Accidentally Together Read online




  Accidentally Together

  by

  Jade Winters

  Accidentally Together

  by Jade Winters

  Published by Wicked Winters Books

  Copyright © 2016 Jade Winters

  www.jade-winters.com

  All rights reserved. This novel or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Other titles by Jade Winters

  Novels

  143

  A Walk Into Darkness

  Everything To Lose

  Caught By Love

  Guilty Hearts

  Say Something

  Faking It

  Second Thoughts

  Secrets

  In It Together

  Love Interrupted

  The Song, The Heart

  Novellas

  Talk Me Down From The Edge

  Short Stories

  The Makeover

  The Love Letter

  Love On The Cards

  A Story Of You

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter One

  ‘They laughed at me. Said I was a freak.’ The young woman sat opposite Emma, her long golden curls framing her oval-shaped face.

  Emma swallowed hard. The hurtful things people said never failed to amaze her.

  ‘Who told you that, Louise?’ Emma prompted.

  ‘My …’ Louise hesitated, eyeing Emma cautiously.

  ‘It’s okay. You can tell me. Whatever you say goes no further than these four walls.’

  ‘My friends. They say I need fixing.’

  ‘Do you think you need fixing?’

  Louise’s gaze fell to the floor, and her body curled into itself. In a harsh, low whisper, she said, ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what I feel anymore.’

  Bracing her elbows on her crossed knees, Emma leant forward. ‘Shall I let you in on something?’

  Louise’s head shot up, her expression full of guileless optimism.

  Emma couldn’t suppress the lopsided smile teasing her lips. On rare occasions, she would share snippets of her life with her clients to put them at ease, especially when their struggles mirrored hers so painfully.

  ‘Yes … please,’ Louise said and straightened, her posture open to the information.

  ‘I’m gay.’

  Louise’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. Emma saw a million questions buzzing through her head.

  ‘As a teenager, I was like you. A war raged inside me. Half of me knew who I really was, but the other half fought viciously to stay in denial.’

  Louise’s eyes filled with unbidden tears, but unlike so many of their previous sessions, self-hatred didn’t burn within them.

  ‘How—’ The rest of the sentence stuck in Louise’s throat, but Emma was sure of the question.

  ‘How did I figure it out?’

  Louise gave her a quick, hard nod.

  Progress, Emma thought and continued. ‘Something beautiful … something wonderful happened.’

  An image of full lips and sparkling grey eyes flashed in her mind. Emma let the memories flood her, and familiar warmth spread through her body.

  ‘Something so profound that it irrevocably shaped the person I am today.’

  Louise took a long inhalation. ‘What happened?’

  Lost in thought, Emma twisted a thin silver band on her right hand. Louise waited patiently for her to fill the silence.

  ‘School was difficult, as you can imagine.’

  Louise nodded.

  ‘My last year was especially tough. I was just beginning to come to terms with my sexuality. Even though I hadn’t fully come out, my classmates were more than happy to make me feel like I was different at every possible opportunity.

  ‘One day, as I was walking across the school grounds trying to get to my next class, the usual treatment ensued. People called me names and threw bits of paper at me. A few boys offered to “turn” me …’

  Emma stalled. Even after years of distance and her own affirmations, the memories still left phantom cuts on her skin.

  ‘Go on,’ Louise urged.

  A smile spread across Emma’s lips. ‘Then, out of nowhere, the most popular girl in school walked up to me.’

  The memory of the sun caressing Lauren’s beautiful blonde hair, turning it into a halo around her gorgeous face, pervaded Emma’s mind.

  She remembered Lauren striding towards her, her eyes determined and serious, the uniform, which appeared drab and lifeless on everyone else, showcasing her curves and femininity. Everyone hushed around them as she stopped in front of Emma.

  Emma braced herself for another cutting remark. Lauren had always been a mystery to her—wildly popular, but separate from the pack, like a goddess among mortals. And while Lauren had never bullied her, with a million eyes on them, Emma was sure it would only take a second for Lauren to crack and copy everyone else.

  Lauren’s hand rose, and Emma winced, expecting a slap or a pinch, but what Lauren did devastated her far more. She stroked Emma’s cheek and brushed the loose strands of hair behind her ear.

  Everything around her faded—the noisy chatter, the twittering birds, the horns blown by angry commuters on the nearby road—leaving only Lauren and her mesmerizing grey eyes.

  ‘What did she do?’ Louise asked, her voice as hushed as Emma’s memories.

  Emma cleared her throat, trying to stay present. Her heart fluttered as she said, ‘She kissed me.’

  The sensation of that first kiss, those sweet lips pressed against hers, the delicious tingle permeating her body, and the absolute rightness of Lauren thrumming in her soul—it all confirmed what she’d always known.

  Emma’s arms encircled Lauren, and Lauren leant into the kiss.

  Nothing else mattered.

  Not Emma’s fear.

  Not her hatred or self-loathing.

