Phase (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #1)

by Michelle Irwin

  “Don’t be sorry, darlin’. I told ya I want to know ya. I want to know all about ya. No more hidin’. No more coy. ’Kay?”

  My lips were aching from how huge my smile was, and how long it’d stayed plastered across my face. “Okay.”

  “Now, what else do ya got to show me? Anything else near where that photo was?” The corners of his lips curled up into a cheeky grin.

  “No, why?” I leaned over to put the photo back. “What do you think—”

  I’d pulled halfway back to my lying position when I saw the path of his gaze. His eyes lifted when he heard my voice stop.

  “Oh, I see your game,” I teased.

  “Hmm, well, I can’t lie and say I wasn’t enjoying the view.”

  “You’re terrible. Skyping younger women just to ogle their goodies.”

  He chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Guilty, ya honour.”

  “God, I miss you. Even now, I can see you, and talk to you, but it’s not enough.” I didn’t voice my other thought, that the longing ache I felt in my limbs was exactly what I’d worried about when I’d left him in Georgia. Part of me had known if we kept in contact, we’d reach a point where the little we had wasn’t enough. I hadn’t expected it to be during our first online date.

  “I know, darlin’, me too. I didn’t ’spect for it to be this hard.”

  “It’s always going to be like this though, isn’t it? More and more longing, a greater regret, and then we’re going to drift apart.”

  “That don’t have to be the way.”

  “Of course it does.”

  He looked like he was going to argue, but then he stopped and grew thoughtful. “Ya know what I wish more than anythang?”

  “What?”

  “I wish I knew that woulda been our last night together.”

  My expression fell. We had to talk about it sooner or later, but I’d been hoping for later. Or never. Either one worked for me.

  “Hear me out, darlin’. I just woulda held ya a little tighter. Kissed ya a little longer. Done everything in my power to make sure ya remembered me and the way we were together.”

  I picked at the doona, playing with a loose thread. “I remember,” I murmured, unable to meet his gaze. “I remember everything.” I looked up at him through my lashes. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget. Your fingerprints are branded on my—”

  A knock on my door cut me off. I sighed as the moment passed.

  “Give me a minute,” I said to Beau before climbing off the bed. I opened the door a little, not wanting to give anyone the chance to intrude.

  Beth stood in the hallway, swaying shyly from side to side. “Pheebs, I heard voices in your room.”

  “Yeah, I’m on the phone.” It wasn’t exactly accurate, but it was close enough.

  “But I heard someone else talking.”

  Why didn’t I just use headphones? Next time. That was definitely on the agenda. “Yeah, I’m on the phone on my computer. On Skype, like we do with Dad when he’s away for races. Or like you and me have.”

  “Who are you talking to?”

  There was no way I could juggle the conversation with her and Beau at the same time. “If I let you say hello, will you go straight back to bed?”

  She grinned and nodded.

  I’m sorry, Beau, I thought as I opened my door and let her in. She ran straight across to my bed, jumping onto it at the last second and almost sending my laptop flying.

  “Sorry, I have someone desperate to say hello, even though it’s way past her bedtime.”

  “Howdy,” he said, giving her one of his charming smiles. “Ya must be Beth. Phoebe’s tol’ me all ’bout ya.”

  He scored some major brownie points for remembering her name.

  Beth giggled. “You talk funny.”

  “Beth, that’s not very polite. I let you come in here to talk to my friend and that’s how you act?”

  Her smiled dropped into a frown. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s a’ight, li’l lady, I ’spect I do sound funny ta ya,” Beau said, putting his accent on more than ever. “In fact, y’all over there sound funny ta me.”

  “Even Phoebe?”

  “Especially Phoebe,” he said with a wink. “She’s got the cutest dang accent of the lot.”

  Beth giggled again and started to say something else.

  “I think that’s enough, missy,” I said, cutting her off. If she got on a roll, she’d be there all night, and Mum would already freak if she found out Beth wasn’t asleep yet. “You’ve got school in the morning.”

