Heart Read online

  Heart

  Copyright © Nicola Hudson 2014

  www.nicolahudsonauthor.com

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design © ArijanaKarčić, Cover It! Designs

  Editing: Hot Tree Editing

  Formatting and interior design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, events are either the concepts or products of the author’s imagination, or used to create a fictitious story and should not be viewed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author, except for brief quotations, reviews and articles.

  PROLOGUE: heavy-hearted

  heartbreak

  hearts and flowers

  losing heart

  in a heartbeat

  heart of stone

  heart of gold

  change of heart

  home is where the heart is

  in a heartbeat

  cross my heart

  take heart

  heart to heart

  heart-stopping

  broken-hearted

  heartache

  from the heart

  EPILOGUE: heart and soul

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Neve can barely contain her excitement as we drive along the Brighton shorefront, the sea shimmering in the August sun. I can feel it in the way her fingers clench my thigh and her constant fidgeting. Try as I might, I can’t stop looking at the ever-increasing amount of leg on show as her squirming pushes her skirt higher and higher, exposing more and more of her smooth skin. Skin I want—no, need—to run my fingers across. Skin I know gets softer and softer the higher I get. The harder I get. Keep your eyes on the bloody road, Jake.

  “Look, it’s the pier! We could go tonight! We’ve never been to the fair! I can’t believe we’re actually here!” I can’t believe we’re actually here, either. Hours away from home, but this is where she will soon be. Hours away from me.

  Before the black cloud, which is now permanently on the horizon of my mind descends, I try to just focus on the weekend ahead. “Sounds like a plan,” I say, smiling across at her. The open window ruffles her hair and, yet again, I am overwhelmed by how beautiful she is. If I believed in God, I’d spend my days on my knees, thanking him for bringing her into my life. For bringing light into my dark. As it is, I don’t know what I’ve ever done that deserves such a return.

  “Fancy a paddle?” I ask, manoeuvring the van into a parking space. Neve’s squeal of excitement makes me laugh, and I swear she’s out of the van before I’ve even grabbed the keys from the ignition.

  I take her hand and we walk down the steps to the beach. The pebbles crunch and shift under our feet, turning our walk into the gait of unsteady drunks. Neve’s breathless laughter as we tighten our grip on each other catches on the wind, making an older couple nearby look over and smile. I smile back, knowing we look like the perfect vision of a young couple in love. And we are.

  For now.

  We stand at the surf’s edge, Neve in front of me, her back pressed to my chest. Outside of bed, this is probably my favourite way to hold her. She fits perfectly into me: her head under my chin, her slight body within the width of my chest. I wrap my arms closer around her, unsure whether it’s protection or possession which compels me to do so. I just know that holding her tight like this soothes me, calms me. She shields me from the noise of life’s strife. I wonder who the hero is here.

  A couple of hours later, I hold open the door to the B&B Grace helped me book online. I just hope the pictures on their website aren’t a scam and our first holiday together isn’t going to be spent in some windowless cell.

  Neve’s reaction to the pure-white bedroom reassures me and I breathe a sigh of relief. My own response is almost as strong as hers, but mine is more about the king-size bed than the sea view. It will be a luxury after the narrow cosiness of single beds on the only nights we’ve slept together before. We’ve been together for eight months, and I can still count the number of those nights on my fingers. If loving her within such confines was amazing, what is the luxury of this bed going to be like?

  Aware I’m getting hard at just the thought of sharing a bed with her, I follow Neve’s oohing and aahing into the bathroom. The sight of a huge, walk-in shower does nothing to calm my imagination. If it was up to me, we wouldn’t make it out of the room for the next three days.

  Pulling on my hand, Neve leads me back into the bedroom, a familiar grin on her face. My heartbeat quickens, sensing what may lie ahead. She steps away, pulling her tee shirt over her head and shimmying that oh-so-short skirt down over her hips. I can’t stop my eyes skimming down from her face, past her heart-mark, over the fullness of her amazing tits and pausing at the triangle of skin hidden by her ridiculously, sexily-small knickers. If I was painfully hard before, I’m in bloody agony now and all I can think about is sinking into her. Reaching around to unclasp her pink lace bra, she smiles.

  “What are you waiting for? We have a king-size bed, no parents and three days. I want you. Now.” I’ve never been this hard in my life and there’s no way I’m going to be able to hold out for long if she’s in this sort of mood. I love this sort of mood.

  Neve steps toward me as I yank my shirt over my head. She raises herself on tiptoes and kisses me. Hard. My cock twitches in response, desperate to be released from the confines of my jeans. I grip her head in my hands as my tongue fights back.

  “No, you don’t,” she says, pulling my hands from her hair and holding them behind my back. “I’m in charge.” Shit. Willing to let her play the role this time, I dutifully keep my hands behind me as she sinks lower.

  I love this girl.

