Heart of the Fall

By Joanne McClean

Willow Harrison is happy just watching life pass her by.
Suffering from social anxiety disorder her whole life, Willow has rarely socialised with anyone.
Home-schooled and sheltered from an early age, Willow doesn't know how to react around new people - especially guys.
So, when Eli Kipling crashes into her car on the way to work, Willow finds herself facing her greatest fear.
Eli is smart, funny and hot as hell but Willow feels inadequate around him. Despite this, he offers to take her on date and pay for the damage to her car.
However, when she finds the courage to take her car to the garage, she meets the mysterious Calder Lyndley.
He's quiet and seems a little intimidating with all his tattoos but she finds herself drawn to him. However, he's also just fresh out of prison - rumour has it that he killed someone in a fight.
Despite this, Willow believes there is something deeper behind his warm brown eyes.
But pretty soon, she finds herself torn between the two and faced with a decision that could change her whole life.
The question is which one does her heart belong to?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanne McClean
• Release date: Mar 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311397003

Joanne McClean

Cynic, hopeless romantic, eccentric, daydreamer, nerd, music lover, movie goer, loner, coffee addict, bookworm & writer. What is life if you don't have a dream to chase?

Book preview

Chapter One

Pathological shyness: a form of social anxiety. The inability to feel comfortable around others.

Well, that’s a pretty crap definition. If I had to define it, I would tell you this: the inability to do just about anything normal.

Pathological shyness is not just about lacking confidence and feeling self-conscious or apprehensive.

No, it’s about how every little thing in life is a struggle. It can stop you from leaving the house and even make you feel terrified to be around anyone – including friends and family.

Basically, that is my life in a nutshell and is the reason why – at the age of twenty-one – I have failed to interact with any member of the opposite sex successfully.

Instead, my life consists of my daily struggle to get out of bed and leave the safety of my home to go to work at the library.

I have good days and bad days but mostly I just try my best to muddle through and not deviate from my routine. Unfortunately, I just didn’t count on today being the day that changed everything.

Willow, your breakfast is getting cold. my mother calls softly from downstairs.

I grab my bag and head down to the kitchen.

She has toast and coffee waiting for me, just like she does every morning.

I throw her a small smile as I sit at the table and take a bite of the toast.

How are you feeling today? she enquires, brushing her hands down her apron before she starts to fill the sink with water.

Okay. I say with a shrug. I think it’s going to be a good day today.

My mother smiles at me as she piles dirty dishes into the sink. I’m glad to hear it.

Nodding at her, I glance at the clock – 8.15am. I finish off my toast and quickly drain my coffee.

I’d better get going. I tell her as I stand up. I’ll see you at four-thirty.

My mother gives me a little wave and then returns to washing the dishes. I grab my car keys and head to the front door.

Sucking in a deep breath, I try to clear my mind of any negative thoughts and rest my fingers on the handle.

When I finish counting to ten, I slowly push down on the handle and pull open the door.

The first step outside is a little shaky but once I focus on my destination, my feet carry me to my car relatively quickly.

Once I’m sitting behind the wheel, I mentally high-five myself for no drama. So far, I have kicked Social Anxiety Disorder’s ass for the last hour, the problem is making sure it stays that way.

The drive to the library is normally quite short but the traffic is quite heavy today. In fact, the amount of cars honking their horns in irritation is a little annoying – which doesn’t help my little SAD demon from trying to rear her ugly head.

Concentrating on my breathing, I close my eyes and attempt to block out the background noise. I start to count to ten when I suddenly lurch forward in my seat.

Dimly, I’m aware that another car has rammed into the back of me. However, the only thought that enters my head is to scream uncontrollably.

Which is when the guy from the car approaches the driver’s side window.

Chapter Two

Oh shit, are you hurt? the guy asks, eyeing me in alarm.

I’m in full blown hysterics now, sobbing and wailing uncontrollably. I can’t catch a breath and I know this is the beginning of a particularly nasty panic attack.

Panic Attack: a sudden overwhelming feeling of acute and disabling anxiety.

Yeah, I also have a weird little habit of reciting definitions from the dictionary. For some bizarre reason, it helps calm me down.

I grip the steering wheel hard – afraid to let go – and close my eyes as I try to concentrate on my breathing. It’s an effort to block out everything while I suck in each fortifying breath. Soon, I can feel my heart rate gradually return to normal – just in time for mystery guy to open my car door and gently touch my arm.

Are you okay? he asks again.

I can tell that he’s probably thinking I’m a complete lunatic but I force myself to look him in the eye. Usually it’s a complete no-no for me to do this simple task – mainly because I’m not a well-adjusted person. However, I manage to meet his green gaze – for precisely two seconds – before I glance away.

