Beat (The Beat and The Pulse #1) by Amity Cross

Author:Amity Cross [Cross, Amity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781502311443
Amazon: 1502311445
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2014-09-25T23:00:00+00:00

That night, Ash didn’t turn up to train.

I couldn’t blame him, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to face him. Was it anger, annoyance, humiliation, avoidance or a mixture of all of the above? Either way, I was glad for the breathing space. There were so many unanswered questions and so much tension between us, it was eating me from the inside out. Seeing him on a daily basis did nothing to stem any of it.

I wasn't working the next day and neither was Seth, so I texted him to ask if he would meet me later that night. When he texted back a half hour later with a yes, I was relieved. I owed him an explanation for my awkward behavior. I mean, I couldn't be that kind of woman. The one who used and led people on.

Ash didn't turn up at Beat that day, either. The Twins were well into training for the day with Dad, and Monica was in the kitchen planning a new set of meals. No one had mentioned yesterday's incident, the most I'd gotten was an FYI from Dad that the glazier was coming to put in a new bank of mirrors on Monday morning. If he wasn't there, I was supposed to let him in.

Monica was fuming at me for yesterday, but that was nothing new. Her, Dad, all the stuff with Mum and me being left to care for her...well, that baggage was still around, but nobody had the time or will to deal with it. That was another festering wound that would probably blow up one day.

I'd been grudgingly accepted at Beat and I wasn't sure when that had happened. Was it acceptance or resignation? Who knew, right? I still wanted to keep saving so I could get my own place, but I wasn't so sure getting away from Ash was as high on the list as it used to be.

I snuck out at six to meet Seth at a pub called The Retreat, which was a few blocks away on Sydney Road. It was this haphazard place, like bits and pieces of different buildings had been collected and stuck together with gaffer tape. It looked like the inside of someone's house rather than a pub and the beer garden looked like a typical Aussie backyard. All mismatched garden furniture, green lawn, sans-garden, complete with a Hills Hoist clothesline.

That's where I found Seth, who was sitting on a deck chair, nursing a beer in his hand. The sun was setting, the sky blazing with a thousand shades of orange.

“Hey,” I said, standing next to him.

Seth glanced up and when he saw it was me, he frowned. “Hey.”

I pulled up a free chair and sat next to him. “Look, about the other night…”

“It’s okay Ren,” he interrupted. “I understand.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you. I really do, it’s just-”

“You don’t feel that thing?”

“Will you stop interrupting me?” I scolded playfully, trying to dial down the awkward. “I really like you, but I don’t think there’s more to us than friends.

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