Page 69 of Star Struck

A tiny flash of smile. ‘I’m glad it was good for you.’ His eyes had softened a little; his mouth wasn’t that tight line any more. ‘For the record, I enjoyed it, too.’

‘No, you don’t understand. Sex is . . . well, let’s face it, unless it’s pretty spectacular it’s not the kind of thing you remember forever, is it? It all kind of blurs.’ My cheeks were heating up, I could feel it, and just hoped that it wasn’t making my scar glow like a beacon, then realised that Jack probably wouldn’t care even if it was. ‘At least, for me it has, with all the memory woo-woo that’s gone on.’

‘Oh,’ he said again, but there was almost a hint of a smile behind his eyes now. ‘You mean—’

‘My body knows I’m not a virgin, but my brain hasn’t quite caught on yet. That was the first sex I can remember, properly, in full, glorious detail.’ I gave him a slightly shy smile. ‘And it was all pretty glorious. You are one hell of a sexy guy, Mr Whitaker.’

That got him. He laughed and his face relaxed. ‘Well, likewise, Miss Threppel, you are one hell of a sexy woman.’

‘But you’re afraid of getting involved.’ I whispered it, so that he had to move his head closer to hear me, the laugh fading into a new, darker expression.

‘I’m afraid of a lot of things, Skye,’ he whispered back. ‘I started screwing up my life before I was even old enough to vote, and I haven’t let up since. The only things that have gone well have been the things I’ve done alone — it doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence that I will . . . would make a good partner.’

‘That’s not true though, is it? You’ve only remembered the things that you’ve done alone as being successful because that’s how you’ve needed to think of yourself. You are more than capable of being part of a team.’ My heart was squashing itself in behind my lungs, but this wasn’t stress, wasn’t some kind of panic attack, I knew now. This was love.

‘I locked myself up in ice to stop me feeling, because I’m so scared of what happens when I do, I’m scared of all the bad stuff that comes crashing down on me when I . . . All I can do is write, that is the only thing that works.’

‘The only thing you could control.’ Now his forehead was almost touching mine. ‘Loss of control, Jack. Isn’t that what this has all been about?’

He moved away so sharply that we almost cracked heads, and cleared his throat. ‘Felix is coming back to the States,’ he said. ‘Did you know? He’s flying back to the UK to sort stuff out and apply for his visas, but he’s got three months before filming starts so it should be fine. He and Jared are moving in together, don’t tell him I said so, but I think it’s the real thing. He’ll get his Green Card on the strength of working on the new series of Fallen Skies, and I think he’ll take off; he’s got that kind of innocent evil look that they’re loving right now. And the British accent, of course.’

‘Oh.’ I tried to keep pace with his mental switch, stop thinking about all those emotionally complicated things that he clearly couldn’t deal with. Tears bulged behind my eyes — he’d been so close to realising, so close to reaching inside that frozen exterior and finding the true core of himself. But obviously he’d find it easier to keep going as he was. Never dealing with it. Functioning, rather than living. And I’d thought he was stronger than that. ‘Right, yes, okay.’

Bugger. They wouldn’t let me fly home yet. And I doubted Felix would hang around and wait for me, so I’d have to fly back alone . . . Oh, sod it, after this week crowds and airports would be a picnic. At least they didn’t explode, or try to kill me. In fact, after everything that had happened here, I didn’t think I’d ever be scared of anything as simple as the outdoors or people again.

‘You’ll have to stay over here for a while longer without him. Will you be all right?’

I thought for a second. ‘I expect so. I’m learning more about myself all the time now; I don’t need to lean on Felix for old memories any more. It’s who I am now that matters, after all.’

Jack made a jerky movement, as though he’d jumped. ‘God,’ he said suddenly.

‘What? Are you all right?’ I stared at him. His head had come up and he’d stopped looking so hunched, but his eyes were wide.

‘Oh, yes, Skye. I am beginning to think I might be. What you said then, “it’s who I am now that matters.” It’s something I’ve been trying to get my head around. Something I’ve been trying to articulate to myself, but I’d overcomplicated it. Overthought it.’

‘Jack,’ I said gently, ‘you are rambling again.’

‘Yes’. But he wasn’t agreeing with me, he was agreeing with the person he was arguing with in his head. ‘Yes. Of course. It’s that simple.’ He leaned back in the chair, which put us level. The open collar of the white shirt hung loose, with at least the top three buttons undone and he slid his fingers inside it, fiddled for a moment and then brought his hand out with something dangling from his palm.

‘You’ve taken off the lace,’ I whispered. ‘Ryan’s lace.’

‘Er. Yep.’ Almost reverently he laid it on top of the bedside cupboard.

‘Why?’

‘Can we talk about it when I’m allowed to smoke again? I’m running out of legal things to shove in my mouth.’

‘No. Try. Concentrate.’

‘“It’s who I am now that matters.” You said it Skye. And this is who I am now. Me. Not dragging the memories of Ryan, all the bad stuff. Me.’ He moved in closer again. ‘Look. They reckon you’ll be fit to leave hospital by tomorrow, but you’re going to need to mend that ankle, no walking, that kind of thing, so you’ll need someone with you. Fly back with me. I’ll get your ticket changed, buy one myself . . . come up to my place, up on the moors, just for a break, a holiday. I can work up there on these scripts. I’ll need to come back over to tie up the loose ends but . . . ?’

‘Have you just done a complete 180, or wasn’t I listening properly?’

‘When Geth . . . when he jumped and I thought I’d lost you . . . God, I really need a cigarette . . . it made me think, reappraise, you know? But I was scared. Pinned down by what had happened in the past. But I have just decided I need to do what you did when you flew out here with Felix.’

‘What, take a stupendous amount of Valium?’

‘Step outside. Do it. As those godawful new-agey things would have it, “feel the fear and do it anyway”. I’m going to come clean. Do a couple of interviews, tell them about my past, about what I did to Ryan. Get in touch with his parents, talk to them, lance this horrible boil of dread that I’ve been living on top of all these years, but I need . . . I need you to help me. I’m terrified, Skye, terrified of not being able to love you, about trying to live without that ice block round my heart. I’m not good at pain; I run, I hide rather than face up to things, and you’re going to have screaming nightmares about falling off that roof for years but . . . hey.’ His eyes were so deep that looking into them was like falling all over again. ‘We could try.’