  “But I wanna—”

  “Bethany Eden Reede. Bed. Now.”

  She opened her mouth again.

  “No buts,” I said to stop any further argument before it could come.

  “Fine.”

  “Night, li’l miss,” Beau said, giving her a little wave.

  I caught her on her way past and kissed her cheek. “Night, Bethie.”

  “Whatever.” She pulled out of my hold, clearly unhappy with me for kicking her out of the room.

  As I closed the door behind her, I shook my head. Clearly she was coming into her teen ’tude too. Just what the house needed—another Reede filled with raging hormones.

  “Sorry about that,” I said as I got comfortable on my bed. “Thank you for being sweet to her.”

  “Ain’t no bother. She’s a li’l sweetheart, just like her big sis.”

  “She has her moments. Do you see now why I needed some time to myself? This is what it’s like here. All. The. Time.”

  He chuckled. “Well, if ya ever need more time alone, I happen to know a really good, really private bed and breakfast in Georgia.”

  “Is that an invite to share your bed, cowboy?”

  “Darlin’, that invitation is open-ended, but ya can even stay in a hotel room there if ya like.”

  “You don’t know how tempting that is.”

  A smile lit his face.

  “But it’s impossible. The holiday I just had is really the last I can take for a while. Between my last few races, jumping in as co-driver for the enduros later in the season, my apprenticeship, and everything else I have between now and the end of the year, I’m booked pretty solid for the next six months.”

  “I understand. It’s like ya said, my schedule keeps me busy, and yours is just as bad.”

  “Yeah. Now do you see why I didn’t want to open ourselves up to these wounds? Why I tried to leave it where it was.”

  “They’re set backs, that’s all. Temporary, darlin’. If it’s meant to be, we’ll get through it.”

  “Are you—”

  Nikki’s cry pierced the night, rolling through the house.

  “Fuck. I need my own place.”

  “Do ya need to go?”

  “No, Mum or Dad will get her. It just never stops, you know?” I probably sounded like an arsehole to him, like I hated my family. It wasn’t that, not at all. Just that I was getting older and felt like it was time to be starting my own life, not still babysitting everyone else’s. “Sorry, it’s not fair to dump that on you.”

  “Are ya kiddin’? This Skype session has been like gettin’ my eyes opened to the real you.”

  “Yeah, this is me. Annoying siblings and all.” Despite wondering whether he was going to call the whole thing off in the next second, I cracked what I could of a smile.

  “What I’ve seen is the girl I met here, but more. I still love ya, Phoebe. And if you’re willing to try the long-distance thang, I’m more than ready.”

  “I want to, Beau. I really do.” I sighed.

  His brow furrowed. “But?”

  My heart leaped into my throat as I wrung my hands together. “I just don’t know if I’m cut out for it. This family, the way I grew up, it was—” I cut myself off with another sigh as I tried to find a way to articulate my concerns. “The best examples I have of loving couples, well the only ones really, are all openly affectionate. Even after being together for fifteen years, M
um and Dad can’t keep their hands to themselves most of the time. They’ve never done anything inappropriate in front of us of course, but they’ve never hidden that affection either. They kiss and cuddle in front of us. That’s what I want. I want to be able to hold the person I love when I tell them I love them.”

  His frown deepened, and his lips turned down. I could practically see his thoughts running through his mind.

  “And what future do we have? You have a career there. I have one here. It’s not like I can just up and leave. There are sponsorships in place. Contracts. My family. What we shared was stamped with an expiration date before it even began.” And he didn’t know the worst of it.

  “Maybe we need to rewrite that date.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What I’m sayin’ is I hear all your concerns. And they’re all understandable, darlin’, but what I don’t hear is a genuine reason not to stay in contact. Maybe you’re right and we’re not destined to end up together, but that’s no reason to deny me the chance to stare into those beautiful eyes of yours. Maybe I can’t hold ya like I long to. Or kiss ya like we did, but ain’t this better than nothing?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m sayin’, don’t cut me out. At least, not because you’re afraid of us never goin’ anywhere. ’Cause here’s the thing ya gotta see: if we end this now, it definitely ain’t goin’ anywhere. At least this way, we have a chance.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Maybe.”

