Blurring the Line

by Nicola Marsh

  I'd expected to feel affronted when I saw him next. Instead, as I stopped a few feet away, all I felt was relief. Relief that I'd lost the urge to hit him. Relief that we could now meet as equals. Relief that I felt nothing for him anymore.

  But that relief was short-lived as his lips brushed my cheek in greeting and my skin tingled—all over—making a mockery of the fact I felt nothing for him. "Good to see you, Bellie."

  Guess I should be grateful he hadn't added the addendum 'Smelly', like he had when we were kids. 'Smelly-Bellie' had been one of his favorites and while I'd pretended to hate it, I'd lapped up the attention.

  "Good to see you, too," I said, grateful my voice didn't come out a squeak. "You're a long way from home."

  "So are you." He smiled and I swear my heart leaped before landing in an embarrassing squelch.

  His smile had always done that to me, made me a little breathless and a lot goofy.

  "Are you on holiday here?"

  I shook my head, grateful for the small talk. I needed time to reassemble my wits. Joel. Here. Fuck. "No, I'm on an exchange program at DU. Last semester of my physio degree."

  He didn't look surprised I was studying physiotherapy, which meant he'd probably heard the news from his mum. Kate Goodes still lived next door to my mum and with a little luck she'd be my boss when I graduated soon.

  "Planning on specializing?"

  "Orthopedics," I said, trying not to squirm under the intensity of his stare.

  He had this way of looking at me, like he could see straight down to my soul and was intrigued by it. How many nights had I lain awake, reliving every conversation we'd ever had, every instance he'd looked at me with those startling blue eyes, every time he'd innocuously touched me.

  I'd had the crush to end all crushes. Thank God I'd grown up.

  "Same as me," he said, touching the small of my back to move me slightly as a group of college co-eds jostled near us.

  And damned if the pit of my stomach didn't fall away, just as it used to. So much for growing up.

  After the students had passed, I eased away, needing to put some distance between us. If his touch wasn't bad enough, standing this close I could smell him. An intoxicating blend of freshly showered male and citrus aftershave: alluring and tangy and delicious.

  "You're working in Denver?"

  He nodded, the ends of his dark blond hair curling around his ears just like it used to. "Six month locum at an outpatient clinic."

  "Great." But it wasn't, because that was the end of the small talk. The rest of the questions I wanted to ask—why the hell he'd run out on me after we'd shared so much on graduation night and why he hadn't been back home since—would have to wait. For we now had an audience of four as I belatedly realized I hadn't even said hi to Kye and Ashton.

  Pasting a smile on my face, I said, "Hey guys."

  They grinned in unison over Joel's shoulder, while Mia gave me a thumbs up sign of approval and Dani mimicked smooching.

  I’d kill them later. "Joel, have you met Dani and Mia?"

  I watched as the girls introduced themselves, glad of the opportunity to study Joel. He was four years older than me, which meant he'd turned twenty-six in June. The sixth, to be exact. A date often decorated with hearts in the many journals I'd kept while mooning over him.

  He looked older since I'd last seen him, with tiny laugh lines crinkling the corners of his eyes when he smiled, and deeper grooves bracketing his mouth. But the rest was the same: tall, tanned and terrific.

  Joel ran in his spare time, long distance jogs that lasted anything from sixty to ninety minutes, ensuring I'd be glued to my bedroom window for his return in that last half hour. It had been worth the wait every day, to see him performing cool down stretches in his yard, before he peeled off his T-shirt and revealed glistening chest and abs. Drool.

  Damn, was it hot in here? As if sensing my wayward thoughts, he turned back to me, effectively pinning me between his body and a pool table.

  "Would you like a drink?"

  "Beer's fine, thanks." Preferably icy cold, so I could douse myself with it.

  "You've given up on the raspberry spiders?" The corners of his mouth curved upward and my stomach did another somersault.

  "How the hell do you remember that?"

  His eyes darkened to sapphire. "You'd be surprised by what I remember."

