Lean On Me (Take My Hand) (3 page)

BOOK: Lean On Me (Take My Hand)
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“So did
your
mum never tell you it’s rude not to say please?” Laughter took
over my need to create a comeback until Jared scooted nearer to me… sitting so
close our thighs were touching. Suddenly, I could barely breathe, let alone
laugh. “You know… I
could
be your
guy,” he whispered just inches away from my face.

Holy fuckballs with giant shiny bells
on.

He wasn’t serious.

“You’re not serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He actually sounded
genuinely surprised… maybe even offended. But he wasn’t serious. Was he? No… he
couldn’t have been being serious. “Maybe I think you’re really fucking hot.” Oh
fucking hell, was he… did he… sweet, Jesus, he just kissed my jaw!

“Stop fucking around, Jared,” I said
firmly… shrugging away from him. He was pissing around, I knew he was, and that
made the fact my heart had started racing so much more difficult to understand.

“I’m not fucking around, Rach. I like
you…. A lot.” Okay, I’ve had my fair share of hook-ups and I seriously don’t
think a single one has
ever
muttered
those words to me.

“You and me? A one-night stand could
ruin us… and you’re too good a friend for that.”

“Who mentioned a one-night stand?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
From the outside I know I have this whole I-don’t give-a-shit attitude going on
regarding my disability, and for the most part that’s true. But that’s because
it only affects
me.
However, when it
comes to someone else wanting to get close… and
stay
close… that’s a whole new ballgame. Jared sees the fun side of
me – the carefree, jokey, no-nonsense persona…

But the truth is, I
do
care… I
do take
things
seriously and I
know
how difficult
life can be living in a damn chair. People stare… people judge… people fuss…

Sure people want to be my friend… guys
even want to hook up for the odd night. But they can go home again. I’ve never
even considered the idea of someone being around for the long haul. For fuck’s
sake listen to me? Jared said more than one night… that’s hardly a fucking
future.

“This is to do with that thing, isn’t
it?” he asked, nodding towards my wheelchair by the sofa. “Because you should
know… I’ve never really even
seen
it
until tonight. When you got hung up over that bruise on your side… well, that
was the first time I’d ever seen you looking… ashamed, I guess. And I’ve got to
be honest - I don’t get it.

“You’re just… you. You’re a girl I’ve
gotten really close to recently. A girl who shares my twisted sense of humour,
likes the same TV shows, shares mutual friends, drinks like a fish, swears as
much as I do… and who just happens to be fucking beautiful. You’re sat down? So
what?”

The air had turned a deep shade of
serious and I started to wonder if maybe I hadn’t sobered up as much as I
thought I had. Just then, my mum appeared in the doorway. I had never been more
relieved to see her… but then she said goodnight, reminded me she and Dad were
leaving early to visit her friend Sandra in the morning and told us she was
going to bed.

“Jared…” I trailed off when I realised I
had no bloody idea what to say.

“Look, Rachel… if you tell me you’re not
interested then I’ll back off, no questions asked. But… I’ve been… man, I don’t
know how to say this without sounding like a giant pussy.” He paused and drew
in a deep breath. “Well I’ve been…
feeling
things around you lately that I didn’t understand until tonight. When you got
embarrassed about you fall earlier? It hurt me. I didn’t like seeing you like
that and I just wanted to hold you… make you feel better.”

“Jared, I don’t…” Turned out I didn’t
know what I planned to say again.

“Just let me kiss you,” he said softly,
tucking one hand behind the nape of my neck. “Just once… and if you don’t feel
anything we can go back to the way we’ve always been. Friends.”
Yeah, like that’ll happen.
A tiny ball
of fear was already beginning to swell in my belly. In the last five minutes our
relationship had already begun to drastically change and I was so bloody scared
there would be no going back from that. “Just trust me,” he whispered –
settling his lips on mine before I could respond.

Holy fucking WOW.

