Maybe It's Coincidence, Maybe It's Fate

Biking helped to clear her mind. She knew a lot of girls her age would rather speed off in their expensive convertibles if trouble struck, but she was much more content with her mountain bike.

(There was the fact that she couldn't even drive legally, but she didn't want to think about that at the moment.)

Her uncle had decided to have a party at the most expensive hotel in Leeds. She didn't ask why; she supposed it was something only a lottery winner would understand. Or maybe it was something only someone who didn't have long to live would understand.

No. Not now. Don't think that.

She had a suitcase all ready to go, even though she wasn't staying the night. She was going to go straight to Stuart and Amy's; Joyce needed help with Jack and Daisy, since Stuart would be at the hotel and Amy was going out for the night (God only knew where the hell she was going).

She couldn't continue working at Right Buy U. It was just too much. The new manager was vile, and people were only there to see the syndicate (only to find a bunch of nobodys). She couldn't be there without remembering that Uncle Bob had resigned because of his tumor.

No. Not now. Don't think that.

Think of something else. Lovely flowers. Yes. There were lovely flowers. Lots of them. Odd for October. Don't question it. Enjoy. Keeps from thinking. Thinking about death.

NO. NOT NOW. DON'T THINK THAT.

Her grip on the handlebars tightened as an uncomfortable wave of warmth overcame her. She really just wanted to stop pretending everything was okay. She'd love nothing more than to drop her bike, run out in the middle of the street, and scream. Scream about how unfair this was.

She had to settle for the park. She could sit on their - her - bench and think. Try to calm down…

"Lost in thought, are we?"

She jerked her head to her left, swerving and almost falling off. She hadn't even noticed anyone approaching her. So who had decided to interrupt her internal self-argument?

The red Ferrari was all that was needed for her blood to run cold.

She frowned, quickly taking in his plaid shirt and brown puffy vest. What did he think he was, a peacock? Trying to make everyone on earth notice how outlandish he looked?

She turned away, not saying anything. She continued down the sidewalk, going at a leisurely pace. He wouldn't follow her; he couldn't.

And yet he was.

"You look a bit tense there. Loosen up a bit. Wrinkles aren't exactly flattering on you."

She stared straight ahead, not speeding up, thinking about the refuge of the bench. Just a few more blocks.

"Well, then. We aren't in a good mood today. No reason to be rude."

Damn him. Was he really that insensitive? Had he forgotten what he'd done? What he was hiding? What the repercussions of the robbery had on her?

She felt her feet pump faster, carrying her away from him. She rounded the corner, glad that the road kept going straight.

"Are you trying to pass this off as a coincidence, or are you purposefully trying to annoy me?"

He sat next to her; she saw his vest from her peripheral vision. "Whichever one works for you."

They lapsed into silence. They sat on opposite sides of the bench, just watching the light breeze make ripples on the pond.

"I don't want to talk to you." Her own voice surprised her.

"You don't want to, or you're not supposed to?"

"Does it really matter?" She felt her mouth quirk up at the corners. "You're going to twist it, and make me angry. So you might as well just shut up and leave."

"Where else is there to go? I already went and bugged Stuart, and I've still got a spare few hours."

"You co-own a strip club, don't you? Go pick up a hooker or something."

His hesitation should have tipped her off, but she wasn't thinking at the time to piece it together.

"I find," he said after a moment, "that this -" he slid closer to her "- is much more satisfying."

He swung an arm around her, holding her to his side. She tried to move, but he was stronger than he looked. "Jamie, let go."

"Don't you enjoy my company?"

"No. I'd rather you go back to ignoring me." She pushed him off, frowning at how easy the action was.

"You…you really want that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. Right now…I just…need to think."

She felt his hand cover hers. She finally turned her head to look at him. His face didn't betray anything other than remorse.

She had hoped that her heart would stop racing and her stomach would stop filling with butterflies when he would get close to her. But that wasn't the case. She could feel her cheeks turning red as he continued to stare at her.

She suddenly realized how easy it would be for them to…to…to what? She didn't even want him there. She should bike home, forget about him. What was keeping her on this bench? Why was she still holding his hand?

And why was she hoping that he'd lean in closer?

That kiss under the mistletoe last Christmas. Sitting with him and letting him vent about all his troubles. Seeing that he had a vulnerable side. It was all anchoring her to that spot, making her want something she knew she would regret.

They stayed frozen like that for the longest time. Jamie finally came toward her; she closed her eyes, preparing to push him away.

His lips were on her cheek, making her blush harder. She felt light-headed, unable to do anything but accept his kiss. He let his lips linger before moving them to her ear.

"I don't believe in coincidences," he whispered, sending a shiver through her. "But I believe in fate."

He got up abruptly, as if he hadn't said anything. "I'll see you tonight." He gave her a cheeky smile and walked down the path.

She forced herself to mount her bike and ride home as soon as he was out of sight. She shakily tried to keep her balance the whole way there.

At least she had something else to think about now.