I – I – I – I’m fine. I babble, trying to stop my hands from shaking.

You’re not fine. green-eyed guy states. You’re in shock. Hang on second.

Feeling a little dizzy, I rest my head on the steering wheel and breathe slowly. Suddenly a hand appears, offering me a bottle of water.

Here. Green Eyes says, urging me to take it after he’s removed the lid.

I slowly sit up and shakily take a sip. Th – thank you.

Green Eyes throws me a smile and I don’t fail to notice how attractive he is. The ambulance shouldn’t be long. I’m Eli by the way.

I nod. Willow.

So Willow, what do you do? Besides get involved in car accidents at the hands of yours truly. he jokes.

Somehow I find the strength to let out a weak laugh. I work in a library. I find myself saying coherently – which is actually a bit of a shock to me.

I must be delirious … because there is no way this conversation would be happening otherwise. I’d be totally freaking out and stumbling over my words and willing myself not to have a panic attack. Then again, I’m not directly looking at him which probably helps.

Huh, most librarians I know are pushing sixty and definitely not as attractive as you. Eli says, flashing me a flirty smile when I quickly glance up at him.

I take in as much as I can in those thirty seconds before I have to look away again. He’s tall, sandy haired and unbelievably gorgeous … and now probably thinks I’m a total weirdo.

Hey, are you okay? he asks, sounding concerned.

I manage to nod but rest my head on the steering wheel again, choosing not to say anything.

Okay but let’s get you checked over – the ambulance’s here now. Eli announces and then promptly heads over to greet them.

Suddenly, a paramedic appears by my side. Miss? Are you okay? Can you hear me?

I nod. Yes.

Great. My name’s Ben. Can you tell me yours?

Willow Harrison.

Okay Willow, does it hurt anywhere? he asks, his eyes scanning my body for injuries.

No. I tell him honestly just as I realise nobody know what’s happened to me.

Suddenly, I feel my chest start to tighten as my heart thuds rapidly. My palms start to sweat as I clench my hands into fists. The shaking follows soon after and I squeeze my eyes shut as I fight for breath.

Willow? Willow … It’s okay. I’m here, you’re safe. I hear Ben say in a soothing tone.

His calming words help me focus and I hear him encourage me to concentrate on my breathing.

Good Willow. It’s okay.

I slowly open my eyes and glance over at Ben.

It’s okay. he repeats with a gentle smile.

I nod, unclenching my fists and rest my head against the headrest, breathing slowly.

Now, when you feel up to it, I’m going to help you out of the car. Is that okay? he asks.

Yes. I manage to say. Thank you.

He throws me a kind smile. You’re okay. Does it happen a lot?

I nod. Social anxiety. I say.

It’s the only explanation he needs since he nods in understanding. Okay, well when you’re ready, we’re going to get you into the ambulance and then we’re going to call your next of kin. Does that sound good?

Yet again, I nod.

Okay, you’re doing great Willow.

I throw him a grateful smile, thankful that he understands my condition so that I don’t feel like such a freak.

Pretty soon, I feel calm enough to get out of the car and Ben helps me into the ambulance, calling my mother on the way to the hospital.

Chapter Three

The police need to take your statement Willow, is that okay? my mother asks gently.

I nod as I exit the examination room and take a seat on one of the plastic chairs lining the corridor. The smell of disinfectant is over-powering and I resist the urge to gag. I really hate hospitals. Always have.

My mother sits down beside me and rests her hand on my shoulder as I quickly recount the accident to Constable Edwards.

He nods and jots down the information in his little notebook. Thank you Miss Harrison. Mr Kipling’s story matches yours and he accepts full responsibility for the collision. The insurance companies will be informed and will contact you soon. Have a pleasant afternoon.

I nod my thanks and then turn to my mother as soon as he leaves.

Did you call the library? I ask, trying to ignore the sudden burst of anxiety that’s determined to claw its way to the surface.

My mother nods. I did. Don’t worry, Ethel understands. She hopes you feel better soon.

Thanks Mum. I tell her, throwing her a grateful look.

I know my mother has had to put up with a lot over the years and I’m thankful that she’s so understanding. She’s always done what’s best for me and I owe her everything.

My mother is a kind, gentle soul and she’s incredibly soft-hearted – especially when it comes to people she cares about. Children adore her and she has the patience of a saint.

As I take in her kind brown eyes and the fine lines on her face, it suddenly strikes me how much she worries about me. It can’t have been easy dealing with a child like me – when freaking out over the smallest thing was a daily occurrence.

Sometimes I wish I was normal and that social anxiety didn’t rule my life but sadly, life isn’t fair.

So, I called Ernie. my mother says, breaking into my thoughts.

The mechanic? I ask as we start to make our way along the corridor and towards the exit.