My lips melted into his, parting
slightly and allowing him to delve deeper with his tongue. Every so often he
would slip out, running his tongue over my new lip-ring - stinging the tender
flesh just slightly - and my hands tailed up his strong arms and settled in his
sandy-blonde hair, impatiently pulling him closer to me. I’d never felt
anything this intense before. For the first time it wasn’t just the swell of
excitement between my legs (though that was most
definitely
there) spurring me on - it was the pressure of my heart
hammering against my ribs, the force of the blood rushing through my veins, the
throb of the pulse in my neck…

A soft moan escaped my throat and Jared
pulled me in tighter to his chest. I could feel his heart racing as violently
as my own as I breathed an intoxicating scent I’d never noticed coming off him
before. My nose revelled in the smell of his spicy aftershave… but it ran
deeper than that. With every breath I took I could smell more of him –
almond bodywash, minty toothpaste and a hint of an unfamiliar musky scent that
I’m sure belonged only to Jared’s skin.

“So, saffy…” he murmured, pulling away
and nudging my nose with his. “What do you say? Fancy giving us a shot?”

Yes.

YES YES YES!

“I-I don’t know.” Argh! Why wasn’t my
mouth working properly? I wanted so desperately to say yes but the word just
wouldn’t come out.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked
curiously, pulling back a little further. “You know I wouldn’t just fuck and
run. I’m not that kind of guy.” I raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him and
almost choked on the solitary laugh that burst from my throat. “Okay… so let me
rephrase that. I’m not that kind of guy with
you
.”

Pushing Jared away from me, I gripped
onto my chair and pulled myself over.

“I’m sorry, Jared. I just… can’t.”
Risking a glance at the face I didn’t realise was so beautiful until tonight, I
expected to be met with an expression of disappointment. But instead, his green
eyes twinkled and he flashed me his infamous goofy grin.

“You can. And you
will
. Just you wait and see.” Huh? What the hell was that supposed
to mean? Turns out I didn’t have the balls to stick around and find out.

“Goodnight, Jared,” I said simply,
turning around and making my way to the lift in the dining room.

“G’night, saffy.”

Chapter Three

Jared

 

Well
, it’s game on. How the hell didn’t I
realise what that annoying fluttering thing that’s been going on inside my
chest was? Well now I know. It’s the feeling of my heart being pulled towards
Rachel and I don’t care how girly that makes me sound – I want her and
I’m bloody well going to get her.

With my new mission fresh in my mind I
woke up with an extra spring in my step. Rachel’s parents had already left to
visit one of Caroline’s friends by the time I got downstairs so with nothing
else to do, I started mentally preparing my Win Rachel plan. First on the list?
Breakfast.

Now I know what you’re thinking… bacon,
eggs, beans – the works, right? Wrong. The only way to Rachel’s heart is
through an Original Curry Pot Noodle with four slices of heavily buttered (the
good stuff, none of that margarine crap) bread. A quick rummage through the
kitchen cupboards in search of some proved unsuccessful so, safe in the
knowledge Rachel wouldn’t surface before 10 AM for God Himself, I grabbed my
keys and nipped to the nearest corner shop.

I huffed to myself when I discovered the
nearest shop only stocked chicken and mushroom flavour. According to Rachel,
mushrooms taste like mouldy slugs (are you as intrigued as I am to know
how
she knows that?) so I hopped
straight back in the car and drove around until I came across an Asda
Superstore. As expected from a big supermarket, their shelves were fully
stocked with
every
flavour of Pot
Noodle ever to be invented. I grabbed a multipack of her favourite curry
flavour and also picked up some fresh orange juice, croissants and one of those
bunches of flowers stuffed into the black buckets by the door.

I smiled widely, truly pleased with
myself and my plan when I pulled up on Caroline and Bryan’s driveway. It’s
weird; I’ve never wanted to make breakfast for a girl before. I mean, I
have
done it – but more out of
courtesy than actually wanting to treat them like they’re special.

Man, this is exciting. The thrill of the
chase and all that shit.

As expected Rachel was still in bed when
I got back. I took my bag of breakfast stuff straight through to the kitchen
and flipped the switch on the kettle before peeling back the foil lid on the
pot noodle and switching on the grill to heat the croissants. When all the food
was ready I arranged it all on a white tray and popped a few selected flowers
from the bunch I just bought in a pint glass alongside her orange juice. Don’t
worry – in case I wasn’t clear, I used separate glasses for the juice and
the flowers.

Balancing the tray in one hand, I
knocked lightly on Rachel’s bedroom door when I reached the top of the stairs.
Then I knocked a little harder. Then I gave up waiting for a response and
walked in anyway.

“What the fuck, Jared!” she blasted when
I lifted my foot up to nudge her comatose body.

