Trace of Innocence (No Control Book 3)

Chapter 72 - part ii

(No Control - 72. Last First kiss, second part)

I call Jess from the car. I feel like shit and I just want to hear her voice. I lean back in the seat with the phone pressed to my ear, and wait while it rings.

"Hey Squidge," she answers, softly.

"Hey baby," I reply.

"You ok?"

"Yeah," I lie. "Are you?"

"Yeah, I'm ok," she says, cautiously. "I can tell you're not, though. What's up?"

Is it that fucking obvious?

"Nothing, I'm fine," I lie again. I really don't want to have this conversation right now. I don't want her to be pissed off with me when I'm so far away.

"You're not," she says bluntly. "I can hear it in your voice. You sound.... stressed. And a bit... sad."

I am exactly that: stressed and sad. How can she tell that, just from me saying a couple of words?

"How do you always know?" I sigh.

"Because I love you," she says gently, making my toes tingle. "And I know you. So come on, what's happened?"

I want to tell her everything so badly. I want to confide all my fears in her - about Louis' baby, the future of the band, the things Nadine has just said about me - and let her tell me I'm worrying for nothing, and everything will be OK. But I need to do it face to face.

"I don't want to talk about it over the phone," I say eventually.

"OK," she accepts. "But are you alright? I mean, really?"

She knows not to push me. She just knows. She trusts me.

I feel so fucking guilty.

"Yeah," I murmur, shifting position and lowering my voice. "Today's just been... draining, I guess. For a couple of different reasons."

"You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"I do, but not while I'm thousands of miles away from you," I reply, miserably. "I might need a cuddle when I'm back home, though."

"Oh, Harry," she sighs. "I wish I was there."

Fucking hell, so do I.

"I wish you were too. I'm just going to go out with Jeff and get drunk and silly."

If I can get drunk enough I might just be able to forget everything that is going on in my life right now and be worry-free, just for one night.

"Sounds like a good plan," she says, with a smile in her voice.

"Yeah," I agree, and let out a big breath. My stomach is in knots. "Anyway, how was your day?"

"Fine," she says nonchalantly. "Boring, uneventful. I'm going out for a few drinks after work tomorrow."

I feel a pang of jealousy at the thought of her hanging out with that Gary from her office who fancies her. I hate the idea of him cosying up to her while I'm an entire ocean apart from her.

I have the worst double standards, I fucking know, alright.

"Will Gary be going?" I ask, trying really hard to sound casual.

"Yeah, along with about ten others," she replies, and I can tell from her tone that there is absolutely nothing for me to worry about. I can't help hating it, though. And I hate being jealous.

"OK," I mutter, as graciously as I can.

"I love you," she says.

She knows. She knows I'm jealous and she isn't playing on it; instead she's trying to put me at ease. I fucking love her so much.