Blindsided (15 page)

Chapter
Nineteen – It Would Take The Zombie Apocalypse

Jesse

When Richard called and told me I needed to go home, I wanted to tell him to go to hell. I had the greatest of respect for him as a manager, but off-season, I thought my decisions were my own. However, he wanted me back in L.A as soon as possible. What sucked the most was … I knew he was right. I had to go back. I needed to get some answers about my knee, and I couldn’t get those in London. Richard wasn’t prepared to risk my career by letting me stay in the U.K a minute longer than I had to. I didn’t want to risk it either.

But I didn’t want to say goodbye to Isabelle. Sure, I knew our time was running out, but we were supposed to have one more week.

Leaving early threw everything into chaos. After arranging new flights, I still had to talk to the police again, and Isabelle had to talk to them too. Both Izzy and Georgia missed their last day of college because, after Georgia’s confession, neither of them were up to it. It was twice as bad for Georgia, since Elliott dumped her after she told him she’d slept with Leon.

A late Tuesday evening visit from the police informed us that Mischa had – under pressure from her parents – admitted the truth about what happened at the party. The police decided that, as she had no prior offences to her name and hadn’t intended to cause any serious harm to anyone, she would be let off with a caution, provided she wrote a letter of apology to me for her actions. It didn’t seem like enough punishment for everything I stood to lose, but having it all out in the open was one less weight for me to carry.

Wednesday morning Richard called. He worked tirelessly to make sure the newspaper story about me being drunk and beating up Leon was retracted with a full apology. The threat of a lawsuit quickly shifted them in to action, but they wanted to talk to me to get the truth behind the story. I didn’t want anything to do with it, so in order to keep them quiet, I confirmed that my drink had been spiked and said nothing more.

It wasn’t until Thursday that everything finally started to settle down, only leaving me one full day to pack, and fit in as much time with Isabelle as possible. The most we’d managed so far were a couple of hours in her room.

On Thursday afternoon, Isabelle helped me to cram everything back in my suitcase. I couldn’t do it very easily on my own on crutches, and as much as she wanted to deny I was leaving, she didn’t want to see me struggle.

“I know the last few days have been … manic,” she said, handing me a shirt she’d just folded, “but I think we should do something special tomorrow night.”

“Sounds good,” I told her. “But I thought you weren’t allowed out.”

Isabelle and Georgia argued with their parents about being grounded. They figured at seventeen years old they were well past that kind of punishment. Turned out, Janet and Andrew disagreed. The only time they’d allowed either of them out of the house was when they helped with food shopping, and when they were asked to mail some Christmas cards.

“I talked to Mum,” she said. “I appealed to her inner romantic, and she said she’s fine with us going out tomorrow night for dinner with Hunter and Willow.”

“What about Georgia?”

Isabelle shook her head. “That’s a no go. But when I asked Georgia, she said she didn’t want to come. It probably wouldn’t be much fun for her anyway without Elliott.”

“They’re really through, huh?”

“Yeah. He was never going to forgive her for sleeping with someone else, but Leon? That was a real slap in the face.”

As angry as I was with Georgia initially, I felt bad for her. She did the right thing in the end, but it had left her without a boyfriend and a best friend. If you could call Mischa a best friend.

“You think I could persuade your mom to let her come with us?” I asked. “We’ve all been doing stuff together the whole time we’ve been here. It doesn’t seem fair to leave her out.”

Isabelle smiled sadly. “You could try. But as much as Mum loves you, she’s still really angry with Georgia. I thought she would have calmed down a bit by now.”

“She has calmed down a little. They’re talking at least.”

“Yeah.”

I wouldn’t have been surprised if Janet and Andrew were counting down the days until I left. I’d managed to bring chaos on their family in just two short weeks. As much as I didn’t want to say goodbye to Isabelle, part of me was glad to know that once I’d gone, they’d be left alone, and wouldn’t have journalists lurking on their doorstep anymore.

Isabelle gently slapped my suitcase shut, and shoved it to one side so she could sit beside me.

“Enough packing,” she said. “It’s depressing.”

“Okay,” I laughed. “What shall we do instead?”

“Well, I was thinking that, as Dad’s at work, Mum’s shopping again, Hunter’s out with Willow and Georgia is taking a nap, we should do something we’ve never done before.”

Her eyes sparkled playfully, and her lips curved into the kind of grin that made my heart hammer in my chest. For a second, I was transported back to Mischa’s party, when we danced together. That was the last time she’d looked at me that way.

“Oh really?” I asked. “What did you have in mind?”

Her grin widened. “I think I can guess what
you’re
thinking, and that’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” I told her, and just when she was about to say something more, I reached for her waist and pulled her onto my lap, kissing her as I slowly lowered her backwards onto the bed. A searing pain shot through my knee, but it was worth it. I could feel her giggling beneath me, and I smiled. “Is this not what you meant?”

“No! But actually, now we’re here …”

“No, no,” I said, backing away, “I wouldn’t want to ruin your plans!”

“Shut up.”

She grabbed hold of my t-shirt and pulled me back to her, kissing me with a new level of intensity. Her arms slid around my back, and my hand gently brushed the soft skin of her cheek. I never got tired of the way it felt to be pressed against her. No matter how many times she snuggled in to me, or how many times I kissed her, I always felt the same way. I didn’t want to let her go.

The tiniest moan escaped her lips, and she held on to me more tightly. A second before, we’d been laughing, but she wasn’t messing around anymore and it took me by surprise. Not in a bad way. Honestly, it was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced, and all she did was whimper, but it was so sudden. I pulled back just a little so I could see her face. The top two buttons of her shirt had popped open, exposing way more of her than I’d seen before.

