Page 10 of Worth Every Game
Jack must be feeling the same way because he blurts out, “Did you get your tip?”
“Yes. Thanks. Everyone was very grateful.”
“Everyone?”
He looks genuinely confused, and it’s curiously endearing. I rush to explain, driven by an unexpected need to ease his discomfort. “We pool the tips and share them at the end of the night.”
“Oh.” He taps his index finger on the wheel. “If I’d known that, I’d have left more.” He doesn’t look my way, but I can sense his awareness of me like a spectral presence. Somehow, it feels like he’s scrutinizing me without so much as a glance in my direction.
My chest constricts, and breathing feels suddenly hard. Tension seeps into the air, and this time it’s me who cracks it. “Is this a Bentley?”
“Yup.”
I snort, and Jack presses his lips together but says nothing. I shift my wet hair off the back of my neck and let it hang down my shoulder. “I didn’t realise it was you when the car pulled up. I thought you’d have gone home with Lydia.”
“How do you know I didn’t?” His eyes flick up to the rear-view mirror as he shifts lanes.
I check the time on the dashboard: 2.22 am. He’s had more than enough time to take someone home, fuck them, and come back again.Ugh. I rub my hands over one another in my lap. “I don’t.”
Jack nods, but I sense that he’s merely acknowledging my admission of ignorance, rather than confirming or denying anything. Silence engulfs us for a few moments before he speaks again. “What were you going to do? Walk home in the rain?”
“Night bus.”
A laugh rumbles in his throat. “You should have called me.”
Called him? When have I ever called him?He’s called me once or twice when he couldn’t get hold of Kate, but it would never have occurred to me to call him, especially not when I knew he was on a date with another woman, and the fact that he’s suggesting it feels… weird.My heart flutters.What the hell?
“My phone died,” I add, although why I’m explaining myself, I don’t know. “What were you doing? Curb-crawling?” I imbue my voice with as much disdain as I can muster, despite the fact I’m still flustered at the idea that he wanted me to call him.
“Yeah. I’ve been scouring the streets for a suitably bedraggled woman to drag into my car and destroy the leather seats with.”
I turn sharply to look at him, but his strong profile looks straight ahead. There’s not a trace of humour on his face.
“Seriously?”
He shoots me a glance before his eyes roll up to the roof. “No, not seriously. I came back to the Marchmont, but it was closed.”
My heart gives an almighty thud, so hard I immediately panic that Jack can hear it, or maybe feel the vibration of it through the car seat.What the fuck is going on?I don’t like this man. But a little balloon of hope is swelling in my chest.Maybe he came back to hear me sing.“Why?”
Jack frowns, and the moment stretches a fraction too long before he finally admits, “I forgot my coat.”
Pop goes the balloon.Thank God Jack has his eyes on the road because I’m pretty sure he’d see the disappointment on my face, and I would rather die than let him know he can incite that kind of feeling in me.
3
JACK
Ipark up outside the Clapham house. There isn’t a soul on the street, given the weather and the time of night. It’s not raining anymore, but the streets are slick and water runs in streams at the sides of the roads, trickling down into the drains.
I get out of the car at the same time as Elly does. I grab her guitar from the backseat and in a moment, the two of us are standing at the front door of the three-storey townhouse. Elly and Kate share the top floor flat. Normally, I rent the other floors, but they’re already empty given my intention to renovate. No lights shine from any windows. The house looks deserted.
Standing side-by-side, I’m struck by how tiny Elly is compared to me—she barely reaches my shoulder. Her enormous curls are slicked down in winding strands at the side of her head, and her coat is soaked through.
Guilt hits hard. I was supposed to watch this woman perform tonight and I didn’t stay. I’d kinda hoped I could swing back to the Marchmont and Elly would still be playing, but I’d totally lost track of time, although God knows why because my date with Lydia was a disaster. I had to follow through on ouragreement to attend the party with her, but I dragged her to the Marchmont first because I told Elly I’d be there.
Fucking pointless, the whole thing, given I never got to hear Elly sing. I would have been better off not going to the Marchmont at all, or cancelling the date with Lydia, but I didn’t want to show up solo to hear my sister’s friend perform because that seemed way too intimate. Too much pressure. Lydia was a buffer, of sorts.
When I extricated myself from her clutches, I drove back to the Marchmont. I figured that, maybe, Elly might still be there, and I could apologise, but the place was locked. I didn’t lose my coat. I never even took one out tonight. I don’t know why I lied, but I’m not about to tell Elly that I came back for her.