Since Noel, she’d gone to extremes to ensure her life was exactly how she wanted it: organised, planned out, no surprises. Yet Leo had been one gigantic surprise and now she’d come to terms with it, what was she going to do? Lie awake all night, rethinking and rehashing all the reasons why she shouldn’t take a leap of faith? Spend tomorrow filled with regret for not taking the ultimate step and seeing if they were as good together as she remembered?

  Did Leo have any idea how empowered he’d made her feel in giving her total control over how their relationship proceeded? How much of a turn-on it was? Of course he wouldn’t, because he’d never been robbed of control like she had, but he understood enough, respected her enough, to let her call the shots.

  What was she going to do about it?

  With a muffled groan, she kicked off the doona and sat up, tapping at her phone to illuminate the time. 12.22am. This time tomorrow she’d be back in her bed in Acacia Haven, a million miles from Leo and what could have been.

  Mind made up, she padded across the spacious bedroom and opened the door. Soft lights along the floor lit the upper landing and she stepped out, almost wishing for floorboards rather than the plush carpet that cushioned her feet. She wanted him to hear her coming, to give him some warning so he could feign sleep if he didn’t want some crazy woman who couldn’t make up her mind accosting him in the middle of the night.

  Taking a deep breath, she let it out and crossed the short distance to his room. He’d left his door open a crack and before she could second-guess her boldness, she placed her palm against the door and pushed.

  It didn’t make a sound but as she paused in the doorway, Leo’s head turned her way.

  ‘I can’t sleep,’ he said.

  ‘Me either. Want some company?’

  And it was as simple as that. He lifted his doona and scooted backwards, making room for her.

  After one last hesitation, she crossed the room and climbed into bed with him, his front spooning her back, giving her a clear indication of how they could spend their time if sleep was far from their minds.

  ‘I want you,’ she whispered, years of longing and regret making tears well in her eyes as he slowly turned her over and pressed his lips to hers.

  ‘I want you more,’ he murmured, before he set about proving how much.

  With every caress, with every stroke, he alleviated her concerns. His kisses encouraged her to shed her inhibitions. His touch brought her back to life. And when they finally came together, Rayne cried with the beauty of it.

  As he held her tight afterwards, her body alight in a way she’d never dreamed about, he brushed her hair away from her ear and leaned in to murmur, ‘Move in with me.’

  Rayne stiffened and edged away a little so she could see his face. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. Let’s not waste time, Rayne. You and me? We’re meant to be together and I’m too old to drag this out. I want you in my life. All the time, not just for snatched weekends here and there. Us being together again is a gift and we’d be idiots to muck around and wait.’

  As Rayne acknowledged the madness of even contemplating Leo’s offer, deep down she already knew her answer. She’d waited a lifetime for this man and had endured way too much to get to this point. But a middle-aged woman didn’t make impulsive decisions based on the best sex of her life and the magic of rekindling a first love. She led a practical life, remember?

  So she cupped his cheek and said, ‘Let me think about it,’ before drawing his head down for another kiss.

  CHAPTER

  35

  Jy left Melbourne at the crack of dawn to be back in Acacia Haven by nine on Monday morning. He had a few interviews scheduled with the senior kids at school, wanting to incorporate their viewpoints in his report. That informal chat he’d had with Saxon at the farmers market had really struck home and he’d asked Hugo to tee up a few short one-on-ones with the VCE kids.

  He’d done as Summer suggested and spent the entire weekend in Melbourne, all the while wondering what she was up to. He’d hit the gym on Saturday morning and worked out for an hour with a few mates before having brunch at his favourite bayside café in Brighton, watching the usual people parade go by. Mums in upscale designer workout gear and giant sunglasses sipped lattes and gossiped while their equally well-dressed kids sat silent on electronic devices. Groups of cyclists scoffing down açai smoothies and poke bowls. Tradesmen in high-vis gear ordering takeaway to get back to the constant up-scaling and renovations that took place in the wealthy neighbourhood.