  “When ya called me earlier, you were pretty dang excited.”

  “I thought you’d hate me for running like I did. The parcel proved you didn’t.”

  “And how’d that make ya feel.”

  A dreamy smile lifted my lips.

  “Precisely, darlin’,” he said, not missing it. “That’s how I feel when I think of you too. Even if I do miss ya something dreadful.”

  “Okay. So you’re telling me to stop overthinking it,” I confirmed. Easy. I sighed.

  “Exactly. But I do have to go now; I’m already runnin’ late for work.”

  “Shit. Sorry I kept you on for so long.”

  “Don’t be, darlin’, this was worth being tardy for. Can I call ya at the same time tomorrow?”

  It went against every logical part in my body—the bits of me that didn’t want to get hurt when it inevitably exploded in our faces—but I nodded and smiled. “Please.”

  “’Til tomorrow then, Phoebe.”

  Fuck, my name sounded a thousand times better in his voice. I said goodbye as well and signed off. After I’d packed my laptop away, I sat on my bed and wondered whether I’d made the best decision of my life or the worst.

  Only time would tell.

  THREE WEEKS AFTER Beau’s parcel had arrived, I was the happiest and most miserable I’d ever been. For the stolen moments I was able to talk to him, I was reminded of all the reasons I was willing to try to do the long-distance thing—all while being tortured by the fact that I couldn’t touch him like I wanted to. Couldn’t kiss his soft lips, or feel his fingertips brush over my skin like I needed. We were in a holding pattern—not quite in a relationship but not just friends either. The truths I needed him to know always danced on my tongue, but I didn’t see the point in voicing my worries about the future when I wasn’t even sure we had one together.

  Whenever I complained to Angel, she told me to just let go and take whatever I could. She even tried to convince me to get a lock on my door and invest in a good pair of headphones to take advantage of vocal cues if I couldn’t get physical ones. The idea had passed through my head on more than one occasion, but I didn’t think either Beau or I were quite ready to explore the option of screwing ourselves in front of each other. Yet.

  As time had drawn on, my Skype sessions with Beau had grown longer, but the number of days we could talk lessened. In the twenty-one days since our first “date,” we’d spoken a grand total of seven times. Three of those were the first three consecutive nights after I’d received his parcel. Then his schedule had kicked back in, and mine had gone crazy. We kept in contact as much as we could by email and text, but it was so delayed—sometimes with twelve hours or more between sending and receiving—it was hardly ideal.

  The one highlight of that shitty week was when Flynn called me to tell me my bike had arrived. Not that it was really my bike. As agreed, I’d put up the initial cash, and Flynn and his brother, Cain, were going to do the bodywork at cost, and then we were going to share the profits.

  When I arrived at Eastern Smash Repairs early in the morning, it became apparent that the bike had arrived a few days earlier, and they’d already worked on it. The thing looked brand new. The metallic grape-purple paint that coated the straightened body gleamed showroom fresh.

  “Fuck, she’s a beauty,” I said, running my hand over the freshly polished leather seat. Memories of riding her through the US ran through my mind. “Shame she’s got to go.”

  “If you’re going to get into the business of flipping, you can’t form any emotional attachments, kiddo,” Flynn teased.

  “I know. It’s just, well, I had some good times with her. She’s not just some bike I bought to flip. During her difficult time in Sacramento when I had to rebuild her, we bonded.”

  He smiled down on me, a fatherly grin that told me he’d suspected as much and possibly had something planned. “I figured you’d feel that way. Pick one.” He nodded toward my Ducati at the back of the shop—where it had sat since Dad had it towed there after my jaunt to Sydney.

  “What?” A thrill raced through me. Was he suggesting what I thought he was?