  This beautiful girl was kissing her, and Emma’s entire universe narrowed to the feel of Lauren’s lips.

  ‘She kissed you?’ Louise’s disbelief was clear.

  Emma did not miss a beat. ‘Yes, in front of everyone. I expected them to say something, but Lauren had shocked them into silence. Then the most amazing thing happened.’

  Louis
e’s gaze was intense. ‘What?’

  ‘I stopped fighting myself. I turned my shame into pride. Don’t misunderstand. I was still very much a misfit and a weirdo, but I was the weirdo with the hot lipstick lesbian girlfriend.’ Emma smirked, and Louise snorted a laugh.

  ‘Things were easier,’ Emma continued thoughtfully, ‘and clearer for me after that.’

  Louise sniffled and asked, ‘What happened? I mean with that girl? Did you guys stay together?’

  Hope bloomed in Louise’s eyes, hope for her future through Emma’s past.

  The old sadness, an ache heavy with regret and loss, pulsed in her.

  ‘Sorry, no.’ The memory of Lauren’s eyes, her bright smile, the sigh on her lips as they kissed, cascaded like a waterfall in her mind. ‘She suddenly left school and moved away. I never saw her again.’

  ‘Was she your first love?’

  ‘Yes.’ My only love.

  Chapter Two

  Emma approached Chez Fred Café. She was late. Damn, she hated being late, especially when it wasn’t her fault. Instead of the hour she’d planned on spending with her mum catching up on family gossip, she’d be lucky to enjoy her company for forty minutes—if that. Forty minutes in six months. At one point in her life, that had been the exception. Nowadays, it was the norm.

  Narrowly avoiding a collision with a couple exiting the restaurant, Emma held the door open and stood at the threshold on her tiptoes, surveying her surroundings. Waiters and waitresses wove between tables in the bustling café. Despite it barely being midday, the majority of the tables were occupied, and a hum of conversation complemented the soft classical music playing in the background. Spotting her mother’s mop of frizzy blonde hair, Emma hurried to her, hoping the perspiration oozing from her pores wouldn’t leave two ugly wet patches under her armpits.

  Without a word, Alex, her mother’s husband, glanced up at her from lowered brows, his fingers fiddling with a saltshaker. Emma avoided his gaze.

  ‘I know I’m late, but we were originally meeting at one.’ To hide her agitation, she glanced over at a child having a full-blown meltdown a few feet away on the floor.

  If the kid thinks life’s bad at her age, wait until she reaches adulthood.

  ‘You do realise we’ve been waiting since eleven thirty.’

  She snapped her head back around at Alex’s accusatory tone. ‘To be fair, you guys changed the time and didn’t exactly give me much notice. I was with a client when you texted. I couldn’t exactly reply while she was spilling her heart out.’

  Alex sighed. ‘It’s irrelevant now.’

  Ignoring him, Emma removed her jacket and dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek. She then acknowledged her stepsister, Hope, with a hug.

  ‘It’s so good to catch up, Mum. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you for ages,’ Emma said as she sat down and reached for the menu. She’d only had a cup of tea and a biscuit for breakfast, and she had every intention of making up for it. ‘Shall we order lunch? I’m famished.’

  ‘We’re not stopping for lunch. Not here anyway,’ Alex said. ‘My mate, Dave, got us a table at the Shard.’

  ‘The Shard! No! Really?’ she said with no attempt to hide her delight. ‘I’ve—’

  ‘Your mum and me are going—by ourselves,’ Alex said, cutting her excitement short. ‘Do you know how expensive that place is?’

  What the actual … Talk about replacing the dangling carrot with a sledgehammer.

  Emma scanned the menu. What was the point in getting upset? The Shard was only a sodding restaurant that served the yummiest food ever! Or so she’d gathered from reading the rave reviews on TripAdvisor. ‘Oh, for a minute I thought—’

  ‘Wait … we wanted to give you your birthday present first,’ Stella said, reaching down beside her. She set a bag onto her knees and withdrew a nondescript, medium-sized box. Flipping the lid off, she plonked it down in front of Emma. ‘There you go, sweetheart. Happy birthday.’

  Emma gaped at the object inside the box while her mind scrambled for something to say. Her gaze flicked to her mum then to Alex then back to her mum.

  Hoping she had achieved the correct facial expression, she said, ‘Wow. What can I say? They’re … great!’

  ‘Are you sure you like them?’ Stella asked, frowning.

  ‘Are you kidding? What sane person living bang in the middle of London wouldn’t be impressed with a pair of …’ She glanced inside the box again. ‘A pair of binoculars?’

  ‘That’s good, ’cause we weren’t sure what to get you,’ Stella said. ‘I told Al how much you loved looking up at the sky when you were little …’

  Emma thought it best not to mention that the actual likelihood of seeing anything in the night sky was practically zero due to light pollution.

  ‘And since we couldn’t afford a telescope,’ Alex said, his deep voice drowning out Stella’s, ‘I suggested the next best thing. It was by chance I found them in the garage when I was having a clear out the other day.’