  Jy usually enjoyed sitting back and people watching but for the first time he hadn’t lingered, eating his egg and bacon roll in record time and ordering his veggie juice to go. Wanting to keep busy, he’d spent Saturday afternoon doing his least favourite jobs—cleaning the bathroom and fridge—before watching a mindless action flick that night. Sunday had stretched before him with too much time to dwell on Summer, so he headed to the Queen Vic Market, stocking up on his favourite cheeses and antipasto, before realising he wouldn’t be able to eat any of it until he returned home in a fortnight. His motel room in Acacia Haven had a tiny bar fridge that wouldn’t fit half of what he’d bought.

  Annoyed, he’d eaten too much brie and gorgonzola while watching a documentary on seachanges. He’d usually find it boring, but seeing city couples make a conscious decision to leave their hectic lives behind for a slower pace near the ocean reminded him of Summer too and he’d stomped off to bed, wishing he’d stop thinking about her.

  It hadn’t worked and as he strode into Acacia Haven College just after nine on Monday morning, he knew he was looking forward to seeing her way too much. The kids were gathered outside, having some kind of assembly with Hugo, while Jill prepped for a lesson inside. When she caught sight of him, she waved him in.

  ‘Enjoy your time back in Melbourne?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, his gaze sliding around in search of Summer.

  ‘She’s not here. Called in sick for the first time in three years,’ Jill said, eyeing him like he had something to do with it. ‘Seeing as you’re here, why don’t you pitch in and take over her workload? It’ll be a big help to Hugo and me.’

  ‘No worries.’ The last thing he felt like doing was teach when he wanted to get ahead on his report, but he couldn’t refuse without looking like a dickhead.

  She must’ve seen the reluctance on his face. ‘You can still teach, can’t you? Or are you that much of a hotshot principal you’ve forgotten what it’s like to get face to face with the kids?’

  He had no idea if Jill was baiting him or if her snark stemmed from blaming him for having something to do with Summer’s absence, but he wouldn’t let her see how much he’d rather be checking on Summer than teaching a bunch of kids who didn’t like him.

  ‘It’s not a problem, Jill, I’m happy to help.’

  ‘Good.’ She gave a brisk nod. ‘You can take the year sevens and eights for English and maths this morning, and Hugo can reschedule those interviews with the VCE kids to tomorrow.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  But as he half-listened to her lesson prep and what he’d be doing with the kids today, he couldn’t help but wonder if Summer’s absence was genuine or if she was avoiding him for some reason?

  Numbers had never been Jy’s forte and he’d loathed maths when he’d been in high school. But standing in front of a bunch of kids, expounding the virtues of geometry, was surprisingly fun.

  ‘I understand you year eights have covered this last year, but because we’ve got a combined class it won’t hurt to go over the basics for the year sevens. Who can tell me about geometry?’

  There was a collective groan from the sixteen kids and he bit back a laugh. He knew the feeling. He’d hated learning about angles.

  One of the year eight girls, Kylie, stuck up her hand. By the animation on her face, she loved maths. ‘Geometry is about the shape of things. The size and angles and dimensions and stuff.’

  ‘Thanks, Kylie, that’s right. So who can tell me the different angles?’

  Some of the younger kids couldn’t meet his eye and preferred to stare at the table, and he remembered doing the same thing so he wouldn’t get picked on to answer in class.

  Once again, Kylie was the only volunteer. He didn’t want to stifle her enthusiasm, especially as he didn’t know these kids at all, but he’d like a few of them to think.

  ‘Kylie, we’ll come back to you, because I have another question coming up I reckon you’ll like.’ He did a quick scan of the seating arrangement plan Jill had given him to make it easier to identify the kids. ‘Bryan, how about you give it a go?’

  Bryan was the smallest kid in the class and wore giant plastic-framed glasses that covered half his face. He sat at the back and, by his slouched posture, was used to fading into the background. The sheer terror on the kid’s face made Jy wish he’d chosen someone else. But he’d done this in the past, drawing shy kids out in the classroom, giving them gentle encouragement to build confidence. These kids needed resilience, and hiding in a group of more popular or smarter kids wouldn’t build that.