  “Well, the Ducati was a gift from us. The two bikes are worth about the same; if anything this Honda here nudges a bit ahead in those stakes, so pick one. Whichever you pick will be yours; the other will be sold.”

  “Are you kidding? There’s no choice!”

  “I didn’t think there would be.”

  “You’re not upset that I’d pick this over the one you gave me?”

  “Nah, means a little of me rubbed off on you. You’ve got my good taste. Between all of us, we’ve raised you right. The Ducati is great, a real speed machine, but this baby”—he patted the seat—“she’s got a certain je ne sais quoi about her.”

  “That she does.” My heart was pounding with excitement as I trailed my fingers over the newly shined sissy bars.

  “Have you told your mum and dad that you rode across the US yet?”

  “Ha ha, you’re funny, Uncle Flynn.”

  He raised his eyebrow at me. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “The fact that I’m still alive is evidence of that being a no. They were miffed enough that I didn’t have Angel with me the whole time.”

  “You should trust them more.” The disappointment in his voice made my heart stop and leap into my throat. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sweet talk my way out of it like I normally would. “If you want them to treat you like a grown-up, you have to act like one. That includes telling them about your bike licence and the fact that this was your ride overseas. Otherwise Dec isn’t likely to understand why you want it.”

  I kept my eyes fixed on the gleaming metalwork—better than looking at the disappointment in Flynn’s eyes. “He thinks all bikes are death traps though.”

  “He’s just trying to protect you. Why don’t I give you a lift home and help you tell them?”

  “Let me guess, if I say no, you’re going to hold my bike hostage until I do?”

  His lips stretched into a Cheshire cat grin. “Am I that easy to read?”

  “I know you too well.”

  “You promised me you’d tell them last time. Instead, Luke and I ended up getting reamed out over the irresponsible gift we gave an apparently unlicensed driver. I won’t always take the fall for you, Pheebs.”

  “I know.”

  “So?”

  I sighed. It wasn’t going to be a fun conversation, but Flynn was right. I needed to talk to Mum and Dad more, about
everything. It wasn’t like they were unreasonable monsters—at least not all the time. “Fine.”

  “HOW COULD you be so damned irresponsible?”

  I hung my head at the tail end of Dad’s lecture. For over fifteen minutes, he’d gone on the exact tangent I’d expected over the fact I had my bike licence from New South Wales and the fact that I’d ridden across the States without warning them. “I’m sorry I lied, okay. But I wasn’t being irresponsible. I was being safe. I know how to handle a bike. Angel knew most of my plans, and I had my mobile on me the whole time.”

  In fact, the most irresponsible thing I’d done the whole trip was agree to meet Beau—and neither of them had expressed any concern about that. True, they didn’t know all the details, but that was beside the point.

  “Pheebs, not telling us was irresponsible,” Mum added. She held my hand to lessen the impact, but it didn’t stop the bile rising in my throat. “What if we’d had a phone call that you’d come off your bike? We wouldn’t have believed it was you.”

  “Not to mention getting your licence in such an underhanded way!” Dad added.

  A snigger drew my attention. When I glanced toward the sound, I caught Max and Brock ducking out of sight. Of course they’d be listening in. I wanted to shout at them to fuck off, but it would only get me in more trouble. Instead, I sucked down a breath and met Dad’s eye. “I know, but you don’t understand, Dad. When I’m on a bike, I’m free in a way I can’t be in a car. It’s stupid that on a Queensland licence I’m allowed to drive alone but not ride alone. I just sped things along a little.”

  “What sort of example are you setting for your brothers and sisters?”

  “Hopefully one where they are willing to take a stand against injustice.”

  In my peripheral vision, I watched Flynn trying to hide his laughter. It was testament to his relationship with my parents that they hadn’t kicked him out before starting their lecture. He was wise and didn’t make a sound though.

  “Nothing I did was illegal,” I added, looking up at Dad through my lashes in the way that usually got me what I wanted. “Not really.”