What the Lightning Sees: Part Two (16 page)

“Baby, it feels so good.”

I nodded, unable to form words.

He pushed again and I was full of him. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. I was his entirely. After a few seconds, he started to move above me, rubbing, pulling, twisting. His muscles under my fingers hardened and his mouth set in a straight line as if he were putting everything he had into the moment. His angle shifted slightly and it set off the first signal of my climax—a deep, intense rumbling from the center of me.

“Jake,” I said as I found the only word I would ever need. “Jake, Jake, Jake.” I was being pulled under, drowning in him. My orgasm flashed across my body and my muscles contracted around him a second before he cried out. He thrust once more, quick and hard, and then collapsed on top of me.

“Stay,” I said as he shifted to his elbows. “Don’t move. Not yet.” He buried his head in my neck and pushed our bodies together.

“So, California, huh?” I asked.

“I’m cancelling and you’re going to call in sick for a week so we can do what we just did all day, every day.”

I laughed. “Neither of those two things are happening.”

“Are you sure? Do I need to remind you of what just went on in here?”

I shook my head and took a mouthful of noodles. When we’d finally come up for air we’d managed to order Chinese food. Jake insisted on ordering a meal for four on the basis we’d need our strength.

“I swear to God, I have no desire to go to Palo Alto anymore. Not when I can stay here and worship your incredible body. Thank goodness I made my money before I met you, otherwise we’d have nothing. I can never concentrate properly on anything else, ever again.”

“You’re crazy.”

“You’re crazy beautiful.” He leaned over and kissed me.

“What time’s your flight?” I asked.

“I told you, I’m not going.”

I rolled my eyes. “What time?”

“Tomorrow night. Why don’t you come with me?”

I loved that he wanted me to come with him so badly. It made me feel warm and comfortable. “You know I can’t, and you’re only gone a few days, right?”

He scowled and I laughed at him.

“Think of it as another little road bump. We’ll be over it by the end of the week,” I said.

How did I get so lucky? I’d thought of him as some spoiled, cocky rich boy when he was anything but. He was kind, hardworking and so good looking it should be illegal. Best of all, he seemed to know me.

Jake

My cell buzzed in my pocket as I hit the fresh air coming out of Haven’s building the next day. I checked my watch. I had a lot to do before my flight. Absentmindedly, I glanced at the screen. Millie again. Ignoring her apparently hadn’t worked, so I took the call.

“Millie,” I answered.

“Finally. I’ve been trying to reach you for a week now.”

“Well, I’m here now. What can I help you with?” I looked up and down the street, working out where I’d parked my car.

“Don’t be so cold, Harry. Aren’t you pleased to hear from me?”

She definitely wanted something.

“I’m heading to the airport. I haven’t got much time and I’m about to start driving, so I can’t talk. Can I call you back?”

“I need to speak to you properly. Can you pop round before your flight?”

“What? No. If you’ve got something to say, you can say it now.” She really did think the world revolved around her. I didn’t want to see her, and I had no time before leaving for the US.

“This isn’t the kind of conversation you have over the phone,” she said. What did that mean? I stayed silent. I wasn’t giving in to her. “I’m pregnant . . . and it’s yours.”

My breath caught in my throat. Had I heard her right?

“Harry?”

“What? We always used a condom. There’s no way it’s mine.”

“There hasn’t been anyone since you, and condoms aren’t always effective. I’m sure I remember that time after that party—you were drunk—you didn’t have a condom but you said you’d pull out.” She was rambling, her voice breathy and panicked. My head started to spin, trying to break down what she was saying. This couldn’t be happening.

“What? That didn’t happen, Millie. I don’t get drunk and I don’t fuck without using something.” Not before last night. Haven had been the first. I was sure of that.

I ran through Millie’s and my times together. No split condoms, no condoms that came off. Nothing unusual. I was OCD careful about expiration dates. This couldn’t be happening.

Millie started to cry. I’d never known her to cry. “I found out last week, Harry, and I’m so alone. I always thought I’d be married. Please come round and talk. We’re going to have a baby.”

Shit.

That road bump had turned into a sinkhole.

I didn’t remember any of my journey home. I had driven, but I’d been on autopilot in the thirty minutes since Millie had called. Pregnant? How did that happen? What should I do?

