Cock & Bull - Laura Barnard Page 0,78
can tell he’s ashamed with himself by the way his eyes are downcast and his shoulders slump. I just want to wrap him in a cuddle and tell him everything will be okay.
‘And you put that bet on the horse the other day.’ I remember him on the phone in the morning and being in such a bad mood by the evening.
‘You heard that?’ he asks, looking down at the floor, chewing on his bottom lip.
‘Yep.’ I nod with a grimace, wishing I hadn’t brought it up.
He squeezes his eyes shut. ‘Well, I didn’t really get to put it on. All the local bookies have blacklisted me, thanks to Da.’
Now it all makes sense.
‘That’s why you were in such a god awful mood that night?’ He hadn’t lost a bet, he’d found out he was blacklisted.
‘Yeah,’ he admits, biting his lip so hard I’m sure he’s going to draw blood any minute. ‘You’re quite the perceptive detective.’
Then I remember his poker game.
‘But wait, you play poker here with your friends. Do they not know?’
He grimaces. ‘They do. We only play for cents now. I’ve found going totally cold turkey is almost impossible. Being able to still gamble, but not be in the chance of losing any real money, well, it just works better for me.
‘I see.’ Unconventional but if it’s working who am I to judge? I bet that’s why he doesn’t mind us not paying him. No money to lose.
He nods, his eyes guarded. ‘So, now you know. Now you can see why I’m not such an eligible bachelor. How I’m actually a screw up not worth wasting your time on.’
It breaks my heart that he thinks so little of himself. He puts on this big show about loving himself, but really he’s as insecure as anyone. He’s so much more than he realises.
‘You’re not a screw up,’ I snap back, as if he’s insulted me not himself. ‘You’ve fucked up,’ I shrug, ‘we all have, but it’s how we put things right that matters.’
He looks up and smiles at me, his puppy dog eyes doing something to my heart. No matter how many times he bruises it, it still welcomes him back. It’s like it just expands to allow all of his mistakes.
Another question I just have to ask sits on my tongue.
‘You said your mates and the bookies know about your gambling. Is it common knowledge, or is your dad holding that over your head too?’
It would make sense as to why he hasn’t spilled the beans.
He turns to face me, his face tortured. ‘Yeah. That’s what led me to move in here. He threatened to expose it to the whole town. I just… I can’t have everyone know how weak and pathetic I am.’
‘Hey.’ I move quickly, wrapping my arms around him. He flinches at first, but as I push my face into his chest he accepts my embrace and squeezes me to him so hard that I struggle to breathe. He needs this hug more than he’d ever admit.
‘You’re not weak and pathetic.’ I inhale his scent, letting it settle over my frayed nerves. I hate bad blood between us. ‘Your dad should never have threatened you with that. No matter how scared he was of being exposed.’ I rub his back soothingly.
God, how I want to belong here, in his arms, but I don’t. We’ll never be and its better like that. We’d never work, I know now. I could never be with a gambler. I thrive on order and control. Gambling is reckless. I could never trust him.
‘Thanks, Phoebe.’ He starts rubbing my back too, his large hands taking up almost all of my lower back. I curl into his touch, wishing things were different. ‘And sorry for being such a shit the last few days.’
‘It’s fine.’ I shrug, looking up at him. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Its only because I want to know you, the real you. Not the Clooney the whole town thinks they know.’
He looks genuinely scared. ‘Will you promise to keep my secret? Even from Ella? If this gets out…’
‘Of course,’ I promise, nodding my head without hesitation. ‘I’ll keep your secret, as long as you keep mine.’
He frowns. ‘Oh, you mean the chatting to ghosts thing?’ His lip quirks with amusement.
‘Although I’m sure it wouldn’t make my reputation any worse than it already is.’ I snort a laugh.
He takes my chin and lifts it to face him. ‘Phoebe, I know I’m