By the Book

by Scarlett Parrish

  I hadn’t wanted Daniel to see me make the call, nor to be anywhere near him, even in his line of sight when I did so. Having his gaze on me would be bad enough, let alone his hands. Each brush of his fingers would be a whisper of guilt creeping through my veins to nestle in the pit of my stomach.

  “Hello.”

  How very formal. “Georgia?”

  “Who else?”

  “I wanted to…”

  A heavy sigh, more of a groan, audible above the sound of traffic passing by.

  All the better to freeze you out with. “I’m just calling to see if you’re still okay for Monday.” Doing an absolutely appalling job of ignoring the shard of ice her groan had aimed right through my heart, I carried on walking, despite one or two faltering steps. Hungover, yes, but not on alcohol. Self-consciousness and remorse made for a heady cocktail.

  “Where are you? You sound like you’re walking pretty fast.”

  “Yeah. I’m hurrying for a bus. Listen, Geo. I just called to speak to you and see if—”

  “Yeah, Monday’s fine.” Another sigh but warmer now. Tired rather than confrontational. “I’ll see you then. Is the evening good for you?”

  “Geo, you don’t…” I stopped, moved over to the inside of the pavement so I didn’t get in anyone’s way. Not that there were many people around. “You don’t have to ask.”

  “Even so. Is the evening okay with you?”

  “Yes, it’s fine.”

  “Good. I’ll send you a text closer to the time, let you know exactly when I can make it. Should be early evening though. I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah.” Offering a feeble good-bye, I reasoned that would be better than her hanging up on me without a word. I nevertheless waited for her to break the call before sliding my mobile shut. I tucked it back into my jacket pocket and looked all around me. Over my shoulder. Back in the direction of Daniel’s place. Saw the street along which I’d walked anew, through conscience-colored spectacles. Everything shaded with Daniel.

  Maybe spending the night with another man isn’t the best way to build bridges, Hutton.

  Clearing my throat, I turned away, heading for the stop to wait for the damn bus, which would, I hoped, carry me away from the smell of burning.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A couple of work colleagues commented on my mood on Monday. I gave them nothing in return but a watery smile and an insistence I was okay. I remembered hearing once that the greatest white lie ever uttered was I’m fine. I also remembered telling myself once upon a time there are no greater lies than the ones we tell ourselves.

  I told Tom that Georgia was coming round and left it at that. He didn’t press for details or make any comment beyond “I hope you guys work it out.”

  Yeah, me too.

  Once home that evening, I loitered at the living room window hugging a coffee mug, trying to ignore the quiet. I considered switching on the television or CD player to provide some white noise, some background music so the flat didn’t feel so empty, but realized it wouldn’t work, so why bother? Companionable silences were comforting. This silence—thick like molasses, oppressive, invasive, all-embracing, and impossible to disguise—went bone-deep.

  Things with Georgia were hellish at the moment, true, but surely there was a chance of her agreeing to a triple, as Daniel called it?

  Turning away from the window, I bit my lip, wondering what the odds of that were. Well, I’d find out this evening when Georgia came round to pick up some things. The first time I’d seen her in a while, and to hit her with such a suggestion… Not straightaway, though. I’d test the waters first. Gauge her mood. Her receptiveness. With any luck…

  Luck is something you don’t have much of, isn’t it, Hutton?

  Sighing, I looked at the clock for the umpteenth time, and it was hardly any closer to seven than the last time I’d looked.

  When the doorbell rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’d been expecting Georgia to use her keys to let herself in, and her failure to do so unsettled me. She’d used her intercom pass to get into the block, but that final step, turning her key in the door, was a step too far.

  At least she hasn’t handed her keys back to me and told me to keep them.

  “Why didn’t you let yourself in?” It may have sounded like an accusation, but my need to know trumped my need to adhere to social niceties.

