What the Lightning Sees: Part One (6 page)

“You know. The ones who everyone wants to be or is desperate to fuck.” Saying the word fuck in front of him felt weird but it was on my tongue before I could stop it.

“We’re not in high school,” he said, still grinning. When he smiled, his whole face joined in, it wasn’t contained to his mouth.

I caught myself staring at him and quickly looked away. “Have you not been paying attention? The class sizes might be bigger and we might get paid, but we’re still in high school.”

He chuckled and the corners of his eyes crinkled up. I bet he was an excellent kisser.
What? Stop it?
I was sure he had his pick of women and left the bodies scattered across the city like litter.

“What do your parents do?” he asked.

“I think I should be able to veto some of these questions.”

“That wasn’t the deal—”

His phone began to vibrate and he drew his eyebrows together. “I’m going to have to take this. Try not to get into trouble while I’m gone.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to my laptop. What on earth was I going to write about? I had nothing so far other than Sandy wanted to dry hump Harry. That was why I didn’t do celebrities. They were never quite as interesting as you imagined them to be. And they were always smaller than they seemed on screen. It was like the entertainment industry had a height restriction.

Harry seemed to have received good news from his phone call.

“Why are you in such a good mood? Did your girlfriend’s chlamydia test come back negative?”

“Give it a fucking rest, Haven. Misery is not most people’s default status.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“Okay, rude then,” he said. I cringed inwardly but tried not to let it show.

“Sorry. Ask me a question.” My tongue was particularly acerbic when I was around him. It was like I wanted to poke about a bit in that charming exterior and see how deep it went. Was I trying to goad him into losing his cool so I could see who he really was? I was thinking too much about Harry when I should be concentrating on Sandy.

“You can’t keep doing that, being like that.”

“Sorry. It was meant to be funny.” I felt silly and embarrassed. I had wanted to make him laugh.

“By joking about my girlfriend’s STDs?”

I shrugged. Luke would have laughed.

“We don’t know each other well enough to be joking about chlamydia.” He chuckled and shook his head.

I bit back a smile.

“So tell me about your parents,” he said, going back to the question he’d asked before his phone call and the one I most dreaded from people.

“They’re dead,” I replied.

He burst out laughing and I found myself smiling at him.

“Jesus. You are dark. Seriously, though . . . ”

“Seriously. They died,” I said. Nobody had ever laughed when I’d told them about my parents—not that I told many people. I found that it was a reaction I preferred over what was normally pity.

“Shit.” He went white. “I thought you were joking.”

“I know. It’s fine.” I smiled at him. I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.

“When did they die?”

“I was fifteen.” Most people didn’t ask follow up questions when I told them that they said they were sorry and then tried to change the subject. Harry didn’t seem to be embarrassed at all.

“How did it happen? At the same time?”

“Yeah. They were in a car accident.” A familiar pressure built across my temples and a sharp stab of pain hit me between my brows. I reached for my forehead, hoping my fingers would usher it away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, like they all did.

I kept rubbing my forehead.

“Well, unless you were the drunk driver who ran into them, you have nothing to be sorry for.” I didn’t want people’s pity, it made me feel weak and it was unacceptable for me to feel that way in front of strangers.

“Haven, I’m sorry for your loss.
Let me
be sorry for your loss.”

I hated the bit straight after I told people. Everyone was uncomfortable. They didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to disappear, I didn’t want their sympathy or sorrow. It felt private, like I didn’t want to share how I felt about my parents, the accident and their death. Those feelings were mine and I guarded them. People’s reaction felt like a call for me to open up. That was why I hated telling people. I didn’t mind people knowing, but I didn’t like the time just after they knew.

Murmurings from the crew in front of us brought our attention back to our surroundings and Sandy came rushing over.

“Harry—I’m done for the day. Shall we go into town and get me drunk?” She giggled.

“I’ve just had a phone call that I have to deal with but another time? When are we back here?”

“Monday,” I said. Drunk Sandy might be more interesting than sober Sandy. Couldn’t Harry’s phone call wait? Although, I wasn’t sure she’d planned to have me tag along.

“Your mind is always on your work, Harry. You need to carve out some time for a little fun.” She turned, winked at him over her shoulder and spun off.

“Well, there are no mixed signals there. I’m guessing she’s a sure thing,” I said.

Harry shrugged and we packed up our stuff and headed to the car.

“Do you like her?” I asked.

“You keep forgetting that I’m asking the questions.” I hated that he dodged the question. I wanted to know whether he found her attractive. What was his type?

“So ask.” I liked that he wanted to know things about me. That he was interested enough to keep this up. It was like our own private game, and somehow he made me feel safe, like I could answer truthfully and nothing bad would happen.

“What’s your favorite food?”

I laughed. He was keeping things on safer ground. “Eggs,” I replied.

“Really?”

“Yeah, love ’em.” It was true. There was nothing nicer than an egg.

“Served any particular way?”

“I’m not fussy.”

“Well, I know that’s a lie,” he said and grinned.

I poked him in the ribs, our eyes met and I quickly pulled my hand away. All of a sudden touching him didn’t seem very appropriate. I’d forgotten myself. I’d thought I was with Luke or Ash.