  ‘There’s right angles, which equal ninety degrees.’

  ‘Well done, Bryan. Any others you remember?’

  Bryan sat a little straighter. ‘Acute is less than ninety and obtuse is greater than.’

  ‘Excellent. Thanks, Bryan.’

  The kid practically glowed and in that moment, Jy realised how much he missed this, the one-on-one interaction in a classroom. Being appointed principal had been a long-held dream when he’d first started teaching but nothing beat the satisfaction of helping a student discover their full potential.

  ‘Okay, Kylie, I said I’d come back to you, so why don’t you have a shot at defining complementary, supplementary and revolution angles?’

  Before Kylie could speak, Bryan’s hand shot up. ‘There’s also corresponding, alternate and co-interior angles. Shall I do those?’

  For a crazy second, Jy wanted to leap over the tables and high five Bryan. In only a few minutes he’d managed to get this recalcitrant kid to volunteer information and the fulfilment he felt made him realise that for every major decision he made on Korrungal’s curriculum, for every school assembly he presided over, for every generous wage deposited into his bank account fortnightly, he wished he could do more of this. He’d always loved teaching and being back in a classroom reinforced how much.

  The rest of the maths lesson progressed smoothly and for English, he got the kids to read from their prescribed text then gave them questions to answer for homework. By the time the morning ended, he was exhausted but exhilarated.

  Who knew he still had it in him to command a classroom?

  Jy considered texting or calling Summer after school but if she was unwell enough to pull a sickie he could think of something better. So after a quick stop at Nev’s to pick up some soup—Nev was nowhere in sight, otherwise he would’ve asked her if she knew anything about Summer’s illness—he arrived on Summer’s doorstep.

  She didn’t answer his first knock, or his second, so he resorted to one last thump on the door, feeling increasingly foolish for turning up like this. They weren’t in a relationship and she’d made it more than clear when they last spoke that things had cooled between them. Exactly as he’d wanted when he’d fled to Melbourne, so why did he feel so disgruntled?

  He glimpsed a twitch of a curtain before the door opened and he struggled to hide his surprise. Dark circles ringed Summer’s narrowed eyes, her skin was pasty and she was still in her pjs. Summer looked … hungover. Or she could be genuinely ill and he was an idiot for doubting her.

  ‘I brought you some soup.’ He brandished the brown paper bag like a peace offering when she continued to glare at him without speaking. ‘Jill said you weren’t feeling well.’

  For a second he wondered if she’d slam the door in his face, she looked that put out to see him, before she sighed and opened it.

  ‘Thanks, that was thoughtful. Come in.’

  ‘You feeling okay?’

  ‘Why? Because I don’t look it?’

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ he said, but his expression must’ve been a dead giveaway, because she managed a wan smile.

  ‘I’ll tell you if you don’t laugh.’

  ‘Depends how funny this is.’

  ‘Then I’m not telling.’

  ‘Okay, okay, I’ll try.’

  She puffed out her cheeks before blowing out a long breath. ‘I’m not a drinker, never have been. I went out with the girls on Friday night and ended up doing shots. Fireballs. Ever had one?’

  Jy had never been a big drinker either, sticking to boutique beers or a wine with dinner. ‘No.’

  ‘They’re lethal. White rum, cinnamon schnapps and a dash of Tabasco. But I think after the first few the bartender swapped out whiskey for rum, and mixing drinks isn’t my forte.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘So it wasn’t pretty on Saturday and I spent most of the day in bed. But the girls came around that night and I thought having a few champers wouldn’t be a bad thing. We ended up having a chick-flick movie marathon into Sunday morning, and we were eating and drinking and chatting in between, but the champers didn’t act like hair of the dog.’

  Jy couldn’t help himself—he laughed, and she waggled a finger at him.

  ‘You said you wouldn’t laugh.’

  ‘I’m trying not to, really, but I can’t believe you drank so much over the weekend you had to stay home today. What are you, eighteen?’