  I love tipsy Neve. No, I adore tipsy Neve. It was her friendly tipsiness, which finally brought us together. I’ve been friends with Flynn for years but hadn’t really paid much attention to Neve until a couple of years ago. All of a sudden, she went from being his mildly-annoying little sister and became this beautiful girl I was completely tongue-tied around. When I found myself keeping her company last New Year’s Eve, whilst Flynn and Cass were up to no good upstairs, it was like meeting her for the first time. She was chatty and funny and sexy and witty and… just everything I wanted. I couldn’t believe it when she returned my kiss at midnight. That was the start of the best year of my life.

  Making my brain focus on the here and now, I scoop her up in my arms and somehow manage to get us both across the pebbles to a flat section of beach. She gave up on her shoes a while ago and has been dancing barefoot along the boardwalk, laughing and blowing kisses at passers-by. She has none of her usual inhibitions after a couple of drinks. That public guard, an attempt at rendering her heart-mark invisible, disappears and everyone else gets a glimpse of the girl I know in private.

  It’s unbelievable how much difference a small patch of skin can make. Not just to Neve, but to other people, as well. You wouldn’t think they would even see the red, heart-shaped birthmark on her neck, less than a couple of inches across, as it’s usually covered by her hair. But they do. I can feel their response in the way her body tenses next to mine, the way her hand tightens its hold on mine. That’s why I nicknamed it her heart-mark, to make it seem less of an issue; because it isn’t one to me.

  With more laughter than elegance, I get us both sat down on the beach, Neve nestled between my legs. The rise and fall of her breasts against my arms as she breathes in the sea air elicits the expected reaction from me, making her giggle and grind herself further back into me. God. I kiss the top of her head and squirm to relieve the pressure in the front of my jeans.
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  “I love you, Myrtle.”

  “I love you, too.” Her head rests back against my shoulder and it’s not long before her breathing deepens. I can feel the beat of her heart through her thin top, and I swear mine syncs with hers.

  This is a moment to store, like a photo: a moment to notice every detail of. So that, when this ends, I can look back at it and remember being this happy. I look around me, taking in the hazy waves of the sea and the skeleton of the pier silhouetted against the dawn sky. I smell the combination of the sea air and Neve’s shampoo. I hear the sound of her breathing, underscored by the wash of the waves over the pebbles. I will never forget this.

  I can’t ever forget it.

  Her.

  And, even though I know it has to end, I’m grateful for every minute I have had with her. She has shown me love. She has shown me life.

  When we get back home, I will have to focus on the future. Her future. Looking around the university campus earlier proved that. This is the point when our lives take different paths. I have to stay at home. More than my future rests on it. Neve will be here, making new friends, a new life. A life I can’t be part of.

  What other choice do I have? Sacrifice Grace and Josh so I can be happy? I promised Dad that I would look after them, and I can’t go back on that. As much as I wished my fucked-up mum was different, that my life was different, it isn’t. That is my reality, not sitting on a beach with the girl of my dreams.

  The acceptance of my fate brings tears dangerously close to the surface and I need to distract myself. I pick up a pebble and throw it, aiming for the receding sea. I miss. And again. Scouting for a larger one, I see it: a heart. Her heart. Well, a grey pebble the same shape as her heart-mark. Rubbing my thumb over its smoothness, I know I was meant to find this. I was meant to carry her to this exact spot, sit here and find this.

  This way, I can carry her heart forever.

  Jake’s arm was strewn across me, pegging me to the bed, but I was happy to be forced to lie still for a little while longer. Smiling to myself at the not-so-gentle sound of his snoring, I marvelled that someone so gorgeous, so goddamn beautiful, was lying naked next to me. Well, half across me. I feasted on the way his golden skin was stretched taut across his shoulder and down the defined muscles of his arm. I remembered the tautness of those arms last night, next to my head, holding the weight of his upper body off me whilst we were so closely connected below. My body tingled with the memories of the hours we had spent, luxuriating in each other’s bodies after the time we’d been apart. It was two months since we’d last been together in Brighton and so much had changed since then. But not this. Not us.

  I’d been at uni for two weeks and it was amazing how much difference his arrival had made. The dark clouds had parted and he was the sun in my lonely uni experience. Okay, so it was only temporary, but I was sure I could cope if this became the pattern of my life: a couple of weeks alone, followed by a weekend with Jake. It didn’t matter where, at home or in Brighton, as long as I got to spend time with him. Like this.

  I loved the way we fit together so perfectly, aligned in every way. When we were standing, the height difference was noticeable as the top of my head barely grazed his chin. Yet that made me feel safe, enveloped in his arms. But lying down, the difference disappeared. Yes, I did usually wake up with either his arms or long legs draped over me, but I liked it. Loved it.

  “How long have you been awake and staring at me, Myrtle?” Jake’s yawned question interrupted my ogling.

  “Oh, hours,” I joked. I could spend every hour of every day and not get my fill. Jake was that type of sexy which meant I couldn’t stop looking at him. And I wasn’t the only one, either. Over the months we had been together, I had finally got used to other girls, women even, eyeing him up, even if we were walking hand in hand. Maybe it was the permanent smile in his light blue eyes. Maybe it was the way his dirty-blond hair invited fingers to play in its messiness. Or maybe it was his ripped body, toned and tightened through hours of manual labour. God, his body.

