His Saving Grace

Chapter 3

GRACE

Tess crashed at my place last night. We left the club soon after my irresponsible encounter with the hot as hell stranger, while Bella and Stacey stayed behind, on course to drink themselves into oblivion.

This morning I’ve woken up with a hangover plucked straight from the pits of hell. My mouth is dry and tastes altogether disgusting, so I get up, stumbling from the head rush, and make brushing my teeth my first priority.

Tess must hear me get out of bed because she calls to me from the living room. “I made you a cup of coffee!” Her voice sounds like a freight train pummelling into my ears.

I can’t summon enough energy to reply, so I carry on my business and then turn to the sink to wash my hands and face.

“Ugh,” I mutter to my reflection in the mirror. I look like s**t. My eyes are dark, sunken. My hair is a mess and my skin is dry. My highlights need touching up, too, and I make a mental note to ask Tess to do them at weekend. I refuse to look at my sorry self any longer so I stare at my hands while I clean them, instead.

When I venture out into the small living room I find little comfort in the fact Tess doesn’t look much better. Her hair is shorter than mine and it’s currently sticking out in a thousand different directions. She’s sitting on the laminate floor with her legs crossed, wearing a pair of my shorts and one of my hoodies.

“You need a f*****g sofa,” she whines, pointing to a mug of coffee on the floor in front of her.

I sit down next to her and take an eager sip from the chipped mug. “Do you know how little I’m earning right now? Think yourself lucky I can afford that coffee you’re drinking.”

“That’s what this is? Tastes like piss.”

I laugh at her dramatics. “I’ll splash out on a jar of the good stuff on payday. Just for you.”

Tess studies my face as she drinks the cheap coffee. I look away because I know she’s about to probe me about last night and embarrassment creeps onto my cheeks. What the hell was I thinking?

“Stop looking so ashamed,” she says. “You’re not the only girl to have a one-night stand. In fact, you’re probably one of the few who hasn’t. Well, until last night, but you know what I mean. It’s about time you got some. You haven’t had a good shag since Stinky Steve.”

Oh God. Stinky Steve. I’ve only had two relationships in my life, each lasting six weeks, and the last being with Steve. I’ve never been interested in casual, which makes serious relationships difficult when most other people in their twenties live to have fun and f**k around. He didn’t smell that bad, and he was a good guy…until I caught him in bed with the girl who lived next door to him.

Maybe that’s why I write romance. I’m a dreamer at heart. If I can’t have it in real life, I’ll live it on paper instead.

“I can’t help it. I feel like a slut.”

“You used protection, right?”

“He did. Thank God for that.”

Tess’ face morphs into a funny expression I couldn't decipher but decided not to ask. “Ugh...”

We stay quiet for a while and I decide I need painkillers before my brain detonates inside my skull. I haul myself up and walk the four steps to the kitchen area, plucking a box of aspirin from the cabinet.

Tess follows and puts our empty mugs in the sink with a clatter that makes me wince from the pain in my head. “Put it behind you and move on. You’ll probably never see him again anyway.”

The words stab into my chest and it aches more than it should. I hadn’t finished looking for his story, too distracted by the unfathomable power he had over me. But I can’t stop thinking about those eyes. They held a level of pain I’d never witnessed before. Pain so intense I couldn’t even begin to unravel the tale behind it in the short space of time I had with him. Now, I never will, and I find myself filled with a bizarre sense of regret.

“We’ll stop at the lake on the way to my mum’s tomorrow,” I say, forcing a subject change.

The only thing I really miss about living in Rochdale is my regular two and a half mile run around Hollingworth Lake. I still try to do it once a month before going to my mum’s for Sunday dinner, though. If it were up to me I’d go every week but it’s not worth the earache from Tess.

It’s a stunning place. There’s a path which winds right around the water and takes you through a trail of trees and breath taking scenery. I need that right now. I need to focus on a different kind of beauty than the man whose face won’t leave my head. I need to run until all I can focus on is the burn in my lungs rather than the sting in my body I feel today. It’s uncomfortable, and worse than that, it’s a constant reminder of the night I want to forget.

“Ugh. Please don’t make me,” Tess grumbles. “I still haven’t recovered from last time.”

“That’s even more reason to run tomorrow. You need to keep it up and each time will get easier.”

“You’ve been saying that for the last three years.”

“And for three years you’ve got over your bad mood and done it, just like you will tomorrow.”

Tess scowls at me. “I hope you choke on your aspirin,” she says as I swish the soluble tablets around in a glass of water.

Wincing at the bitter taste, I drink them down in three gulps and slam the empty glass down on the counter. “I’m going back to bed.”

And I don’t plan on crawling back out of it until tomorrow...

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