Trace of Innocence | Sweet and Sour (Book 4)

Chapter 45

(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 45 - Don't Overthink, Just Let It Go)

I pull into the car park of Jess's flat, kill the engine and leap out of the car, Tesco carrier bag in hand. I fidget nervously as I walk to the front door of the block, wondering whether she will just send me away without seeing me. Considering the mood she is in, I wouldn't be surprised. 

I press the buzzer to her flat and peer at my reflection in the glass of the front door. I look a bit manic. 

"Door's on the latch," comes through the speaker, crackly but undeniably Jess, followed by the buzz of the front door lock, signalling permission to enter. I frown as I push the door open. 

Is she expecting someone? She wouldn't be expecting me, surely? And after her tone on the phone earlier, I wouldn't assume to be let in without question like this. I take the stairs two at a time to the door of her flat and pause for a moment before pushing the door gently with my hand.

"In the lounge, babe," she calls.

Babe. Babe. Oh my God - who is she expecting? A man? Gary? Adam?

"Who are you calling 'babe'?" I ask fearfully as I enter the lounge, and then almost jump out of my skin as she springs off the sofa with a small squeak of surprise, turning to face me and clutching her chest with one hand.

"Callie," she says breathlessly, and I inwardly sigh with relief. "I thought you were Callie."

"Nope. Just me," I say, feeling a bit idiotic at turning up like this when she clearly has plans and a life - both of which no longer involve me. "Sorry to disappoint," I add.

"You could never disappoint," she says, almost to herself, and then her cheeks blush a soft pink. I feel my mouth breaking into a smile at the sight of her vulnerability and beauty. Fuck, I've missed her so much.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, a little more evenly. "I thought you were... busy this week." 

Did I imagine it or did she hesitate part way through that sentence? I can't meet her gaze.

"You said you'd had a bad day, and Mother Nature was being unkind to you," I mutter. "I thought maybe you'd appreciate some comforts."

I swing the carrier bag in my hand a little halfheartedly, and her gaze flicks to it momentarily, and then back up to my face. We're standing about six feet apart, staring at each other. It couldn't feel more awkward. I clear my throat.

"So, I stopped at Tesco Express and got you a Double Decker," I explain, feeling even more stupid at this meagre offering as I pull it out of the bag and hand it to her, "some cherry ice cream - " (she takes this from me wordlessly) "and, uh, some girl supplies." 

I mutter this last part and shove them into her hands without looking at her, feeling heat rise in my face. This all seemed like such a good idea half an hour ago. In reality, I look like a cross between the desperate ex, and a crazy stalker. It's unnerving to realise that I have actually become a morph of the two.

"Oh," she says simply.

Silence. So of course, I fill it with mindless chatter.

"I don't know which you, um, use, so I got both," I add unnecessarily.

I reach into the bag and pull out the fluffy hot water bottle that now looks like something you would find in an eight year old's bedroom. "I also got you this," I explain, cringing as I hand it to her. "And I brought you one of my hoodies, since you said your favourite one was in the wash."

I reach into the carrier again and hand her the second-hand tatty hoodie, and then ball up the empty carrier bag in my hands resolutely. I literally have never felt less cool. "It doesn't really fit me anymore, it's a bit small now," I say, in a rush. "I thought it would probably fit you, though. You can keep it, if you want. Since, uh, my Green Bay one is no more."