Well, since she wore that dress the first night we went out. Somehow, she looked way more sexy when she wasn’t trying so hard.

“Why have you stopped kissing me?” she asked. Her cheeks were a little flushed, and I fought the desire to keep kissing her because I needed to know what had happened. Why the girl who was too nervous to kiss me two weeks ago was suddenly taking the lead.

“I just … I think maybe we should slow down for a second.”

Her face reddened more, and she wriggled out from underneath me, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You’re right,” she said, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

I didn’t have to look at her to know exactly what she was going through her mind and I sat up, placing my hands gently on her shoulders. She shrugged me off.

“Izzy.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I get it.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“We don’t need to make a big deal of it. I embarrassed myself, let’s move on.”

I put my hands on her shoulders again. “You didn’t embarrass yourself. I didn’t stop because I didn’t like it, I stopped because you surprised me. And I didn’t want to rush into anything you’re not ready for.”

I’m such a girl.

“You don’t have to say that,” Isabelle said. “I know I’m probably nothing like the other girls who throw themselves at you.”

“You didn’t throw yourself at me, but you’re right. You’re nothing like those girls.”

She stood up, still refusing to look at me. “I’m going to my room,” she said, coldly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Izzy, wait!”

If I could have got to my feet without the use of crutches, I would have pulled her back to me. Instead, all I could do was make sure I explained myself clearly. Isabelle stood in the doorway, still with her back to me.

“After everything that’s happened over the last few days, how can you think that I don’t want you?” I asked.

“Because I hurt you. Because you just said I’m not like the girls in L.A, and because I obviously have no idea what to do with boys.”

How did we get to this? We’d been so close since we sorted things out, and now she was questioning how I felt? I wanted to be mad at her for doubting me when I’d only ever been honest with her, but I understood. I just wished she remembered how much of a risk it was for me too.

“You think this is so easy for me,” I said. “You act like you’re the only who stands to get hurt.”

“You rejected me.”

“That wasn’t a rejection. That was a time out. Maybe nothing would have happened, and things wouldn’t have gone any further than kissing, but you are too important to me to risk getting carried away and doing something we might both regret.”

“So you’d regret it?”

“I’d regret it if I didn’t know for sure we were both ready.”

I watched Isabelle’s shoulders rise and fall a few times, like she was taking deep breaths, and eventually she turned to face me again.

“How do you know when you’re ready?” she asked. “I mean, aside from the obvious physical signs. How do you know?”

It was a big question. And the truth about how I knew I was ready the first time I had sex was probably not one she’d be impressed by. But she always demanded the truth.

“With Taylor, it was pretty simple,” I said. “She made it very clear that she wanted to sleep with me, and I was horny.”

“So … what, I’m just not doing it right?”

Her cheeks flamed again, and I said, “When Taylor made her move on me, she was doing it because she’s one of those girls who knows how to get what she wants, and it wasn’t even me she really wanted. But I didn’t think about that, all I saw was this really hot girl who seemed to like me. You’re not her, and I know better now. I won’t have sex with you just because we happen to have the house to ourselves. It’ll happen when we’re both sure.”

“We’ve only got one day left, Jesse.”

“Have we?”

“Haven’t we?”

I reached out my hand, and she sighed and walked back into my room. Her fingers laced through mine as she sat beside me.

“I don’t know,” I told her. “I didn’t come here expecting to meet someone like you, and it really sucks that I have to go home and leave you behind. I can’t even … I can’t imagine I’ll ever meet anyone like you again. But we live so far apart, I can’t exactly ask you not to date other guys, just so we can get together once, maybe twice a year if we’re lucky.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too. And I feel the same. But that isn’t the reason I tried to jump you.”

I laughed at her blunt phrasing, and said, “So why did you?”

“Because I wanted to. I wanted to see how it felt to be brave and to be in control. Turns out, I’m not very good at it.”

Instead of telling her with words that she more than managed to do what she intended, I crushed my lips against hers, drawing her in closer to me. I hadn’t planned to kiss her so hard, but dammit, I needed her to know how much I wanted her, even if it felt too soon to act on it. She wound her arms around my neck, making me forget why I’d stopped her before.

She
was
different than Taylor. Different in every way. Isabelle was smaller, curvier, softer. When she kissed me, she wasn’t
just
kissing me. We were, I don’t know … connecting. I never felt that with Taylor, and I never thought it was weird.

I guess you can’t miss what you never had.

“Jesse,” Isabelle breathed against my neck. “If we’re going to be sensible, you need to stop kissing me like that.”

“Sorry.” I kissed her one more time. “Maybe we should find something to do.”

“Yes. But now everything we do will seem really dull.”

“Well, what were you going to suggest before?”

She tilted her head to one side, in a way that made her look so cute, I had to force myself not to kiss her again. “You know how we have these family traditions? Like eating together on Sundays, and decorating the house together at Christmas? Well, another one of our favourites is making gingerbread men. Georgia and I used to do it when we were little, and I thought, when she wakes up from her nap, we could make some. If nothing else, it might put Mum in a good mood that we did something useful this afternoon.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, backing away, “You want me, a big, macho soccer star, to bake gingerbread men?”

Isabelle laughed. “You’re not that macho.”

She was right. When Georgia woke up, she and Isabelle mocked my natural ability to decorate gingerbread men with icing which pretty much sealed my fate as a beta male. It was totally worth it to see Georgia laughing again. Izzy refused to let her be unhappy, so she cranked up the Christmas music, and danced with Georgia through the whole process. We were all covered in flour when we were done, and I thought Janet might flip out over the mess. When she came home, the girls were singing an out of tune but very enthusiastic version of
Santa Claus Is Coming To Town
,  and mad as she was at Georgia, she couldn’t help but smile at her daughters.