mind.’
‘No. I’m sorry. I feel really, really stupid. It was just a shock,’ I said. I sipped the cold cola and sighed as the sweetness burst across my tongue. I felt a little stronger. A little less transparent.
His eyes were serious. I realised he’d been in a jovial mood since we’d met, because the seriousness I now found in his gaze changed his entire face. ‘What happened to you?’
I looked away, suddenly fascinated with the walls, the costumes, the analogue clock ticking time away on the wall. It was nearing dinner time. We’d been wandering for that long? ‘Nothing,’ I lied.
He pressed his lips together, looking unsure. Knowing what I knew about him, he was probably deciding whether he should let that pass or press me. His fingers continued to sweep back and forth along my pulse point. Even though it had slowed it was still somewhat erratic. I was pretty sure the erratic part was due to him touching me that way.
‘That was quite a reaction to noise. I’ve seen people react that way before,’ he said. He dropped my hand and took the soda from me. Then he placed the cold can in the hand he’d just released and claimed my other hand. There he was, once again sweeping his thumb back and forth across my pulse point. I felt that touch far beyond my wrist. I felt it in my belly and like a bright ball of fire in my chest. I felt it like a thundering heartbeat between my legs.
I bit my lip and tried to focus on what he was saying.
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ In the dim light of the office I could see his eyes had darkened but that’s all they appeared to be. Dark eyes. The green was completely hidden by the gloom. A whistle of wind could be heard and I had a bright, vivid image of the whole domed roof of the Rotunda lifting up and off the building. The worst-case scenario. A scene straight out of a tainted version of
Oz
.
I refused to ask where he’d seen reactions like that. Something told me it would make a sticky situation stickier.
‘A few friends who’ve served overseas. One who was in a robbery when she was young. I believe the appropriate term is PTSD, nowadays.’
I shook my head. ‘Oh, no. Nothing as horrible as that,’ I whispered.
But I was lying. That was exactly what one shrink had called it. Though, not long after, I quickly decided therapy was not for me.
‘So what is it? If it’s not horrible, surely you can share.’ He smiled and it was nearly a sad smile.
‘I … when I was young I …’ My throat grew tight and my heart pounded. A tremor had started in my body and since he had my hand in his grip there was no hiding it from him. I pressed my legs together as if that could steady me. ‘It hardly ever bothers me!’ I blurted. ‘It was just the storm frightened me, is all. I’m really sorry.’
I was panicking.
‘It’s OK,’ he said. He let my hand go and placed his at the small of my back. Small circles. That was what I felt. Small soothing circles.
Small soothing circles for the crazy woman …
‘What was it?’
‘I was …’ I blinked furiously. I did not want to cry. I did not want to cry at all. I’d do anything to keep the tears crowding my eyes from tumbling down. ‘I was left alone. One night. When I was very young. And it was bad. That’s all. Just a misunderstanding. It was something that couldn’t be avoided. And I just –’
‘Clover –’
‘Please,’ I whispered. ‘Please don’t make me.’
He looked surprised. It had never occurred to him, I don’t think, that by pressing the issue he was forcing me to do something against my will.
‘Christ,’ he muttered and pulled me against him. He simply held me there as the last of the tremors worked through me. His arm around my lower back. His heartbeat steady and calming beneath my ear. He smelled so good. Like strong man, and some kind of cologne, and sanity.
The last part made me laugh.
‘I’m sorry, Clover,’ he said tugging the end of a lock of hair.
I looked up, hesitant
‘No. I’m sorry. I feel really, really stupid. It was just a shock,’ I said. I sipped the cold cola and sighed as the sweetness burst across my tongue. I felt a little stronger. A little less transparent.
His eyes were serious. I realised he’d been in a jovial mood since we’d met, because the seriousness I now found in his gaze changed his entire face. ‘What happened to you?’
I looked away, suddenly fascinated with the walls, the costumes, the analogue clock ticking time away on the wall. It was nearing dinner time. We’d been wandering for that long? ‘Nothing,’ I lied.
He pressed his lips together, looking unsure. Knowing what I knew about him, he was probably deciding whether he should let that pass or press me. His fingers continued to sweep back and forth along my pulse point. Even though it had slowed it was still somewhat erratic. I was pretty sure the erratic part was due to him touching me that way.
‘That was quite a reaction to noise. I’ve seen people react that way before,’ he said. He dropped my hand and took the soda from me. Then he placed the cold can in the hand he’d just released and claimed my other hand. There he was, once again sweeping his thumb back and forth across my pulse point. I felt that touch far beyond my wrist. I felt it in my belly and like a bright ball of fire in my chest. I felt it like a thundering heartbeat between my legs.
I bit my lip and tried to focus on what he was saying.
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ In the dim light of the office I could see his eyes had darkened but that’s all they appeared to be. Dark eyes. The green was completely hidden by the gloom. A whistle of wind could be heard and I had a bright, vivid image of the whole domed roof of the Rotunda lifting up and off the building. The worst-case scenario. A scene straight out of a tainted version of
Oz
.
I refused to ask where he’d seen reactions like that. Something told me it would make a sticky situation stickier.
‘A few friends who’ve served overseas. One who was in a robbery when she was young. I believe the appropriate term is PTSD, nowadays.’
I shook my head. ‘Oh, no. Nothing as horrible as that,’ I whispered.
But I was lying. That was exactly what one shrink had called it. Though, not long after, I quickly decided therapy was not for me.
‘So what is it? If it’s not horrible, surely you can share.’ He smiled and it was nearly a sad smile.
‘I … when I was young I …’ My throat grew tight and my heart pounded. A tremor had started in my body and since he had my hand in his grip there was no hiding it from him. I pressed my legs together as if that could steady me. ‘It hardly ever bothers me!’ I blurted. ‘It was just the storm frightened me, is all. I’m really sorry.’
I was panicking.
‘It’s OK,’ he said. He let my hand go and placed his at the small of my back. Small circles. That was what I felt. Small soothing circles.
Small soothing circles for the crazy woman …
‘What was it?’
‘I was …’ I blinked furiously. I did not want to cry. I did not want to cry at all. I’d do anything to keep the tears crowding my eyes from tumbling down. ‘I was left alone. One night. When I was very young. And it was bad. That’s all. Just a misunderstanding. It was something that couldn’t be avoided. And I just –’
‘Clover –’
‘Please,’ I whispered. ‘Please don’t make me.’
He looked surprised. It had never occurred to him, I don’t think, that by pressing the issue he was forcing me to do something against my will.
‘Christ,’ he muttered and pulled me against him. He simply held me there as the last of the tremors worked through me. His arm around my lower back. His heartbeat steady and calming beneath my ear. He smelled so good. Like strong man, and some kind of cologne, and sanity.
The last part made me laugh.
‘I’m sorry, Clover,’ he said tugging the end of a lock of hair.
I looked up, hesitant
Similar Books
