CHAPTER 2
She knocked on the door. Soon it was opened, but not by Jenny. Instead, it was her father. Robin smiled, happy to see him.
Although he was Jenny’s father he didn’t really seem like a parent. He was in his late thirties – he must have had Jenny when he was quite young – and looked good for his age. He was tanned with a strong jawline and a good build. He had short dark hair with a few flecks of gray.
He always had a slightly unshaven look and the hint of stubble suited him. Jenny’s mother hadn’t been around for years and he’d raised her on his own. As soon as he answered the door he broke into a smile that was contagious.
“Robin!” he said, “Good to see you! What can I do for you?”
“Hi Simon,” she said. He had always insisted on being called by his first name, “I just came to drop Jenny’s bag off for her, is she in?”
“No. Chris came by and picked her up. She said she sent you a message to tell you what she was up to?”
Chris. Of course, her boyfriend. He must have called and she dropped everything. Robin took her phone out and saw that she did, in fact, have a message.
“Oh. Oh well. Can I just drop this off with you?” she asked, holding up the bag.
“Well, why don’t you come in? We can have a little catch-up.”
“Sure, why not?”
She followed him into the house. It would be good to hang out with him for a bit. It would probably be more fun than just sitting at home alone fighting the temptation to give John a call – although maybe not more fun than giving in to the temptation.
Simon led her through to the kitchen and poured her a glass of orange juice. They started chatting, with Simon asking her how college was going.
“Not partying too much?” he asked, teasing her.
“Oh, you know me. Trying not to burn the candle at both ends too much.” “Met any nice guys?”
When he asked, she thought that he seemed to be paying particular attention to her, as though he was very interested in her answer.
He had asked it casually enough but there was something in the way he looked at her that she thought suggested that this was a question he really wanted the answer to. She felt slightly flattered that he was taking this interest in her love life. She even wondered for a moment if he might be jealous if she gave him the wrong answer.
“Oh, you know,” she said as casually as she could, “not really. No one special, anyway.”
“Ah, I bet they’re queuing up to take you out!”
“Well, that’s OK. I don’t mind that. It’s what they expect afterward that is the problem.”
She was being very open with him, but then she’d always been able to talk to him like that.
He was looking at her intently again.
“I see,” he said. She met his gaze and held it. In the end, however, she was the one who looked away first. She felt as though she was blushing slightly.
He stepped over towards her. He seemed to be looking her up and down. She felt very self-conscious for a few moments but then it seemed to pass and she felt a warm glow of satisfaction at the way he was looking at her.
“Would you like a top-up?” he asked as he reached out to take her glass.
His fingers brushed hers – she felt as though they slowed down when they touched her as though wanting to keep this moment going and see how it felt to touch her.
She wasn’t complaining, not at all. She liked how it felt to be touched by him. She was surprised to find just how much she liked it.
How long had it been since a man had touched her? She had done her best to avoid getting into any situations at college that might get awkward. She was realizing now that she really missed it. It felt good.
He took hold of the glass and for a moment she didn’t answer, didn’t let go of the glass. Then when she felt him tug at the glass she felt as though the spell was broken and she loosened her grip.
He took it away from her and she saw that he was looking at her, his eyebrows raised, waiting for her answer.
“Oh!” She said, “No, I’m fine. Really.”
“OK.”
He put the glass down on the kitchen counter but he didn’t move back. He stayed there, right in front of her, looking down at her.
She wondered for a moment if he was standing too close to her if there was something not quite appropriate about how close he was standing to her.
She had to admit that she liked it, however. It felt comfortable somehow. Natural. Why shouldn’t it, anyway? She smiled at him and he smiled back. She could feel her heart beating faster. Why was that happening, she wondered to herself. She felt strange.
“You are a beautiful young woman,” he said softly. He reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear and then placed his hand softly on her face.
Involuntarily, without even really realizing what she was doing she turned her head slightly toward his touch, leaned slightly into it. Her eyes closed and she struggled not to let out a little sigh. Somehow she felt so relaxed. His touch felt so natural.
She opened her eyes and he was looking closely at her. It was as though he was looking for some kind of reaction, some way of knowing if what he was doing was OK… or not.
Robin didn’t even know if it was OK. Her head was spinning. She didn’t say anything. She met his gaze but, once again, she looked away first. Then she looked back and he was still looking at her. His hand was still there, a warm and reassuring presence.
Part of her wanted to step away from him but part of her didn’t want to, wanted to see where this would go next. Her indecision and uncertainty left her frozen to the spot.
Before she could decide just what she wanted to do, however, he stepped back. Her eyes went quickly to his hand as he put it back at his side. She could still feel it, feel where it had been on her face. An impulse told her to reach up and stroke her face where his hand had just been.
She had to fight the impulse, but all the same, she still felt her hand twitch slightly.
“Well,” he said, almost brusquely, “if you don’t want anything else to drink shall we move things through to the other room? We’ll be a bit more comfortable there.”
Comfortable for what? She wasn’t quite sure what he meant. The thought suddenly became clear in her mind – something might be about to happen.
She wasn’t quite sure just what it was but for one crazy second, she could imagine the thing that she had wanted the most might actually now happen. She told herself that she was being ridiculous. What would he see in her? Really? But then she did think that she had noticed him looking at her differently.
When did it start? Just before she went away to college, she thought it was. It was as though he suddenly stopped seeing her just as Jenny’s friend and started to see her as… something else.