Page 61 of Enemies to Lovers

‘What?’ he asks, back on the boat.

‘That look you give me,’ I tell him. ‘I’ve never understood it.’

‘What look?’

‘You have a look.’

He continues to give me said look, whilst claiming to have no idea what I’m on about.

‘Let me up,’ Jamie says then, tipping his chin to meanclimb up those stairs.I follow his command, letting him follow, and we get our towels and dry off. When we’re done, we place them flat on the double sunbed in the shade, our torsos covered, legs out in the sun. I grab the picnic and lay out a few of the things, and in our silence we let the air between us settle into something that feels more comfortable.

‘Hey, do you ever think about Christmas?’ Jamie says, when we’ve eaten a little and skipped the wine and hydrated with water instead. We’re side-by-side, both looking at the water, and there’s something about that configuration that feels easy. Looking out onto the horizon together, the boat gently swaying – it’s like being rocked to sleep and letting all your thoughts tumble out of your head so that you can sleep soundly.

‘Yes,’ I say, because obviously I do.

‘Me, too,’ he says softly, and I swallow hard. It had all been so strange, but had also felt so inevitable. I couldn’t put my finger on why. I was feeling better than I had in ages, Jamie was jovial and fun, and there was a spark that caught with in-jokes and staying up talking, after everyone had gone to bed. And one night he told me he was going to knock on my bedroom door, after lights out, but never did. I just got his stupid note instead, and then the next morning he left.

Jamie reaches out a finger and traces it along my legidly. He runs it up and down, sending delicious shivers down my spine. ‘What, exactly, have you been thinking about?’ he asks me, voice low and serious. I part my lips and run my tongue over them – they’re dry. My whole throat is dry. Jamie watches me, assessing me.

‘I want you to kiss me,’ I whisper, because it’s all I can think about.

Something flashes in his eyes – desire, I think, like flames burning brightly where his pupils should be. In one swift move he reaches out to my waist and pulls me towards him, so that I’m straddling him and we’re nose-to-nose. He runs a hand down my back – those damned ticklish fingertips again – and I let a moan of pleasure escape, closing my eyes and exhaling deeply. I feel him swell beneath me, and I instinctively arch my back to grind against him lightly. It makes him gasp, and the sound of it is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. I want to make him utter that noise again, and again, and again.

We pause that way – me straddling him, Jamie hard against the fabric of his swim shorts – and I lower my forehead to his, waiting for the kiss. He uses a hand to pin my wrists behind me and shifts his weight, pushing into me even more, so that I grind against him, once, twice, then a third time, and that noise emits again from between his full lips.

‘Flo,’ he says. ‘I need to tell you …’

‘Yes?’ I ask, continuing to move rhythmically against him.

‘Fuck,’ he intones, and he sounds exactly like I feel.Like he’s about to explode. He says to me, ‘I once promised your brother I’d stay away from you.’

‘Hmmm,’ I reply. ‘How’s that working out for you?’

‘Not great …’ he says.

‘No,’ I agree. ‘I can see that.’

Our lips are so close you couldn’t get a sheet of paper between them if you tried. We’re talking quietly, in between breaths – me focused on what I’m doing, Jamie struggling to both talk and enjoy it. It’s here. It’s happening. We’re going to kiss.

‘Flo,’ Jamie murmurs. ‘God …’

‘Kiss me,’ I tell him again, because I want his mouth on mine.

He lifts me up and flips me over so that I’m pinned down under his weight. ‘I’m serious,’ he says. ‘Laurie – your whole family …’

‘We arenottalking about my whole family right now, are we?’ I ask, trying to sound more outraged than I feel. We could be talking about quantum physics right now and I wouldn’t care, as long as his hand keeps pawing at me this way. ‘You’re part of the family,’ I say. ‘You’re basically Mum’s adopted son.’

‘Exactly,’ he says, loosening his grip. ‘This can’t happen.’

‘Do you want to stop?’ I ask, but I don’t mean it. I part my lips and bat my eyes and sigh again.

‘Jesus, Flo. You’re making this really hard,’ he says, and he gives his cute half smile, marvelling at the effect he’s had on me.

‘Is that a yes or a no?’ I say, and I swear to god, if this man keeps touching me, I’m going to have an orgasm in about thirty seconds – kiss or not.

‘Aren’t you worried?’ he asks.

‘Worried?’ I repeat.

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