandwich as I leave him, following the sound to the front door, where I find my bag.
I dip in and get my mobile, laughing at the irony when I see who’s calling. I hold up my screen to Jude as I walk back into the kitchen so he can see.
“No time like the present,” he says, taking another huge bite, filling his mouth.
I don’t want Jude to hear this conversation. “I’ll take it in the lounge.”
He nods, unable to speak, and I leave him happily devouring his club sandwich, answering to Abbie as I go. The moment she sees my face, she checks the background, and I wait, flapping my T-shirt as I lower to one of the snuggle chairs. I’m feeling a little hot. Stifled. “Do you want to have dinner?” I ask, hitting things off.
She blinks. “Dinner?”
“You, me, Charley, Lloyd.” I pause a beat. “Jude.”
Her eyes narrow, suspicious. “So he can make us like him again?”
“Do you hate him?”
“Hate is a strong word. I wouldn’t say hate.”
“Good, because I love him.” This is old news, and Abbie knows it. “And he loves me too, so here we are, Jude and I, in love, and it would be kinda nice if my best friends, whom I also love, got on with the man I love.”
“He’s told you that he loves you?” she asks. I nod, and Abbie blows out her cheeks. “Well, he got more than he bargained for in that bet, didn’t he?”
My shoulders drop. “Can we forget about the bet? Besides, you got a luxury spa day for next to nothing as a result of that bet.” God, I really don’t want to tell them that Katherine is actually Jude’s ex-fiancée.
“Maybe a few more of those spa days might help me on my way to acceptance.”
“You’re a disgrace.” Let’s get this done with. “Jude and Katherine were engaged to be married.”
“Pardon me?”
“You heard.”
Her mouth drops open. “God damn it, I need Charley on this call, but she’s at the in-laws’.”
“It was years ago.”
“But he’s still fucking her?”
“Was, Abbie.” I stand, obviously too fast because I get a complete head rush. So I quickly lower again, shaking the daze away. I sense Abbie thinks I’m being dumb, and I hate that. I also hate the fleeting wonder. Am I? I look back over my shoulder into the kitchen. No. For God’s sake, no, I’m not dumb. “Will you come to dinner with us or not?”
“I’ll call Charley and see when they’re free.”
“Thank you.”
“I can’t wait to be the fifth wheel.” She snorts. “Fuck my life. I take it you’re not coming home tonight.”
“No, I’m staying here.” I blow air up onto my face, trying to cool it. “I signed the papers for my apartment this morning. Fancy a jaunt round IKEA at the weekend?”
“Oh, yes, I need some bigger pots for my plants. Sunday?”
“Perfect.”
“You okay? You sound out of breath.”
I stand slowly this time, pulling my T-shirt away from my body, clammy. “Fine.” Just too many orgasms. “Let me know about Charley and Lloyd.” I hang up and reach for my brow, wiping it. Damp.
I’m hot. Breathless. What the hell? Raising my hand to my throat, I try to swallow. And struggle. “Oh shit,” I gasp, walking as fast as my suddenly shaky legs will carry me back to the kitchen. “The Eton Mess,” I say, laboured, pulling Jude’s eyes my way. One look at me has him dropping the last bit of his sandwich and jumping off his stool so fast, it flies back, hitting the wall. “Are there nuts in the Eton Mess?”
The panic on his face is wild as he rushes to me. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “Fuck, I don’t know. Tell me what to do, Amelia.”
“My bag,” I wheeze, holding on to his forearm, feeling weak and lightheaded. I can’t breathe.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He goes to leave, but comes back, his head not helping him on what’s best to do.
“Go,” I order him, staggering to a stool and sitting, concentrating on breathing, trying not to panic as Jude sprints to the door.
He’s back in a second, throwing my bag on the counter, rummaging through with frantic hands. “What the fuck am I looking for?” he yells, his panic getting the better of him. I take over, yanking my bag towards me and slipping my hand into the side pocket, pulling out my EpiPens. I shove one at Jude, who proceeds to fumble with the protective casing, his big fingers struggling. He curses repeatedly, and I reach for his arm, squeezing. I can’t tell him I need him to be cool, but he must see my message.