The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,8

managed to stay upright.

‘You all right?’ he asked slowing his pace to wait for me.

‘Yeah,’ I panted, my heart pounding even harder with the sudden surge of adrenaline the near-fall had released. He jogged on the spot for a minute, his blue eyes completely focused on me, and for a moment it was as if everything else around us receded and we were only aware of each other.

That pesky adrenaline rocketed back into place and I could feel my heart dancing about all over my chest. I did that eyes-widening thing, which was probably what scared him off. That or licking my lips – completely inadvertently. I was running. They were dry.

There was no denying the electrical charge between us and he looked away, his mouth tightening, alarm skittering in his eyes.

It was as if I’d suddenly scalded him.

After that, he ran a pace ahead of me, as if he felt it would be rude to sprint off but he no longer wanted to run with me. I didn’t blame him. Another fall like that and I could take him out.

Gradually, he stretched out ahead of me and there was no way I could keep up with him. He passed me with a jolly wave on his downward leg as I was panting up the final hill before the turn around to come back on ourselves.

When I finished the course and picked up my sweatshirt and keys from the tarpaulin near the finish funnel, I saw him up ahead leaving the course without a backward glance. With a sigh, I said goodbye to a couple of people and walked back across the bridge over the dual carriageway, stopping in the middle to watch the cars whizz past under the bridge. They were like me and the man called Sam. Cars that passed each other, both headed in completely opposite directions. It had been nice bumping into him again – a bit too nice. Like when you spot a fabulous dress and you hunger for it but don’t buy it because you either really don’t need it or can’t afford it, so you’re good … although you can’t stop thinking about it. And yet you know that if you went back, it wouldn’t be as nice as you remembered; it’s not the dress for you. Well, unfortunately Sam was not that dress. He was still every bit as gorgeous as I’d remembered. And still as unavailable.

Later that day he invited me to be friends with him on Facebook.

‘Well, I binned him after that. Seriously? The man wanted me to wax his back after the second date. He’d even brought along a pack of wax strips!’ My cousin Shelley’s shrill indignation rang out in a quiet moment in the courtyard of the King’s Arms where we and my friend Bel, short for Annabel, were all nursing rather delicious gin and tonics on a school night, which felt horribly decadent.

‘I’d have gone for it and pulled each one off really slowly,’ said Bel, her eyes gleaming with mischievous malice.

‘Where do you find these men?’ I asked, laughing as Shelley took her disgust out on her ice cubes, poking at them with her straw.

‘There’s a special store with my name on it, Shelley Hilton Louses R Us, and they run the production line just for little ole me.’

‘Aw hon.’ I laid a hand on hers and gave it a quick squeeze. ‘That’s not true.’

‘You’ll find someone nice, one day,’ said Bel, with the comfortable conviction of someone who’d been shacked up with their man for eighteen months, three weeks and five days.

Shelley caught my eye and winked. ‘Who says I want nice? That’s my problem; I love a bad boy.’

Bel shook her head. Her boyfriend Dan had written the book on nice.

‘And,’ added Shelley, with a wry smile, ‘apparently I’m too indiscriminate. That’s what Mum says.’

I shook my head, loyalty coming to the fore rather than honesty.

Shelley laughed. ‘Come on, you know she’s right. You never have these problems.’

‘I never have any dates,’ I put in.

‘Because you always say no to everyone.’ Bel nudged me with her elbow.

‘You’re too discriminating,’ said Shelley rather proud of her clever observation. ‘A little bird told me that you got on rather well with a certain Mr Hottie from next door at Mum and Dad’s barbecue.’

I schooled my face into complete equanimity and shrugged.

‘Don’t give me that butter-wouldn’t-melt look.’ Shelley pulled a face. ‘Mum said Mr Hottie was taking a lot of interest. Sorry I ducked out on