  “Well.” Georgia leaned against the door frame, jingling her key ring in one hand, and I tried not to notice the rather large handbag she had slung over one shoulder. Big enough to be a weekender or travel bag, nearly. She looked beautiful even without makeup on, her hair up in a messy ponytail, dressed in casual clothes that somehow managed to cling in all the right places. “I didn’t think it was right, given this is your, I mean you’re my…” She took a deep breath, and I prayed for her not to offer me the keys back. “Sorry, but can I…?” She pointed to the hallway behind me, and I stood back to let her in.

  “You don’t have to ask.”

  She cleared her throat and stepped across the threshold, as significant a move to me as a vampire accepting an invitation to enter a residence.

  “Geo—”

  “Look, I—”

  My turn to clear my throat. “You go first.”

  She shoved her keys into her pocket—

  Thank you, God.

  —and adjusted the strap on her shoulder. The fact that she didn’t put it down or remove her jacket was a kick in the guts. Look at me not planning on staying, her body language said. “I was just gonna have a root through your drawers—I mean chest of drawers.” A short burst of laughter. “To see if there was anything of mine still here.”

  “You don’t have to go.” Ah fuck. Way to go, Hutton. Just blurt it out. “I mean, this doesn’t have to—”

  “Yes. Reece.” She looked to one side then down at her feet. “Yes, it does.”

  “But you…we…” Standing to one side, I let her head to the bedroom without protest. There was no point standing over her, watching as she shoved a T-shirt, a skirt, a bra into her bag. For one thing, she’d get irritated—more than she likely was already—and for another, it’d take me down a line of thought I wanted nothing to do with. Every pair of socks, every pair of lacy underwear she packed away would be another line drawn through “Georgia and Reece.” So I let her get on with it, all the while loitering in the hall, waiting for her to reappear.

  “May I remind you,” she said, hovering in the bedroom doorway for a few seconds before pulling the door shut behind her. I didn’t like the way it sounded, that terminal click. “I didn’t want this.”

  “But—” The look on her face cut me off. I wasn’t brave, but I was desperate enough to try again. “Neither did…”

  She inclined her head, not taking one step nearer to me. Which was good. She didn’t take one step closer to the exit.

  Leaning back against the wall, I ran a thumb back and forth over my bottom lip, nearly chewing the nail but not, for fear of how nervous it would make me look. “You made me choose.”

  “My heart bleeds. What did you expect; that you could have us both?”

  She got straight to the heart of the matter without even trying.

  “Let me just say a few things before you go.”

  She deflated then and neared me. Or it could have been the front door that was her target; I stood in between the two, after all, and she’d have to walk past me.

  An almost imperceptible nod, which I took as a reluctant yes.

  “First of all, I don’t want things to be over between us.”

  “Reece, you can’t tell me you’ve been pining. I assume you’ve been with Daniel?”

  “Georgia.” I swallowed, uncertain of how to phrase what I had to say, eventually deciding just to speak and hope she understood. “I want you to come back.”

  “But you want—” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, emphasizing the curve of her waist, and I had a flash of myself, running a hand over her hip.
“But you want Daniel too. Don’t you?”

  I opened my mouth to speak. Again, faltered. “That doesn’t stop…”

  “Wanting one person doesn’t stop you wanting another?”

  Her voice was calm, but I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or forced. Too disturbed myself to read her emotions clearly, I hoped it was the former.

  “Okay then, what about when you”—oh God, this will sound like an accusation—“went with Sarah?”

  “For you!” Georgia snapped before biting her lip as if in regret at her loss of temper, however mild. “It was your birthday. It was about you. I have no desire to see you with another man.”

  “What, ever?” As if I needed her to clarify. “I mean…”

  “Reece, are you expecting me to…?”

  Frowning, I somehow managed to meet her gaze. “Can I be blunt with you? Honest?”

  “Please do.”

