The Wilds Read Free Page A

seventeen. He long auburn hair was still cascading in messy waves induced by a night of passion and sleep. She scanned the floor looking for her underwear. Looking back she became aware of him watching her.
    ‘Morning,’ he said, smiling at her.
    ‘Morning,’ she said, without returning the smile. ‘Where are my knickers? For God’s sake I’m going to be late for work.’
    He laughed.
    ‘Don’t wear any today,’ he said with a wink.
    ‘Grow up Jason,’ she said. ‘Stop staring at me, you’re making me uncomfortable.’
    Jason sighed and rolled over, turning his back on her. Here it came again, the regret. It was the same thing every time they ended up in bed together. They would have an amazing night, then the following morning she would act like it had been a mistake. If it was such a mistake, why did it keep happening? He could barely remember the last time that more than a month had elapsed between their nights of passion.
    He spotted her knickers laying on the floor on his side of the bed, he vaguely remembered throwing them there in the heat of the moment. Part of him wanted not to tell her, that part wanted to wind her up. It wasn’t worth it, though, the mood she was in it was best if he was just as helpful as possible. He reached down and grabbed them and threw them across at her.
    She hadn’t always been this way, when they had first got together at school; she had been full of life. Determined, yes, and passionate about her plans to join the police, but she had a fun side too. There had still been flashes of that side of her personality up until recently. In the last month or so it was as if she had dowsed herself in seriousness.
    ‘Thanks,’ she said, and then disappeared into the bathroom to get ready. He didn’t understand how she was willing to be naked with him, make love with him, but unwilling to dress in front of him. It made no sense, except as a way of making it clear that they were not a couple. The intimacy they shared was only allowed to be physical, never emotional.
    Jason found this amusing considering; they had been friends since the age of eleven, a couple from the ages of fifteen to eighteen, and lovers on and off ever since. This was her rule not his. As far as Jason Flynn was concerned Holly Booth was, and always would be, the love of his life.
    He looked at the clock and saw it was only half six in the morning. The shower was running in the bathroom. He considered joining her; they had time for another session before she had to leave, and he couldn’t deny that the thought of her in the shower didn’t make him yearn for more. However, the way she was acting this morning she would be more likely to kick him in the groin if he tried anything.
    He laid there, considering blowing off work, but how could he? They were so short-staffed already that his absence would undoubtedly be a disaster. He didn’t need to rush, though. After all these years he had spent working as a reporter in Darton, he knew that no news ever happened that early in the sleepy little town. He longed to get away, to go somewhere where things happened. The beast was his way out.
    Getting out of bed he pulled on last night’s jeans and sweater. He went downstairs, flicked on the kettle, and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard. Making up the coffees, he wondered if things would ever change. Would his and Holly’s arrangement ever become something more? He hoped so. Many times he had wanted to tell her that he wanted, no, needed more from her. He never did, though, fearing that she would end things completely with him, and the arrangement they had was better than nothing.
    She came in the room dressed in the same trouser suit she had been wearing when she had knocked on his door the night before. Her hair was wet and pulled back into a professional-looking ponytail. As always, for work, she wore little make up, just a little to accentuate her beautiful blue eyes.
    She saw him sat at the breakfast bar and the