Final Score

‘If you know all of this…’

‘All I know is the name, Dad. All I know is you were once in a relationship with a girl called Carrie Jackson. That’s all I know. Because I wanted you to tell me the rest. I wanted you to tell me the reason why she affected your life so much you won’t let yourself be happy with a woman you are so obviously in love with.’

Jim narrowed his eyes as he stared at his son. ‘Have you… have you been checking up on me?’

‘The internet is a wonderful tool, Dad. You’d be amazed at what you can find out after just a half hour of searching.’

‘I don’t believe this…’ He downed his whiskey, slamming the glass down onto the sideboard behind him, a mixture of panic and fear washing over him. He was losing control again, and he didn’t like that. It never made him feel comfortable. Losing control wasn’t something Jim Allen liked to make a habit of. ‘You need to go, Brandon. Now. Please. I really need you to go.’

Brandon held up his hands in defeat, shaking his head as he walked over to the door, stopping when he reached Jim. ‘You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Dad. Acting like some kind of robot who pushes his feelings to one side. Someone who finds happiness – who actually has it right there in his hands, and then just lets it go, as though it means nothing. When it actually means everything. You can’t keep on doing this, because it’ll destroy you.’

Jim grabbed Brandon’s arm as he walked out of the door. ‘I get scared, Brandon.’

‘Who was she, Dad?’

Jim looked down, letting go of Brandon’s arm, signalling the end of the conversation. It was over. Done. Finished. For now.

Brandon left without saying another word. Jim waited until he heard the front door slam shut before pouring himself yet another drink, the alcohol doing little to numb those feelings that short conversation with his son had caused to resurface.

As he felt totally unexpected tears fill his eyes, he furiously blinked them back, refusing to let this bring him down. He just had to put it back where it belonged, out of his mind, out of reach, and carry on. Just like he had been doing ever since. Just like he needed to do again.

*

Amber closed the car door and leaned back against it, shutting her eyes as the cold north-easterly wind whipped across her face. But it was a reality she needed to feel before she stepped back inside a bubble she knew full well she should be steering clear of. It had burst so many times she couldn’t really keep count any more, but it was a bubble she needed to be in right now. She needed him, needed his touch, his kiss; she needed to feel him inside her. She needed that.

Walking slowly up the driveway, she ran her fingers lightly along the side of his car, already feeling the forecasted frost begin to form on the cold surface. She began to shiver, the temperature was rapidly falling as the night wore on, and for a brief second she wondered if the fact she’d spent the last two hours just driving around – was that a warning sign? Should she be listening to those alarm bells, no matter how quietly they were ringing? If she’d needed him that much, why hadn’t she just come straight here when she’d left Tynebridge?

Finally reaching the front door she watched her fingers as they hovered over the bell. Pressing it was going to restart something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. But it was something she couldn’t stop from happening, because Ronnie was right. She was weak. Where Jim Allen was concerned she was weaker than any human being should ever be.

Pressing down on the bell she took a small step back. She still had a couple of seconds left to run away, to get out of there. To grow up and do what she’d said she was going to do – leave here and try and make a new start in London. But nothing could make her turn away from this, and she knew that. Now. She knew that.

Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest as the door slowly opened, her stomach doing that same old dip and dive as she looked up and saw him standing there. He was wearing faded, battered jeans and a dark t-shirt, his hair a little longer than he usually wore it, and the only thing she could think about was burying her fingers in it and messing it up as she lay underneath him.

‘I need you,’ she whispered, unable to do anything about the zillion and one butterflies that had just started flying around inside her.

He smiled the same smile that had reeled her in and dragged her into his world over twenty years ago. That same smile that could do it all over again, because she’d let it.

Closing the door behind her she looked at him, letting every memory of this man wash over her. Every beautiful kiss, every tiny touch – every heartbreaking goodbye. They all came back to visit, all at once, making her twice as confused, but it didn’t matter. They could stay there, embed themselves in her brain on a permanent basis and she knew she still couldn’t walk away from this. He was too much a part of her, and even if he broke her heart a million times more she was always going to love him. So, what did that say about her? What did that say about Amber Sullivan – that feisty, strong, independent woman who’d once thought she could take on the world. What did that say about her?

She walked over to him, taking the glass he was holding out of his hand, their eyes locked together. Reaching out to touch his mouth with her fingertips, she felt an altogether different kind of shiver engulf her as his hand rested lightly on her hip, pulling her just that little bit closer to him. Once more, the invisible cord she couldn’t seem to cut had brought her back here, back to him, and there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

Standing up on tiptoes she closed her eyes as her lips touched his, so gently they just brushed over them at first, but it was enough to cause those goosebumps to break out, that wave of confusion to be washed away by something far harder to understand. And as his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her against him, his mouth pressing down harder on hers, she shut out everything else – Ryan, Ronnie; even Rico. She shut them all out, because she wanted nothing to spoil this. She wanted nothing to get in the way of what she was about to do.