  Shamefaced, she shook her head. ‘It’s never happened before. I don’t know what came over me.’

  He didn’t like this morose, defeated version of the feisty woman he knew, so he decided to lighten the mood. ‘Maybe you were pining for me and wanted to drown your sorrows?’

  ‘Yeah, right, that must’ve been it.’ She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth curved into a smile. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly the pining type.’

  ‘Well, I was gone all week, and after indulging in a weekend of this,’ he gestured at his body with a smirk, ‘there might’ve been some serious pining going on when it wasn’t available to satisfy you.’

  ‘Shut up. Want a coffee?’

  ‘Love one. Want me to make it?’

  ‘Actually, that’d be great. Gives me a chance to get dressed.’

  ‘You don’t have to on my account.’ He wiggled his eyebrows, eliciting another laugh.

  ‘If you still find me attractive in this state—’ she pointed to her face and grimaced ‘—there’s something seriously wrong with you.’

  Jy wanted to say he found her beautiful regardless but that kind of comment wasn’t conducive to keeping things casual between them, something he’d striven for all last week by not contacting her, so he grinned and shooed her away.

  ‘Shall I pop the soup in the fridge or freezer?’

  ‘I’ll have it for dinner later, so fridge is fine,’ she said, before leaving the kitchen and heading for her bedroom.

  He noticed the ‘I’ and clamped down on his disappointment. What did he expect, for her to ask him to stay when he’d showed up uninvited on her doorstep? He’d wanted to take a step back after the weekend they spent together, establish some distance between them, and he’d done that. No use wishing for the opposite now, just because she made him laugh and feel lighter than he had all week.

  Being back in Melbourne should’ve refreshed him. He should be toey, eager to wrap up the report and head home. But the damnedest thing had happened when he’d crested the hill leading into Acacia Haven this morning and caught a glimpse of the ocean: calmness had swept over him and he could’ve sworn his fingers visibly relaxed on the steering wheel. Stupid, because he wasn’t here on a holiday jaunt. He had to get a job done, then put this town and everyone in it behind him.

  Seeing Summer now, no matter how dishevelled, gave him that same sense of peace, and he didn’t like it. He couldn’t depend on anyone to make him feel good, least of all a woman he was casually dating and wouldn’t see again after the next fortnight.

  Disgruntled, he switched on her coffee machine, popped the pods in and readied the cups before putting the soup in the fridge. It struck him how he knew his way around this kitchen, as comfortable in it as his home, and a memory of the two of them cooking omelettes after several bouts of rousing sex filtered into his head. He shouldn’t stay. He should get out of here before he did something stupid like touch Summer, caress her smooth skin, make her whimper, like he’d wanted to since she opened the door to him.

  He’d never experienced this kind of yearning before, where thoughts of her invaded his head when he wasn’t around her—and when he was, he wanted his hands all over her. Since when had casual become so complicated?

  ‘How’s that coffee coming along?’ She padded into the kitchen wearing black leggings and a loose pink T-shirt that fell mid-thigh. With her hair snagged in a ponytail and her face freshly washed, she looked about twenty, and he struggled with the urge not to go to her and sweep her into his arms. ‘I haven’t been able to stomach anything besides crackers and water since yesterday.’

  ‘You’re lucky you didn’t get alcohol poisoning.’

  ‘I sure am, Mr Atherton.’

  He laughed. ‘I did sound like a principal then, didn’t I?’

  ‘Just a smidge. So how was Melbourne?’

  ‘Good. Sorted out a few problems at school, chilled on the weekend. How was your week?’

  An odd shadow passed across her face before she flashed a smile that seemed forced. ‘Same old, before the weekend shenanigans. Did you meet with the kids today?’

  ‘Actually, I ended up teaching a few classes because you weren’t there.’

  ‘You look pretty proud of yourself.’

  ‘I enjoyed it.’ The coffee machine beeped and he added milk and sugar to her cup before handing it to her. ‘You’ve got a great bunch of kids.’