As I opened my front door, I slung my keys onto the hall table and found my way to the sofa. My brain was fuzzy and I couldn’t think about anything for more than five seconds before some other consequence overtook me. Could I get a paternity test? Would I have to marry her? What did it all mean for me and Haven? How would Beth react, or worse, my father? Fuck. I pushed my hands through my hair.

The only thing I did know was that I couldn’t see Millie, not yet. I couldn’t tell Haven, not until I could formulate a coherent thought. I didn’t want to tell Beth. I just wanted to run away to California and pretend it wasn’t happening.

My cell vibrated against my hip.

Haven: I’ll miss you. Call me when you’re checked in at the airport.

Fear sat on my chest, squeezing and pushing. How could I speak to her? What could I possibly say? She needed me to be strong. She needed me to reassure her, but I had nothing. I was empty.

I dove back into my thoughts, and the next thing I was conscious of was the buzzing of the intercom.

“Hello?” I said, praying it wasn’t Haven or Beth or anyone.

“Mr. Harrison, this is your driver. Do you need a hand with your luggage?” Shit, my car to take me to the airport. I looked at my watch. Where had the last hour gone? I’d not even packed a bag.

“No thanks, I’ll be down shortly.” I looked around the apartment. I needed to pack in a hurry.

Haven

I pressed cancel on my phone and leant forward on the kitchen counter. Rain started to tap against my windows. I pulled the blind down so I didn’t have to see it. I hadn’t left a voicemail. I didn’t really have anything to say, but I’d expected him to be through security by now. Where was he? Anxiety nudged at me. Maybe he’d boarded already and forgotten to call me. If I didn’t speak to him before his flight, I wouldn’t speak to him until tomorrow, or maybe even a few days from now because of time differences and our schedules.

I had little chance of sleep; I rarely slept through a storm and my mind was too full of things that might go wrong while Jake was in California. Why hadn’t he called? That question gave permission for the rest of my doubts to break through. Was I strong enough, good enough, patient enough? I pulled out various liquids and gels, sponges and mops from my cupboard. I needed purpose and distraction. Leading up to my exams at University, I would spend all night cleaning bathrooms, communal kitchens, floors—anything I could find. It gave me a sense of order that controlled my stress levels and gave me space to think. I had crawled half way into my china cupboard to reach the back wall with my cloth when my phone started to ring. I banged my head as I fumbled for the source of the sound in my jeans pocket.

“Shit,” I said as I answered.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, I hit my head. I’m fine,” I said, rubbing what was bound to become a lump overnight. It felt good to hear his voice.

“What on?” he asked.

“Cupboards. I’ve been cleaning.”

“You’re cleaning? What?” he asked.

“Kitchen cupboards,” I said, trying to sound if that was the most normal thing in the world to be doing so close to midnight.

There was a silence for just a moment longer than there should have been. I shouldn’t have said anything. I forgot that he saw me so clearly—he would know that I was anxious about his trip.

“I’m sorry I’m not there,” he said as the line crackled. Immediately I felt guilty. I shouldn’t have said anything; I didn’t want him to feel bad.

“Don’t be. You have to work, Jake, and you’ll be back soon.”

“Yeah, about that. I might have to extend my trip,” he said quietly. My heart sank. I missed him already. I wanted to pepper him with questions, to ask him why, try to find a solution so he could do what he needed to remotely and come back to me sooner not later.

“Oh,” was all I managed.

“I don’t know yet. I need to think,” he said.

Think?
“Is everything okay?” I asked him.

“Sure. Of course,” he replied and we fell quiet, sounds of the imminent storm growing around me. Something was bothering him. Jake was never silent if he thought I needed him, and he knew I did. “I just might need an extra week or so in the US. I might go and see my father. I’ve not seen him in a while and . . . you know.”

Last night Jake was all for canceling his trip because he didn’t want to be away from me and now he was extending it and going to see his father? It didn’t make sense . . . I could feel a distance unraveling between us that was wider than miles. Was he keeping something from me? Was he pulling back?

“I’m boarding, so I need to go,” he said before I got a chance to say anything in reply.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to miss you. You have my heart, so bring it back safely.”

I heard his breath at the other end of the line before he spoke. “Me too. I’ve got to go.”

The phone went dead and I was left alone with nothing but the rumble of thunder in my head. However loud and dark they got, storms passed, they were temporary, weren’t they?

I was just thinking too much. Jake had always been honest with me and if there was something wrong, he would tell me, I trusted him. I just had to get through this next few days without him and then he would be back and everything would be okay. When we were together everything made sense.

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