Blindsided (Game On 2)

I needed to hold her. Not just her hand, but her body, right against me, to make up for the time we lost. I let go of her hand, shuffling back across the bed to make room for her. “Come here.”

Isabelle swung her legs around so she was sitting fully on the bed next to me, stopping to place my ice pack back on my knee before she nestled against me, my arm around her shoulders, her head resting against my chest.

Right away, everything started to feel right again, and some of my worry began to disappear.

“I really like Radleigh McCoy,” Isabelle said, completely blindsiding me. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a guy in the world who wouldn’t lose his shit when his girl mentions his friend while in the middle of making up.

“A guy can never hear that enough.”

Isabelle quickly raised her head, her hand covering her mouth for a se

cond. “Oh my God. You said … you said your ex only went out with you to get closer to him. Jesse, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like I’ve got a thing for him, I just meant he seems nice.”

She looked so worried, it put me at ease, and I gently pulled her back in to me.

“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s just that most girls fall in love with him. I heard Willow scream when she saw him.”

Isabelle giggled. “Yeah, she was so embarrassed! But I’m not in love with him. And me mentioning him actually relates to the conversation we were having. While you were talking to Georgia, he said some things that … well, I already knew them, but … it was good to have some confirmation. If you hadn’t made the first move to talk to me tonight, I would have. He was right. You have enough to deal with, without the added pressure of keeping a secret that wasn’t even yours to keep.”

“He said that?”

“Yeah. I think he sees as you as a little brother or something.”

I always thought he saw me as a pain in the ass.

It was good to know that, for the first time in a year, I’d finally met a girl who wasn’t interested in him. As I pulled Isabelle close to me again, I knew that she was mine. No matter what happened, if we could get through this, we could get through anything.

Chapter Eighteen – I Better Start Praying

Isabelle

I felt safe again after talking to Jesse. I’d never been particularly afraid of Mischa, but knowing what she was capable of, and her almost knocking my head off earlier that day, it was nice to feel protected. Logically, there wasn’t much Jesse could do to physically defend me against her, unless he managed to smack her with one of his crutches, but it was the feeling of security I needed. Just knowing he was there for me.

Jesse and I didn’t move from his bed for the whole evening. We put a movie on, and while we were watching, Mum brought us up some dinner. Being the thoughtful mother she is, she didn’t make us go downstairs to eat which I appreciated. I wanted Jesse to myself for a bit longer.

We weren’t disturbed until well after the movie ended, and the remains of our lasagne-overloaded plates had gone cold. We were sitting together in a peaceful silence, with Jesse stroking my hair, when Mum knocked on the door again.

This time, her face looked serious. Pale, even.

“Can you two come down to the kitchen, please,” she said. “We need to talk.”

I quickly swung my legs down to the floor. “What’s wrong?”

“The police are here. They need to talk to Jesse again, and I’d like to talk to you and Georgia.”

Behind me, I felt Jesse turn to face my mum too. “Why are the police here?” he asked.

It was past ten, and he obviously hadn’t gone to the police to report Mischa yet because he’d been with me.

“Just come downstairs, please.”

Mum turned away, and I swivelled my head around to look at Jesse.

“Do you think Georgia went to the police herself?” I asked.

He nodded. “It sure looks that way.”

Although my only crime was covering up the truth – which technically was bad enough – nerves grabbed hold of me. A terrible thought shot through my brain. What if she lied again? She couldn’t have, though. If she had, she would have told me first. But more than that, I knew she was done with Mischa. If she had spoken to the police, she went with the truth.