They were never going to make it upstairs, she knew that. They were never going to make it that far. It was going to happen right here, but it wasn’t going to be the quick and harsh encounter they’d shared earlier. She didn’t want that. She wanted to feel him properly, to take in every touch of his fingers on her skin. She wanted to sink deep into his kisses, feel him move inside her as their bodies once more became one. She wanted all of that. She wanted him.

Stepping back slightly, she smiled as he leaned back against the wall, folding his arms, his eyes on her as she slowly stripped. And all that did was heighten everything she was already feeling, turning her on even more as all those things she was trying to push to the back of her mind slowly started to fade away.

‘Leave the boots on,’ he said, his eyes still boring into hers. ‘Jesus, baby, please leave those boots on.’

She couldn’t help smiling as she walked back over to him, now wearing nothing but black, knee-high boots, pressing her naked body against his still fully-clothed one.

‘I’d forgotten how much you kill me, Amber.’ His voice was low and oh-so-sexy as his mouth rested on hers. ‘What you do to my head, honey, it’s crazy.’

‘I shouldn’t be here,’ she whispered, slowly pulling his t-shirt off over his head, flinging it aside like a used rag.

‘Then why are you?’

‘Because I need you.’ She began pulling the belt away from his jeans. ‘I already told you that. Because I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how much I try.’ She ran her thumb over his cheek, his stubble rough beneath her fingers. ‘And because I’m weak.’

He took hold of her hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. ‘I can’t stand here and promise I won’t hurt you again, Amber…’

She shook her head. ‘Don’t say anything, Jim, please. Just… just don’t say anything.’

His hand tightened around hers, their eyes still locked together. ‘I don’t want to hurt you…’

‘It’s too late for that.’

He finally broke the stare, but only for a brief second. ‘I’m glad you came. I didn’t think you would.’

‘Oh, you knew I would, Jim. You knew I would come.’

He bowed his head, once more breaking the stare. And when he finally raised it he said nothing, just wound his fingers into her hair and pulled her forwards, kissing her slowly. And Amber felt herself falling again, faster and faster, deeper and deeper into that web of pain and heartache that she couldn’t stay away from. It was almost as if everything he put her through was a turn-on.

As he gently lowered her down onto the stairs she felt a tiny twinge of reality nip at her conscience, the image of her beautiful baby boy swimming before her eyes and she squeezed them shut, pushing that image away. Rico was fine, he was good. He was safe and he was loved and he would always come first in her world. Always. And yet, how could she say that, when she was here? When she was about to do this and reopen every old wound Jim Allen had ever inflicted.

‘Are you okay?’

She opened her eyes, stretching her arms up above her head. ‘I’m fine. I was just thinking, that’s all.’

‘About what?’

She took a second or two to look at him. He was naked now, as he stood there in front of her. For a man of his age he still had the body of someone twenty years younger; tall and lean, toned and hard, and every memory of the first time she’d seen him like this came rushing forwards, flooding her brain, making her almost breathless. She could feel her chest rising and falling, faster and heavier than it had done just seconds before, her heart beating wildly against her ribs, her fingers entangling themselves in her own hair. ‘About why I shouldn’t be here.’

He lowered himself down over her, the heat of his body as it touched hers almost burning her skin and she breathed in deeply, letting him pull one of her hands away from her hair, his fingers intertwining with hers.

‘I thought we weren’t talking,’ he whispered, his mouth moving closer to hers.

‘We aren’t,’ she breathed, her chest now rising up to touch his as her legs pulled up around him, keeping him close.

‘Okay…’ He kissed her slowly, and she stretched out more as she felt his other hand slip between her legs, touching her gently, checking she was ready for him. ‘No more talking.’

‘No more talking,’ she repeated, opening her legs wider now, letting him in, inviting him to do whatever it was he needed to do.

As the kiss got deeper his fingers played harder, touching her, sinking into a wetness he’d created, and she found it difficult to hold back, to stay quiet, because what he was doing to her was everything she’d dreamed of him doing since the day he’d told her it was over. It had only been a few months ago, the last time he’d broke her heart, yet it seemed like an eternity had passed. She’d missed him so much, and although she hadn’t always been aware of that – the months leading up to Rico’s birth had given her more distractions than she’d been able to handle – she knew that the second her son had been born, that was when reality had kicked in. That was when she’d realised things had never really changed. That was when she’d realised it was this man she needed to be with. He just hadn’t wanted her. He’d pushed her away. But was all that changing now?

His mouth was still resting on hers as his fingers slid slowly inside her and she moaned quietly, bucking her hips up as she pulled him in. And it felt good to have him back there, to feel him where she needed him to be. Everything else felt wrong. Only he’d ever felt right, despite everything. Despite it all. Only he’d ever felt right.

Moving his head down, he covered one of her nipples with his mouth, flicking his tongue over it, causing her to moan out loud again as she buried her fingers in his hair. He was making her dizzy; her head was spinning with a hundred different reasons why this was wrong, but still she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She didn’t want him to leave or stop doing this; she didn’t want him to go.