  ‘You found my birthday present in your garage?’ Can this day get any worse? Surely not!

  ‘Yep. Waste not, want not, as they say,’ Alex said. He looked extremely pleased with himself.

  Smug bastard. Emma shot a look at Hope, who was struggling to keep a straight face.

  ‘Right, now that’s over with, let’s get a move on, Stell.’ Alex pushed his chair back. ‘I want to make the most of this afternoon.’

  ‘What do you mean, “get a move on”?’ Emma asked. ‘Aren’t you even going to have a coffee with me, Mum? They serve one killer cheesecake—your favourite. I can vouch for it being the most delicious one I’ve ever tasted. Do you wanna try some?’

  ‘Best not, Stell,’ Alex said and stood. ‘It’ll only spoil your lunch.’

  Emma flicked back her long, dark hair. ‘I’m sure one bite won’t make much difference.’

  ‘No, Alex is right. I best not,’ Stella said and leant down to pick up her handbag from the floor.

  ‘Fine, go then,’ Emma said, throwing her hands in the air. ‘It’s not as if this is a special birthday or anything. Thirty’s no biggie.’

  Stella dropped her bag and gave Alex an imploring look. ‘Do we have time for one coffee, Al? It is her birthday.’

  ‘All right, just the one. But make it quick.’ Alex’s face darkened with annoyance as he reclaimed his chair. He caught the attention of a waiter by clicking his fingers and beckoned him over.

  ‘Thirty. I can’t believe you’re that old already … and still single.’ Stella fussed with her hair as she said this, appearing nonchalant, but her words cut deep into Emma’s self-esteem. It might have been slightly amusing had it not been true.

  Chapter Three

  The hustle and bustle of London was in full swing outside Braithwaite House in Vauxhall. Behind the entrance door, Lauren pressed her forehead against the glass, her eyes narrowed to slits as she observed every stranger passing by. Not for the first time, she regretted returning to London, but the opportunity had been too good to turn down, despite the risk. Sensing there was nothing to be alarmed about, Lauren pulled open the heavy door and stepped out under the canopied entrance. Turning towards her destination, she paused.

  Come on, come on. You can do this. Just put one foot in front of the other and go. It was silly to feel apprehensive after so many years had passed, but being back in London for the first time since it had all happened unnerved her.

  She started down the pavement and had barely walked a hundred yards, when, without warning, a hand closed over her right shoulder from behind. Panic overrode her mind. Her temples thumped and a faint buzzing filled her ears. Instinctively, she grabbed the wrist, twisted it with all her strength, and she spun around to face its owner, ready for a showdown.

  A slim man around the same height as her, sporting a wayward mass of hair and dressed in a scruffy t-shirt and black jeans, stared back at her. He looked more like an immature man-child than the imposing monster she’d been expecting.


  His thin face creased in pain, and he yanked his hand back. ‘Jesus, Lauren, easy. You could’ve broken my wrist. It’s me, Mike. Remember? From school?’

  Lauren gawked at him, frozen. Her hammering heart slammed against her ribcage. No one had called her that name in public for years. Not since …

  ‘You really don’t recognise me, do you?’ Honest confusion rose in his voice. ‘I haven’t changed that much, have I?’

  Shit, and neither have I by the look of things. Lauren pulled her black hoodie over her head. She had deliberately dressed down in jeans and a leather jacket, naïvely believing she could blend in with the hundreds of other ash-blonde women in London. Obviously not.

  ‘You’re mistaken,’ she snapped. ‘My name isn’t Lauren.’

  Mike’s eyes burnt a hole in her back as she scurried down the road.

  Before she reached the edge of the pavement to hail a taxi, he called out,

  ‘Who you trying to kid? I never forget a face. Especially yours, babe. Never!’

  Lauren jumped into the back of the cab and gave the driver the address. Slumping against the hard leather seat, she willed herself to calm down and stop blowing innocent incidents out of proportion. Okay, so he recognised me. Big deal. He didn’t see what building I came out of—or did he? Great, paranoia strikes again.

  Gulping down the bile that had heaved up into her throat, she twisted around in her seat to look at Mike, who was still standing in the middle of the pavement. She remembered him all right. How could she forget? He was one of the creepiest people she had ever met.

  By the time the taxi dropped her outside the Cotes House Art Gallery, Lauren’s apprehension had turned to excitement at the prospect of having her very first exhibition in London. Though she’d had several exhibitions throughout Europe, holding one on her home turf felt special.

  She opened the door and caught sight of Frankie, her long-time agent, leaning against the wall, legs locked at the ankles. He was tall and powerfully built, with a thick, dark tangle of hair. A tight white t-shirt and red waistcoat covered his muscular torso and his thick thighs were encased in a pair of fitted jeans. In front of him, a thin woman, no older than twenty, hugged a folder to her chest as she rocked back and forth on her heels.