  “There’s no reason why we can’t—the three of us, I mean…”

  “Yes, Reece. There is a reason. Besides, it’s obvious your attraction to Daniel is nothing to do with me. It’s a thing apart. Me and Sarah? It was a show. A play. A fucking performance. A birthday present. You and Daniel? It’s nothing. To do. With me.” She paused. Bit her lip. “Is it?”

  “You find him attractive too, don’t you?”

  “Not as much as I do—as I did—you, though.” She shook her head, looked down at the floor. “If I were to say let’s get back together, but no more playing, would you do it?” She lifted her gaze again, and I stared, mute. In her eyes was a silent challenge I couldn’t answer. “I can do without bringing anyone else in, but can you?”

  It took me two goes to swallow back the knot of guilt at the back of my throat, but she still didn’t stop there.

  “Can you do without Daniel?”

  I opened my mouth to speak. Couldn’t. I swallowed again and made another valiant attempt. “I…I can’t.”

  “I thought as much.”

  “No. I meant you. I can’t do without you. And him; Jesus, Georgia. It’s so different, but the same. I need you both.”

  “And that’s the reason.” Her shoulders slumped. “You need us both? I only need one of you. I can’t be with a man who feels so strongly for someone else. Even if that person’s still there. Around. With us. Especially then. How the hell can I compete with another man?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I’m not enough,” Georgia said. “We brought in thirds, but it was a game, and maybe we shouldn’t have, but it’s too late now. You got attached to someone else, and it’s happened. Nothing we can do about it. But you know what? You were the only one I needed. I could have done without bringing in anyone else. It was all a bit of fun, but it…” One hand clung to the strap of her bag. The other lifted in helpless surrender. “It got serious, and, well, game over.”

  “Georgia. Please, at least think about this.”

  “I’ve done nothing but think about this for weeks, Reece. Everyone else was window dressing. I could have done without. You? You were always enough.”

  “If it was just sex, Georgia, I would have been enough for you afterward. You wouldn’t have wanted to go with him again.”

  She flinched as if I’d slapped her. “You think I can’t have sex with someone else without being attached to them?”

  “No. Clearly that’s my problem, isn’t it?”

  “I guess that’s why it’s so easy for me, then, eh?” she asked with a smile. A fake one. Watery, trembling. And she couldn’t fool me. “Sure, I fancied him and liked what he did for me, but I can live without doing it again because he’s not the one I—Never mind.”

  This was worse than fighting. The surrender, the giving in, the this is over. Put simply, whatever I gave Daniel was, to her, something stolen from us. She’d never accept that whatever I felt for Daniel—and I didn’t exactly know how to articulate that myself—didn’t detract from my desire for her. She saw him as a rival, whereas I saw him as an addition. Or at least I’d have liked him to be.

  “I better go,” Georgia said, still with her gaze fixed on me, not making a move for the door.

  “Stay.”

  “Reece.” Her hips flinched as if she wanted to take a step toward me, then thought better of it. Instead, she turned toward the door, paused, and only after that beat did she take a step.

  I rested my hand on the small of her back, and she froze, though she didn’t wriggle away from me or tell me not to touch her. “Georgia, can’t we talk?”

  “There’s not much to say, is there?”

  “Come back.”

  “Don’t.”

  She still didn’t make any move to leave, so I slid my hand up her body to her neck.

  “Reece.” It sounded like a plea. Reece, yes or Reece, no I wasn’t sure, but I was willing to take my chances.

  “Can we at least agree to talk about this?”

  “There isn’t anything to say.”

  “Then tell me to stop.”

  She swallowed. Hard. Gulped back air.

  “Georgia.” I cupped her face with one hand, thumb moving back and forth across her throat. She trembled underneath my touch, her skin warm, and I wondered if she was fighting a desire to push me away or a desire for me to move in closer. “Stay.” I leaned in but couldn’t bring myself to kiss her. Yet. My lips were just a breath away from hers, and she licked her lips, nearly touching mine. Nearly.