  We stared at each other, unable to look away, for what seemed like an eternity. A potent, all-consuming heat swept over me, from the top of my head downward, drenching me in a sudden, swift desire so fierce I could barely stand upright.

  My legs wobbled, my heart raced and my palms grew damp, as I frantically tried to come up with something casual to say. Something other than let's get the hell out of here and finish what we started four freaking years ago.

  "I'll get you that drink." He broke the deadlock, but not before I glimpsed his telltale give: rubbing the back of his right ear.

  The fact I remembered something so insignificant meant this was going to be one hell of a long evening. Because I didn't want to remember. Didn't want to resurrect the memories that I'd obviously buried but weren't forgotten. Stupid, small stuff like the fact he preferred caramel milkshakes, Vegemite and cheese on toast, was fastest at backstroke and could name every eucalypt that bordered our properties.

  Yep, this was going to be a doozy of a night.

  "Here you go." He handed me a beer and I noticed he didn't have one.

  "Thanks." I drank deeply to ease the tightness in my throat. "What about you?"

  "I'm not staying." Before I could blink, he ducked his head to murmur in my ear. "Great seeing you again."

  What the fuck?

  "Sorry, guys, gotta run," he said, exchanging quick handshakes with Kye and Ashton, and nodding at Dani and Mia, whose perplexed expressions had to mirror mine.

  Speechless, I watched the guy I'd once been crazy for walk out on me. Again.

  This time, I wouldn't accept it.

  Not without a fight.

  Chapter 4

  JOEL

  I slammed through the bar's front door like a drowning man breaking the ocean's surface: panicked, frantic, desperate to drag in a breath.

  Because that's how I'd felt since Annabelle had strutted into that damn bar in her high heel boots: like I couldn't breathe.

  A stupid, irrational reaction considering I hadn't seen her in years. But the moment we'd locked eyes, I'd felt exactly the same as I had back in Uppity-Doo: guilty as hell.

  I shouldn't lust after my best friend's sister. The small, salient point that I was no longer in touch with Trevor? Irrelevant. Because Annabelle wasn't the kind of girl to be toyed with. She wanted a white picket fence and two-point-five kids, a dream she'd made perfectly clear that night we'd hooked up.

  Man, had I fucked up that night royally. And by the look on her face as I'd just said goodbye, I'd made it two out of two.

  Swearing under my breath, I thrust my hands into my pockets and headed for home, a one-bedroom apartment a few blocks away.

  "Where the hell do you think you're going?" Annabelle's hand came out of nowhere, landing on my shoulder and hauling me to a stop.

  Bracing against the urge to yank her into my arms and apologize, I schooled my face into blankness before turning. "I'm heading home."

  Her upper lip curled. "Don't you mean one of the shitty apartments you rent in whatever city you run away to?"

  Her jibe hurt, her signature bluntness another memory I didn't want resurfacing. I'd liked that about her, the complete lack of artifice and low tolerance for bullshit. Unfortunately, I'd liked too many things about Annabelle, something that had become all too evident on her graduation night.

  I never should've laid a finger on her. But it was as if all the years of repressed sexual tension had exploded when I'd seen that sleazy prick all over her. I'd let her date go with a warning and not the beating I'd wanted to dish out. As for Annabelle … damn, I got hard just thinking about how I'd released
tension with her.

  "Go back to your friends," I said, taking a step back so I couldn't smell the subtle vanilla and cinnamon body wash she'd always favored.

  I hadn't been able to eat a donut for years after that night, remembering the way her scent had clung to my skin, imprinted on my memory receptors like a goddamn brand.

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She folded her arms, creating a cleavage I could barely tear my eyes off. Shit, not helping the hard-on situation. "Me being the accepting, pathetic doormat I was back then."

  Her arm lashed out and she jabbed me in the chest. "Well, I've got news for you. I'm not letting you walk away without telling you exactly what I think."

  Her blue eyes flashed fire and damn if I didn’t want to be scorched. But if I'd stopped things before they got too far last time, no way in hell I’d let my cock rule my head now.