She nods. Yeah, you remember him, don’t you?

I shrug. Vaguely.

Well, he’s agreed to take a look at your car while the insurance is being sorted. my mother informs me as we make our way to her car. Oh that reminds me, here.

She hands me a contact card:

Eli Kipling

Rice & Bolson Solicitors

Tel: [phone]

He said he’d call you to sort out everything. my mother informs me with a slight grin.

But he doesn’t have my number. I say with a frown.

My mother looks sheepish. I may have passed it on.

What? I say, aghast.

He needed your details for the insurance. she says pointedly. And he is pretty cute. she adds with a sly grin.

I roll my eyes. You’re talking to me here. You know, the girl who struggles to walk out the front door in the morning. I highly doubt any guy would be willing to deal with my issues on a daily basis.

My mother flashes me a sympathetic smile. I know you don’t believe it but I do – someday it will happen for you.

That’s one thing I love about my mother – she always tries to see the positive side of things. For years, she’s believed that I will meet a guy who will understand my condition – and sometimes I almost believe it too.

I give her arm an affectionate squeeze. Thanks Mum.

Anyway, back to my point. she says. Ernie will look at the car tomorrow. It’s damaged at the back but it’s still driveable.

I nod. Sounds good.

You’ll have to leave it off first thing though. Your dad will follow you and then take you home before he goes to work.

I stop in my tracks and frown at her. Can’t you take it?

I know it sounds stupid but the idea of having to talk to someone I don’t know is absolutely terrifying.

In fact, there’s a long list of trivial things that fill me with dread …

I can’t knock on a door.

I can’t dine out alone or ask for extra napkins.

I can’t ask for directions.

I can’t call someone and ask how they are.

I can’t talk to new people.

I can’t live my life.

It’s like I’m confined in a cage that’s unlocked – I can get out but I’ve trapped myself.

It’s like suffocating but I’m still breathing.

It’s not a way to live.

My mother’s voice pulls me out of my troubling thoughts. Well, I would do it but I have a hair appointment tomorrow. Although, I suppose I could cancel... my mother suggests, looking thoughtful.

Glancing at her, I remind myself that sometimes she needs a break from my craziness. It would be selfish to make her cancel her plans.

No. I say eventually, shaking my head. I’ll be okay.

Are you sure? she asks, looking concerned now.

I nod. Yeah.

Okay. she says with a smile. Oh and Ethel says take as long as you need.

I nod, grateful for all the amazing people who make my life seem just that little bit more normal.

When we eventually arrive back home, I head straight for the safety of my bedroom.

I still feel a little shaken from the accident but now my mind is more focused on what I have to do tomorrow.

Already I feel anxious about having to complete what should be a simple task, but I can’t stop my mind running over different scenarios of what could go wrong.

What if they laugh at me? What if I can’t get out of the car? What if I have another panic attack?

These questions plague me until I’m interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing.

I glance at the screen and realise that it’s Eli.

Instantly my heart batters against my chest and I feel my palms start to sweat.

Ugh, I hate talking on the phone.

I constantly feel unprepared since I never know what to say and I’m always scared that I’m going to blurt out something stupid.

Staring at the phone, I take a deep breath and urge myself to calm down before I bravely answer it.

He- hello? I manage to mumble.

Willow. It’s Eli … you know the guy who wasn’t paying attention and rammed into your car?

I let out a weak laugh. Yeah.

Well, I just thought I’d let you know that I’m paying for the damage to your car and that we’re going out for dinner tomorrow night. he says matter-of-factly.

What? I blurt out, still trying to comprehend the fact that I’ve just been asked out on a date.

I feel bad about the whole thing and I want to make it up to you. he explains. Please let me take you out for dinner.

I – I – I … I trail off, unsure of what to say.

Do I accept? Do I refuse? What if I agree and I freak out before I have to leave? Or what if I have a full blown panic attack in the middle of the date?

I can’t handle this much anxiety in one single day. I just can’t. My lungs tighten and I fight to remain lucid.

Cosmo, eight o’clock? I hear him say.

Clenching my fists, I concentrate on my breathing.

Willow?

I close my eyes and push back the fear that’s threatening to take over. Okay.

Great. I’ll see you then.

And with that, he hangs up, leaving me to fall into what my mother likes to call Complete Panic Mode.

Complete Panic Mode (C.P.M.) has happened on precisely one occasion in my life. It was when my mother attempted to leave me off at school when I was five. I totally freaked at the prospect of having to interact with other kids and eventually passed out due to the trauma of it all … which led to me being home-schooled. The less said about that whole fiasco, the better.

I’m not going to lie – there have been a few other close calls. There was the time that I had to complete my driving test. I was