  “Reece, you…”

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I—”

  Something thudded. Without looking down, I realized she’d dropped the bag on the carpet.

  And with her free hand, she gripped my T-shirt at the waist, fabric bunching in her fist, and I didn’t know if it was a halfhearted attempt to pull me in or push me away.

  I didn’t know if she knew.

  “How can you…?” she began, but I kissed her.

  Gently, barely more than my lips brushing against hers. And slowly. Just to remind her who was kissing her.

  “Georgia,” I breathed into her. “I still want you.”

  “Don’t, Reece. It just makes it harder for me to go.”

  “Then don’t go. I still want you. I still lo—”

  “Please. Stop.”

  “I’m not going to lie. This doesn’t change anything for me. I do still—”

  “It changes things for me.” Georgia spoke so firmly, I wondered if she’d attempted assertiveness and gone overboard by accident.

  I backed away enough for her to have room to reach for her bag again. “Isn’t there any way?” My voice cracked, and she looked me in the eye and all the anger was gone. I thought. “Can I call you?”

  She rolled her shoulders. “You know it’s not…” Her hand clasped the door handle.

  I rolled my eyes, tried not to let them water. Told them not to water.

  “You can’t have us both.” She slipped outside again, clicking the door shut behind her, and I let her go. I let her go.

  Knew if it had been Daniel who’d walked out on me, I’d feel just as bad right now.

  * * *

  The silence after Georgia left made my head ache. I stood in the hallway for the longest time, staring at the front door as if my gaze would burn a hole big enough for her to step back through. How long it took for me to realize she wasn’t coming back, at least tonight, I wasn’t sure. How many times would I be expected to take this?

  Reaching into the pocket of one of my jackets hanging on the wall-mounted coatrack, I groped around for my mobile phone to check the time. I’d not bothered to take it off silent after work, which was why I hadn’t known about the two messages.

  Both from Daniel.

  One a text, sent only half an hour before.

  When he’d known she was coming. He’d known. I’d mentioned it casually, dropping it into one of our phone conversations at the weekend, so what the hell was he doing sending messages when he’d known I’d have company? And not just any old company, but the
girlfriend with whom I wanted to build some type of bridge?

  “Damn it, Daniel, thank God this thing was on silent,” I muttered into the ether, pressing the button to read his text.

  There had to be something ironic in shutting out Daniel when I was with Georgia, attempting to do the same to her when in Daniel’s bed.

  Hey. Hope it’s going okay. I know you think it’s a mess but whatever happens the 3 of us will be all right.

  “Glad someone thinks so, Daniel,” I said out loud as if he were actually here, and a shiver ran up my spine. I would have glanced over my shoulder but for the realization Daniel wasn’t an angel after all, not a demon. He couldn’t manifest in a locked room where once I’d been alone. Daniel Cross’s powers weren’t paranormal, and his wings were painted on. He—like I—was only too human.

  The other message was a voice mail, and irritation flared in the pit of my stomach. As if a text wasn’t bad enough when it came to risking interrupting me and Georgia. He’d called too?

  Groaning, I rubbed my dry, tired eyes with one hand, using the other to call voice mail and hold the phone to my ear. And I did so tentatively like it wasn’t a mobile phone at all, but a hand grenade with the pin removed.

  “…wish I was there, but…” A heavy sigh, or groan. “But something tells me that would be a pretty bad idea.”

  Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

  “Look, I’m ready to chew my own face off here…”

  Oh you’re stressed?

  “…gotta know what’s going on. I know, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m involved too, so…” Another pained sigh and I managed to summon some empathy. Only a little, given the fact I was the one in the midst of all this. Circa Reece tonat, to paraphrase Thomas Wyatt. Around Reece, the thunder rolls.

  “Oh, hi.” He must have been sitting right by his phone or holding it, staring at the screen, waiting for me to ring, so quickly did he answer. “How did it go? You got my messages?”

  “Yeah. Yes, I did. After Georgia had left.”