  “Earth to Myrtle,” Jake sang. “Is anyone at home?” I rolled over and straddled his hips. Looking down, my breath caught at the intensity of his gaze. His words may have been joking, but his eyes weren’t. He wasn’t looking at me: he was consuming me, almost as if he was trying to imprint my image on his brain. I dipped my head and kissed him lightly.

  “Let me clean my teeth and I’ll be back,” I mumbled against his mouth but, as I tried to pull away, his arms folded around me, rendering me immobile. I wasn’t complaining; there were far worse places to be than pressed up against his chest.

  “You know that I love you, don’t you?” There was a serious edge to his voice, which made me wish I was still looking into his eyes.

  “That’s a stupid question. Of course I do. I love you and you love me. It’s knowing how much you love me, and looking forward to this weekend, that has meant I’ve survived the first couple of weeks here. So, yes, I know you love me. Now, can I brush my teeth?” After a brief, breath-crushing squeeze, his arms relented and I slid off the bed.

  When I left the bathroom a few minutes later, I was surprised to see him, already dressed, and perched on the edge of my tidied bed.

  “Oh, I thought I was coming back to bed,” I said, my hands unconsciously playing with the belt on my dressing gown.

  “Sit down, Neve.” He never called me Neve. Ever.

  “Why? Can’t I put some clothes on first?”

  “Please, just sit down.” The quietness in his voice had me worried so I obeyed.

  Big mistake.

  That was the moment I let it happen.

  “I can’t carry on doing this.”

  “Carry on doing what? What are you talking about? Why are you acting so weird?”

  “This. Us. I can’t do it anymore. I want out.” The bastard couldn’t even make eye contact with me as he broke—no, shattered—my heart.

  “What the fuck? You’re kidding me, right? There’s no problem with this. We’re great. At least, I thought we were,” I added, turning his face around so he had no choice but to man up and look at me. “What are you doing, Jake? I know things will be a bit different when I’m here but you can come down whenever you want, and I’ll be home again in a couple of weeks. We’ll make it work. I promise.” I tried to kiss him, but he shifted his head so all I got was a stubbly cheek.

  “It’s no good, Neve. My mind is made up. I came down to say goodbye.”

  Never have I felt as angry as I did at that moment. Heat poured out of me, like a volcano erupting, and for a moment, I understood what compelled people to kill someone they love.

  “You came down to say goodbye? Well, why didn’t you just do that then? But, oh no, you thought you were going to get one last shag in, didn’t you? So, you knew you were going to do this when we were in bed together? When you were telling me you loved me?” With each question, the tone and volume of my voice increased. When he tried to put his arms around me to calm me down, well, it was probably only dogs who could hear me.

  “Get the fuck off me! You have no right to touch me. Not after this.”

  “Please, don’t be like this.” The sadness in his eyes took the heat out of my anger and I wavered, desperate to find out what was going through his head. But I knew I couldn’t cope with finding out there was someone else or, worse still, that he no longer loved me. I had to stay strong.

  “Get out. Get out now!” I opened the door to my room and stood sentry.

  “Don’t—” I picked up his keys and phone off my desk.

  “Here you go. Bye.” I forced myself to pretend I was feeling nothing but anger as I held them out to him. He walked over and took them, trying to hold onto the hand which held them. I pulled it back and thrust it into my pocket. When he opened his mouth to speak, I made sure to get in first.

  “Don’t. You have no fucking right to talk to me. Remember that, no right at all. So when you realise you have made the biggest fuck-up of your life
, don’t expect to come crawling back to me, apologising and telling me you love me. This is over. You are over.”

  The venom in my words had the desired effect and he walked through the door. Slamming it shut, I leaned my forehead against it and hoped for a sign that he might not go through with it.

  The bang as the entrance door to the student housing closed crushed the first hope.

  The throaty roar as his van came to life crushed the second.

  The sound of the engine disappearing into the distance crushed any lingering crumbs which may have remained.

  Falling to the floor, I wondered exactly how many pieces my heart had just been broken into. Allowing the fake anger to disappear, my chest heaved with panicky sobs. What would I do now?

  Jake was my life.

  My love.

  My world.

  And now that world was spiralling, free-falling through space, ready to disappear into the abyss. I closed my eyes, wanting to go with it.

  I pull off the main road and somehow manage to park the van, even though I can’t see a thing. And cry. Cry like a fucking girl. Actually, no. I cry like a man: head resting on the steering wheel so passers-by can’t see the mess I am, chest heaving so much I can feel it burning in my abs.

  There should be a word for this, like suicide. Breaking your own heart. Who the fuck decides to do that, anyway? Me, that’s who. Because her heart is worth more than mine. I have to learn to live with this ache, knowing that her life will be the better for it.

  Yeah, it was the right thing to do, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t hurt like hell. It hurts like the other shittiest moments of my shitty life: Dad dying, Mum losing the house.

  But this one was my choice.

  I have to set her free. She won’t understand it now, but in the long run she’ll thank me. I mean, what do I have to offer someone like her? What sort of life can I give her? She will finish uni, get an amazing job and spend the rest of her life forever apologising for her non-academic, non-high-flying boyfriend. Husband. And she’ll end up hating me for it.