his chest and abs sculpted so perfectly that she wondered if it were possible for her insides to burn, as well. Then she cleared her throat and told herself that she had seen him like this before. There was no reason to panic.
She took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, I just need to get the first-aid kit.’ She gestured to her hand and was quite proud of the way she’d managed to put words together in the calm tone her voice had taken.
Which all went out the window when he immediately walked to her and took her hand in his.
‘What happened?’
‘I...I burned myself.’ Her mind was whirling at the feel of her hand in his, at the contact between them—however minimal. But her heart was the problem—it was thumping at a rhythm she thought she couldn’t possibly sustain, merely because of his proximity.
‘Still a clumsy cook, I see. Even when you’re just heating pizza,’ he said softly, and then he led her into the bathroom.
She had no choice but to stand there as he reached for the first-aid kit. He pulled out the soothing gel and spread it gently over her burn, and the heat went from her hand to the rest of her. His body was still warm from the shower, and she could smell his body wash—the same kind he’d used before they had broken up. The same kind that had thrilled her each time she had smelled it.
And suddenly her heart and her body longed for him with an intensity that had her backing away from him.
‘It’s fine, thanks. I’ll finish this up in the kitchen.’ She grabbed the kit and almost ran back to the kitchen, not caring if he saw.
All she cared about was putting some distance between them so she could try and convince herself that he wasn’t affecting her.
* * *
‘Did you manage to call Lulu?’ Jordan asked Mila when he’d finally got his body back under control.
He hadn’t expected her to react like that after seeing him in a towel. The look she had given him before she had bolted had been filled with the desire that had marked their entire relationship, and his body had acted accordingly. But that was over now, he told himself, and he was making an effort to forget it. Except that all of a sudden he was noticing the curve of her neck, the faint blush of her cheeks...
‘I did,’ she replied, her voice husky, and he thought that maybe she wasn’t as recovered as she pretended to be. ‘She’s coming over to the house tomorrow.’
Something in her voice made him forget about the curls that had escaped the clip she’d tied her hair back with. He looked up, saw the shaky hands that handed him his pizza and a glass of wine, and something pulled inside him.
‘You’re worried.’
‘About seeing her?’ She picked up her glass and plate, walking past him on her way to the lounge.
He followed, saw that she took one couch, and sat on the other. He didn’t need another reason to be distracted by her. He watched as she broke a piece of pizza from the rest, but didn’t lift it to her mouth.
‘No, I think that’s going to be fine,’ she said, and lifted her head with a defiant smile.
But he could still see the uncertainty, and he knew that she was pretending. He just didn’t know for whom.
‘Do you really?’
‘Yeah, of course. I mean, we’ve spoken in the last year.’
She was desperately trying to convince him—or perhaps again convince herself.
‘Then why are you worried?’ he asked again. ‘And don’t tell me you aren’t because I can see that you are.’
‘Honestly, it’s nothing,’ she replied, picking at her pizza, and he had to force himself not to be annoyed by her denials. He had to force himself not to push her just because he wanted to know. Because he wanted to help.
So he didn’t answer her, biting from a slice of pizza that he didn’t taste, chewing mechanically, waiting for her to speak. Her hands grew busier, and soon there was a pile of cheese on her plate and her pizza base was nearly bare. Still, he waited, because he could see it unnerved her, and perhaps it would do so enough that she would open up to him.
‘I have to apologise.’
The words came out of nowhere, and Jordan felt a short moment of pride that his patience—a trait that maybe he needed more of—had paid off, before reacting to her words.
‘Why?’
‘I haven’t...kept in touch with her like I should have. Not after the baby.’
She didn’t look at him, and concern edged into his heart.
‘You were in a difficult place.’
‘And that’s when you’re supposed to turn to your friends, not push them away,’ she said hotly, and then lifted a hand to her mouth as though she was surprised at her own words.
He could believe that, since it was the way he felt, too. Did she mean she shouldn’t have pushed him away either?
‘Maybe Lulu should have understood,’ he replied carefully.
‘Maybe,’ she repeated. ‘Maybe I expected her to.’
They were talking about the two of them, he knew, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to speak plainly.
‘You would have had to say it. How else would she have known?’
‘Because she’s my friend.’
You were my husband.
‘She should have known.’
You should have stayed.
‘People don’t just know things, Mila,’ he said with anger, the only emotion he was ready to accept. ‘You have to tell them.’
‘Because saying things means so much, right?’ she replied calmly.
But he saw the ice in her eyes and he knew the calm was just a front.
‘Like when you say things like “until death do us part”? That means you can never go back on it?’ She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to reply.
Just beneath his anger, he felt the guilt. When he had left he had gone back on his word. But he wouldn’t have if she hadn’t done it first.
‘You said it, Mila. You have to turn to your friends when you need them, not push them away. You were the first one to go back on your word.’
Her eyes widened, and it seemed that for a moment the ice melted as a tear fell down her cheek. She wiped it away and stood.
‘This was a mistake. Pretending we could do something as simple as having a meal together without getting into some kind of argument.’ She slammed her plate onto the coffee table. ‘Neither of us may be innocent in what happened between us, but don’t for one moment think I went back on my word. I lost our