  "This isn't the time or place." I held up my hands, trying to placate her.

  She pushed them aside as she stepped in close. Too close. "Stiff shit. Because you need to hear this."

  I hated that we were having this conversation on the street but no chance I’d invite her back to my place for some privacy.

  Feigning indifference, I shrugged. "Fine. Go ahead."

  I could've sworn her bottom lip quivered for a moment before she straightened, squaring her shoulders. "Why did you run out on me after that night?"

  And there it was, the question she had every right to ask, but I couldn't answer honestly.

  So I'd lie, just like I'd lied back then. "I didn't run. I needed to find a job."

  "Bullshit." Derision radiated off her in waves. "Your mum had a spot for you at the clinic." She pinned me with a far too astute glare. "She still does."

  "I'm not interested in working at a small clinic."

  A harsh chuckled erupted from her ruby-glossed lips. "That shows how much you know. If you'd deigned to come home and visit your mum, you'd know her clinic now houses an occupational therapist, a speech therapist, a dietician, an exercise physiologist, two psychologists, a gym and a hydrotherapy pool."

  Amazed, I stared at the woman who was making me feel more of a heel than I already was.

  "And that's not counting the orthopedic surgeons who consult weekly." Her lips compressed into an unimpressed line. "Yeah, your mum runs a real small clinic, considering it services Uppity-Doo and every surrounding town within a hundred kilometers."

  Shit, why hadn't Mum said something on the phone last night? Not that it would've swayed my decision to return and take up the reins, but I could've congratulated her on her booming practice.

  "I'm glad Mum's doing well," I said, sounding inadequate and lame.

  "So glad you never visit?"

  Anger burned my gut. "I don't need a lecture from you."

  "You're right, you don't need a lecture. You need a kick up the arse."

  I couldn't stop an eruption of laughter and her eyes narrowed.

  "You think this is funny?"

  "I think this is pointless." I waved a hand between us. "Rehashing the past. Taking potshots at me." I shrugged, hating the gleam of disappointment clouding her eyes. "What happened that night was nothing more than us blowing off a bit of steam. We both moved on. Let's leave it at that."

  "Let's not—"

  "You don't get it, do you?" Feeling like the biggest bastard in the world, I dredged up the worst lie. "What we did back then? Meant absolutely nothing to me."

  This time, she let me walk away.

  "You're an arsehole," she yelled at my retreating back.

  "Don't I know it," I muttered, clenching and unclenching my fists.

  If walking away from Annabelle four years ago had been tough, it had nothing on resisting the urge to turn back now.

  Chapter 5

  ANNABELLE

  Considering I had to start a four-week clinical placement today before heading home to Melbourne for my final exams, I shouldn't have gone out last night.

  I shouldn't have done a lot of things last night, starting with letting Dani and Mia coerce me into going to that bar and finishing with me confronting Joel for answers.

  My mum always said don't ask the question unless you're prepared for the answer. Boy, did that apply to last night.

  The most memorable night of my life with Joel had meant nothing to him. That's why he'd left without any qualms, without an explanation, without giving a shit.

  It should've put the past to rest, hearing him articulate the truth. It hadn't. If anything, it made me madder, that I'd wasted so much time yearning after a selfish prick.

  Not anymore. The moment I got home to Uppity-Doo I'd burn every single one of those incriminating journals, along with the box of keepsakes I'd hung onto in the vain hope that one day when we were married I'd show him and we could laugh over it.

  Yeah, that's how smitten I'd been. My future was in Uppity-Doo, always had been. Studying in Melbourne—and Denver—was a necessity for my qualifications, but I'd always intended returning to the small town I loved and working there, marrying there, raising a family there.

  Sadly, in my little fantasy, Joel had been the starring male.