“I did knock,” I said simply, enjoying
the sight of her screwed up face as she tried to blink the daylight from her
eyes. I perched myself on the edge of her double bed and laid the tray down
next to her on the mattress.

“What’s this?” she asked, narrowing her
eyebrows.

“Breakfast,” I answered, resisting the
urge to say something sarcastic.

“My mum
never
has Pot Noodles in the house,” she said, looking up at me
quizzically.

“Well, I went out and got some.”

“Why?”

“Because you like them.” Again she
continued to stare at me with a puzzled expression.

“And the croissants?”

“It just seemed a little more breakfasty
if I included those. ‘Cause I’ve gotta be honest, saffy… Pot Noodle for
breakfast is kind of rank.” Shrugging, Rachel started digging in, folding a
piece of bread in half and dipping it in the steaming noodles. “Sooo… breakfast
in bed is the type of thing a good boyfriend would do, right? What’dya say?
Ready to give us a chance yet?”

“Not until you learn to make a Pot
Noodle properly. There’s too much water in this,” she complained with a faint
trace of a smile.

“I filled it to the line!”

“Ah, you see… the
right
way to do it is to stop just
before
the line. Then you have to keep stabbing at it with a fork
to make sure all the bits at the top go mushy too. But… I’ll give you an A for
effort I s’pose.”

“You know… I’ve got talents worth even
more
than an A if you’d just let me show
you.” I leaned across the bed and propped myself up on one elbow, never taking
my eyes off hers.

“Drop it, Jaz.” She had that look in her
eye again – that
scared
look. It
didn’t suit her at all and I was determined to change it.

“Drop what? My pants?” All
that
got me was a swat with a slice of
bread. Naturally, the buttered side landed across my cheek. I wiped it off with
a piece of kitchen-roll from Rachel’s tray, purposely leaving a little smudge
along my jaw. “I can’t seem to get this bit right here,” I said, pointing to
the spot on the corner of my lips. “I might need you to lick it off for me.”

Holy Jesus, she actually DID!

Who’d have thought morning breath
mingled with curry noodles and greasy butter could smell so fucking delicious. In
that moment I knew beyond any shadow of doubt that I
would
win this girl.

“I think a bit went on my tongue,” I
teased with a suggestive smirk.

“Too bad.” It was worth a try I guess.

Turns out, Rachel doesn’t like
croissants with Pot Noodle (who knew?) so I ate those in just a few swift bites
while she finished everything else on the tray. When we’d finished I took the
tray and Rachel moved to the edge of the bed, putting her hands under each
thigh and lifting her legs over the side one at a time. I opened my mouth to
ask if she needed help but quickly closed it when I realised that would
probably earn me a slap.

“You’re doing it again,” Rachel said
after lifting herself into her chair.

“Doing what?” I was pretty sure I wasn’t
doing
anything
.

“Looking at me like you think I need
help.”

“Hey I’m not. Well… I guess I
am
, but not in a horrible way. I get
that you have your own ways of getting everything done, I just don’t know what
they are. I’m trying to learn, that’s all.”


Why
?”
she asked, sounding bewildered.

“Because when you agree to be my
girlfriend we’ll be spending a lot more time together. So… I suppose I’m trying
to work out when asking you if you want help will result in a slap or a yes.”

“Jesus, will you ever give up?”

“Sure I will. When you say yes. You
ready to say yes, saffy?”

“Are you ready to tell me what the hell
‘saffy’ stands for?”

“How about a deal? You say yes and I’ll
tell you what it means?”

Go on then… I’ll tell
you
what it means. You might have picked
up that my usual greeting is ‘sugar’. You may have also noticed that Rachel isn’t
a ‘sugar’ kind of girl – not at first anyway. Rachel is spicy. She’s got
a bitter edge that settles into something sweet and intriguing.

Like saffron.

Saffron also happens to be the most
expensive spice in the world and I didn’t realise until just yesterday that
just like Rachel, it’s worth every penny and more besides.

“Ugh,” she said, rolling her eyes, which
were still puffy from sleep, at me. “Go on, piss off. I need to get a bath and
get dressed.”

“I’d be happy to help you with that
whether you need it or not.”

“OUT!”

Laughing proudly, I picked up the
breakfast tray and made my way back downstairs.

This is going to be so much fun.

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