Blindsided (Game On 2)

“No, of course not! I’d have told you if I had.”

“Just checking. I get why you’re thinking about it, though. And all I have to say is, you’ll know when the time is right.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

She shook her head. “No. What you have with Jesse is way different than me seeing Hunter. We’re just having fun while we can, and while he is gorgeous and sexy and everything I want in a boyfriend, we’re not as close as you and Jesse. And we know where we stand with each other.”

“Where is that?”

“We’re going to stay in touch. We’ll email, and maybe Skype from time to time. But there’s no expectations. If we get to see each other again, great. If not, this last few weeks will be an amazing memory for me to hold on to.”

In some ways, I thought she was lucky. It wasn’t that I didn’

t know where I stood with Jesse. I knew how I felt, and I was sure he felt the same way but what I didn’t know was how to let him go. I didn’t want him to be a boy I might see again one day, and if not, he could just happily live forever in my mind. Having him as part of my past seemed like a horrible thing. But how could I consider asking for anything more?

A knock on the bedroom door halted my thoughts, and Willow and I exchanged excited smiles. This was it. Time for us to show ourselves to the guys.

I quickly checked my hair in the mirror, and when I was satisfied, I opened the door. Both Jesse and Hunter stood, gaping at us. Actually, I think we were all gaping at each other. Hunter looked good in the new shirt he’d shown me earlier, but all I could see was Jesse. Like Hunter, he wore simple black pants, and his shirt wasn’t anything super special, but it was just … him. His green eyes seemed different somehow. They sparkled when he looked at me, and although that wasn’t unusual, there was glimmer of something behind them that I’d never noticed before.

Whatever it was, it made him look even more gorgeous than usual.

Hunter was the first to choke out some words. “Great dress, Izzy. And Willow. I … Yeah, I’m speechless.”

He honestly looked like he’d just won the lottery and Willow was his prize. She blushed as he took her hand, and they began to walk on ahead, leaving Jesse and me standing alone in my room.

“Isabelle Mills, you look incredible.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You look good too.”

“If I didn’t have to deal with these damn crutches, you’d be in my arms right now.”

I kissed him on the cheek. “You can make it up to me later.”

The smile he gave me weakened my knees, and I had to turn away from him, picking up my cute, pink bag to stop myself from actually swooning.

“Come on,” I said, “We better go.”

It took us a while to get down the stairs, and when we reached the bottom, Mum and Dad were hovering, waiting for us. Mum insisted on taking loads of photos, as if we were going to a prom, but she was forced to stop when the cab arrived to take us to the restaurant.

One thing I learned that night was that I am not pretentious. None of us were. But we paid huge prices for tiny portions of fine food because we were trying to prove how mature and sophisticated we were. The food was outstanding, but I’d always been more of a pizza and dessert kind of girl. Food with posh, unpronounceable names which was really just chicken in sauce was something I decided I would never eat again.

We were so hungry after eating the miniscule offerings, we did something that should never ever be done while wearing expensive clothes.

We went to the fish and chip shop.

“Izzy, isn’t eating takeaway food while dressed up against some kind of rich person law?” Willow asked, as if reading my mind.

We strolled down the busy, Christmas light filled streets, shivering from the cold and eating our fish and chips. Well, Hunter, Willow and I were eating. Jesse couldn’t eat and walk on crutches, but he insisted he wasn’t hungry anyway.

“Yes,” I laughed. “I’m pretty sure the Pretension Act of 1608 states that no person wearing any item of clothing worth more than fifty pounds should eat takeaway food in public.”

“Well, I feel naughty, now!” she giggled.

We did look odd, dressed in such elegant outfits while the smell of salt and vinegar wafted around us.

“We’re rebels,” I said.

“Well I’m impressed.” Hunter paused to throw more chips down his throat. “I always heard you people talking about fish and chips, and I never understood what the big deal was.”