the sheet more tightly and pulled the trailing section forward, making sure her back and legs were fully covered. Her chin shot up in an attempt to make her look a lot more in control than she felt. ‘Hi. I’m Hayley.’
‘Yeah, I know. Tom said.’ He kept on grinning as if he’d witnessed exactly what had gone down in the bedroom seven hours earlier.
Oh, God, shoot me now. ‘And you’re …?’
He jumped to his feet as if her question had suddenly woken him up and kick-started his manners. ‘Jared. Jared Perkins.’
‘Jared.’ She took a breath to slow down her delivery and keep a handle on her embarrassment. ‘Is Tom home?’
He shook his sandy-coloured head. ‘No.’
‘Are you expecting him back soon?’
‘He’s at work.’ He picked up a printed piece of paper and consulted it. ‘He’s got an evening lecture and I’m picking him up at seven.’
‘Right.’ Her brain started churning over times and dates. Tom finished work at seven and she started work at seven. ‘Did he leave a message?’
‘No.’
Disappointment slugged her and she tried to brush it away. It wasn’t like they’d made an arrangement to meet. Rational thought zoomed in, making her practical. She was standing dressed in nothing but a sheet for a man who wasn’t even here. It was time to go home. She ducked back into the bedroom, dumped the sheet, pulled on her clothes and ran her fingers through her hair before snagging it back into a ponytail with a hair-tie she found in her pocket. She didn’t look in the mirror because it would be far too depressing and gave up a quick wish that she didn’t meet anyone she knew on the walk home, which was a sure-fire guarantee that she would.
When she returned to the living area, Jared was sitting back at the table, reading one of the textbooks. In his bright-coloured board shorts and surfing T-shirt, he looked as if he belonged more on Bondi Beach than inside, studying. Who was he? Tom’s brother? Nephew? She realised she didn’t know anything about Tom except he’d been a neurosurgeon and now he wasn’t.
‘Do you live here, Jared?’
‘Nah. Wouldn’t mind it, though.’ He swung his arm out toward the balcony. ‘It’s an awesome view.’
‘It is.’ What exactly was his connection to Tom? ‘Do you work for Tom?’
He shook his head emphatically. ‘No, but I do stuff for him. Driving, shopping, anything he wants.’
She guessed Jared was in his late teens or early twenties and his broad accent and lack of social etiquette hinted at the possibility that he came from a less affluent suburb. Being on call for a taciturn blind man without any financial incentive struck her as unusual. ‘That’s very good of you.’
Jared’s shoulders rolled back and he sat up straighter, as if she’d just offended him. ‘No, it isn’t. Tom’s an awesome bloke and he saved my life.’ The sincerity in his words put her rightfully back in her place.
She aimed for a conciliatory tone. ‘Everyone at The Harbour says he was a brilliant surgeon.’
‘Yeah.’ He fiddled with the edge of the textbook, folding up the corner of the page.
Hayley waited for him to say more, to say exactly what operation Tom had performed on him, but he didn’t elaborate and instead stuck his finger back on a line of text in the book and stared at it with a deep frown.
Okay. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’ She walked to the door and had her hand on the handle when Jared said, ‘You any good at chemistry?’
She stopped and turned to face him. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Chemistry.’ His voice rose slightly with aggression, and his previously friendly and open face tightened. He picked up a sheaf of papers covered in red pen and waved them at her. ‘The teacher says if I want to get into medicine I need an A and Tom says it’s easy but it bloody isn’t. You’re a doctor, right? So you get chemistry.’
His blue eyes held the duelling expressions of ‘I’m a macho guy’ with ‘I need help, Mum’. She realised it had cost him something to ask her. Just like she knew it cost Tom something every time he had to ask for help. She was struck by the similarity and she knew she couldn’t ignore his request.
She walked back to the table and dropped her bag on a chair. ‘Can you make coffee, Jared?’
‘Yeah. Tom’s got a machine.’
She smiled. ‘Good. You make me a latte and I’ll read what’s causing you problems and see if I can help. Deal?’
Relief washed over his face. ‘Deal.’
‘If we grab some take-away, Jared, I can help you with that chemistry homework when we get home,’ Tom offered as he fiddled with the seat-belt buckle, finally sliding it into the holder with a snap.
‘Thanks, but I got it sorted. But if you’re buying, I’ll stay for take-away as long as it’s pizza.’
‘You finished the chemistry?’ Tom wished his voice hadn’t risen in surprise. He knew how hard Jared was working and chemistry wasn’t something that came easily to him, but he had dogged determination and that often served a person better than natural ability without the drive to succeed.
‘Don’t sound so surprised, old man. You’re not the only person good at this stuff.’
Jared’s cocky tone was in stark contrast to the down-in-the-mouth voice he’d used earlier in the day when Tom had told him he could help him, but not until after work. He instinctively knew something else was now at play. ‘Enough of the old man, kiddo.’ He hit the word, teasing the youth back. ‘So, just like that, you totally understand electrochemical series order, which five hours ago had you ready to quit school?’
‘Yep.’
‘Good for you.’
A moment of silence passed between them and then Jared said, ‘Hayley helped.’
Hayley.
Hayley, who’d been fast asleep in his bed when he’d left his apartment. He’d left it way earlier than necessary because he hadn’t wanted to be there when she woke up. Hell, he’d even invited Jared over under the guise of a fast internet connection and a quiet place to study well away from the noise of younger siblings, but the invitation had been all about Jared being in the apartment with him if Hayley woke up before he left for work. Insurance so they wouldn’t be alone together again, because if they had been he didn’t trust himself not to take her back to bed.
Blood pooled in his lap. Hell, just the thought of her had him wanting to retract his decision, but when he’d been sighted he’d never slept with a woman more than once. Well, not since he’d been a second-year registrar. He’d had one short-lived relationship with Karen, a radiographer, but he’d found within three months of dating that she’d had expectations of being considered first in his life, well ahead of study and his job. It had been a distraction he hadn’t wanted or needed. At first putting study first had been all about fear of failure and fear of poverty, but then it had become so
