Page 4 of Not That Ridiculous

“I’m in a sassy mood today,” Adam said. “Think I’ll treat myself to some bubbles.”

I grabbed him a bottle of sparkling mineral water from the fridge. Because he hadn’t specified otherwise, I selected the most expensive one. No San Pellegrino for Adam, no sir. He could have the one that was bottled in the grounds of the local stately home. The one in the heavy glass bottle that all the tourists paid an extra fifty pence for because it looked great on Instagram.

As I thrust the bottle across the counter towards Adam, Kevin straightened, and I clocked him in the face with it.

We all held still for a surprised moment.

“Ow,” Kevin said in a small voice.

“Kevin. Oh my god. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

“No, it’s—shit. I got you good. Come here.” I gestured at him impatiently, and when he didn’t seem to know what I meant, I leaned over the counter and took his face between my hands, tugging him closer. “Let me look.”

He obligingly held still and let me look.

And I would. Any minute. Right now, though, I was busy.

Busy gazing into his lovely eyes which were currently about three inches away from mine.

They weren’t a gingerbread brown like Ray’s, or a chocolate brown like Jasper’s. They were a solid, plain dark brown and I didn’t know why I liked them so much. His pupils were large, and he had sweet, short lashes.

He blinked. Right. Yes. I was checking his face for…

His warm, sweet face.

Which I was cupping tenderly, absorbing the feel of his skin against my palms—soft on his cheeks, rougher along his jaw, with the faint grain of stubble under my fingertips.

I rubbed my thumb under the eye socket where I’d managed to punch him with the solid glass bottle. He didn’t flinch, but the skin around his eyes tightened briefly.

“Is he going to live?” Adam said dryly, and snapped me back to reality.

The noise of the coffee shop crashed back into my awareness.

Or it should have, except there was no noise to speak of. You could have heard the proverbial pin drop.

Everyone was poised in rapt silence, watching me cup Kevin Wallis’ face while he stood there docilely and let me do it.

I released him and shoved myself back to my own side of the counter. “Looks like it. You want some ice, Kevin, or…?”

“I’m okay.”

He sounded sincere, but his bottom lip was poking out the tiniest bit.

I flung an extra muffin on his plate, pushed the lot at him, and whisked myself into the kitchen.

Once out of sight, I put my back to the wall, covered my face with both hands, and silently screamed.

No.

I refused.

Irefusedto be in love with Kevin Wallis.

It was absurd. A colossal waste of time. Nonsensical.

Even Jasper had been a pointless crush, and Jasper was as gay as I was.

---