  Considering he hadn't bothered to visit his mum in years and by the sounds of it, had no intention of returning soon, I'd never have to see his smug face again. Which was fine by me. A self-delusion I could almost believe if that persistent ache in my chest since last night would vanish.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I entered the rehab clinic, game face on. I loved diagnosing patients, using my skills to solve the puzzle of why a muscle, ligament or bone wasn't doing what it should. And once I'd completed my stint here, I was almost home free.

  The receptionist smiled as I approached the front desk. "Can I help you?"

  "I'm Annabelle Cleary, here for my clinical placement."

  The receptionist nodded. "The physical therapists are expecting you." She glanced at the computer screen, which I could see was filled with appointments for five therapists. "Head on through the main door on your left, take a right past the gym and you'll find the mini conference room where you can wait."

  "Thanks." I wanted to ask which therapist I'd be shadowing, but the receptionist had turned away to answer a call. I'd done an online search and discovered the senior clinicians specialized in spinal injuries, and the rest of the physios dealt with rehab for reconstructions and joint replacements. All were locally trained and I wanted to absorb as much as I could before returning to Australia.

  Following the receptionist's instructions, I passed a modern gym quadruple the size of my dorm, and filled with Pilates equipment, strengthening apparatus and exercise machines. Made me wonder how Kate Goodes' renovation was coming along. Last visit home eighteen months ago she'd been expanding her physio practice even further.

  And had offered me a job.

  Back then, I'd been ecstatic, envisaging Joel working alongside me in the not too distant future, the two of us indulging in a steamy workplace relationship.

  Yeah, right.

  I linked my hands and did a quick stretch overhead, taking several deep breaths. This was my final placement and I needed to kick arse, not be distracted by thoughts of a guy who wasn't worth it.

  Feeling suitably focused, I entered the conference room.

  To find Joel sitting at the head of the polished mahogany table, typing on a laptop.

  Shit.

  Of all the physio practices in town, he had to be locuming at this one?

  Though it wasn't all bad. The senior clinicians wouldn't have me shadowing some temporary newbie. Which meant I could ignore him the rest of the time.

  I needed to get this confrontation over and done with. After last night, I couldn't think of anything more awkward than seeing the guy I wanted to strangle again. But this was my career at stake and I'd do whatever it took to finish my degree and graduate.

  I cleared my throat, unprepared for the virtual punch to the gut when he looked up and his gaze met mine.

  It had a
lways been like this, every single glance, and it made me mad as hell all over again, especially after last night’s reality check.

  "Come in, Annabelle, I've been expecting you," he said, closing his laptop.

  "You have?" The idiotic response popped out before I could stop it so I compressed my lips and made for the seat he was holding out for me.

  “Yeah, the boss told me the good news this morning.”

  Good news? I didn’t understand his smirk or the amused glint in his eyes.

  Taking advantage of my confusion, he continued. "We need to go through these patient files before we get started today."

  We?

  He couldn't mean what I thought he meant …

  "I'm shadowing you?" I sounded like he'd offered me a year's worth of free spinal manipulation, naked.

  To my horror, the corners of his mouth curved into a devastating smile. "Yeah. Got a problem with that?"

  "Where do I start?" I baulked at sitting, preferring to stand so he wouldn't be towering over me and making me feel more at a disadvantage than I already did. "We can't work together."

  "Why not?" He slid his hands into his pockets, pulling his navy polo shirt taut across his chest, the clinic's logo positioned directly over the organ I'd like to drive a knife through. "We're professionals."

  The fact he was right only served to rile me further. I couldn't work with him. Couldn't spend eight hours a day, five days a week, for the next month, being in his presence.

  I'd go bonkers.

  I had to request a change at the university. Yeah, that's what I’d do. Except students were allocated therapists to shadow at the start of semester according to specialty. Changes were forbidden barring extreme circumstances. And as much as I wanted to argue against working alongside the prick that had broken my heart, I doubted the course coordinator would go for it.

  Which meant I had no option but to suck it up for the next four weeks. But not without giving it one last shot.

  "I thought students weren't allocated to locums because of the high turnover rate and the likelihood you'll move on at a whim?"