“With eggs, I’m not fussy.”

“What about time of year?” he asked.

“It seems very one sided and unfair that I can’t ask any questions of you.”

“That’s the deal, and anyway, my favorite food is steak. Not very original, but true nonetheless.”

He helped me load my bag into the back of the car and folded his too long legs into the passenger seat of my tiny car. Maybe he wasn’t spoiled as I’d thought he was.

“I like the spring,” I told him. “The pussy willow, the daffodils. The lengthening days and the promise of summer.”

He nodded and smiled. “Me too.”

Luke scooted Ash and I up his sofa so he could sit down. I loved it when it was the three of us together. We were in a bubble and nothing could touch us, nothing could hurt us. Even though my brother lived with his girlfriend, somehow their flat was very much his. There weren’t many signs of Emma at all.

“So how’s it going with that guy who called you a bitch?” Luke asked as he set down the popcorn in front of Ash and me.

My cheeks burned at the thought of Harry.

“Who called you a bitch?” Ash asked.

“A new person. Harry. But it’s fine now. I think.”

“A new guy?”

I nodded. “A photographer. Some Uni friend of Robert’s. You know how Robert gives his friends jobs.”

“Is he being an asshole, or were you being a bitch?” Ash asked.

“No, actually. I think I was being a bitch.”

I caught Ash and Luke exchange a glance.

“Are you two flirting?” I asked, trying to throw the spotlight back on someone other than me.

“No we are not. When I make a play for your brother, he won’t be able to resist me and we’ll be wedding planning within weeks, so you’ll be well aware.”

“Ash,” Luke said, a warning in his voice. I wasn’t sure if he really didn’t like her teasing him about their imaginary life as a couple, or whether he felt he should say something because he was living with Emma.

“Anyway, back to you. Is this new guy hot?”

I rolled my lips together. He was very definitely hot. And very definitely too hot for me to even consider him hot. “He’s fine, if you’re in to that kind of thing.”

“Interesting,” Ash said.

I glanced at Luke and he raised his eyebrows.

“What? I asked, raising my palms.

“Well, normally you make gagging sounds when I ask you if a guy is hot. Or you tell me that he smells like he hasn’t washed since before Robbie left Take That, the first time. Or that he walks with a limp, or—”

“Okay, I get the picture, funny girl.”

Luke was laughing. “It’s true though, Haven. ‘Fine’ is the equivalent of you saying that you want to lick him all over.”

“Well, I have no intention of licking him anywhere. You guys are gross,” I said as I got up and headed over to the kitchen. “No kissing while I turn my back for five seconds to get more booze.”

“Okay, we’ll skip straight to the sex,” Ash called after me.

Ash and Luke started to argue about which film to put on. I was still thinking about my tongue trailing down Harry’s chest.

My phone vibrating interrupted my inappropriate thought and my mouth went dry when I saw it was a text from Harry. Shit. That was a coincidence.

H: Sorry, can’t do Monday. Will have to rearrange or go without me.

What a fucker. Just when I thought he was a half-decent guy he went and pulled a stunt like that. I tossed my phone onto the table and Luke and Ash snapped their heads toward me.

“It’s nothing. Someone at work being a wanker.”

“Was it licky Harry?” Ash asked.

I threw a napkin at her. “You’re gross.”

“Come on Rapunzel, let down your golden hair and pour out the shots,” Ash said.

The call of tequila. Something I could never resist.

“Can I play with it?” she asked as I started pouring out too-full shot glasses.

“You are a freak,” I said. “Luke, you’re never to marry this girl, do you hear me?”

“Have you both forgotten that I’m living with Emma?”

“She’s just a phase,” Ash and I said in unison and then collapsed into laughter. Emma was okay, but I honestly couldn’t see him with her forever. She didn’t laugh enough. She didn’t make Luke laugh enough, and it always seemed to be him who was making all the compromises. I wanted my brother to be happy, and I wasn’t sure he was.

“If you don’t want me to play with it, perhaps you could have it cut and make a wig and I could have that?” Ash asked.

“You’re not playing with my hair and I’m not having it cut, you weirdo.”

“I’m not weird, you know I’ve always wanted your Rapunzel-like hair.”

Jake

I was pretty sure Haven would be mad at me for cancelling the Monday trip to the studio, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t miss this follow up meeting with Hal. Robert was fine with me setting my own hours, and Haven could go on her own. I didn’t need to be there every time she went, although she hadn’t exactly hit it off with Sandy. Or anyone, apparently.

“Are you okay? You’re frowning,” Beth said.

“Yeah, I’ve had to cancel on Haven on Monday because Hal wants me to meet with his corporate finance guy.”

“Haven’s the uptight one who’s writing the story on Sandy?”

I nodded. “I think she’ll struggle with Sandy on her own.”

“You’re a good man Jake.”

“Hardly, I’m letting her down.”

“Yeah, but at least you have the decency to feel bad about it.” Beth laughed and I grinned at her.

“I’m not sure that counts, but thanks for your faith. I better get going or I’m going to be late for my date with Millie and I’ll have another woman mad at me.” I scanned the room for my keys and wallet.