Page 87 of The Alternate Captain
I feel like a nosey neighbour, twitching at the curtains to peek outside, and sure enough, Johnny is leaning against the side of his car, his phone pressed against his ear.
I signal for him to meet me at the front door, and I hang up, giving myself a moment to settle my heart.
Taking in deep breaths, I open the door.
He’s dressed in chinos and a button-down shirt which makes his biceps look like they’re trying to pop out, which would probably look try-hard on anyone else. But I forgot how fucking effortlessly good-looking he is. He doesn’t even need to try. He probably rolled out of bed like that.
“Thanks for the flowers,” I say.
“No problem. I remembered you had that pollen thing, so I figured it’d be a better idea.” He pauses for a moment, looking down at his feet before he lifts his head and looks me right in the eye. “I know you may not be ready to speak with me yet,but I couldn’t take it any longer. I’m sorry, Kelly. I’m honestly so sorry—I’m shit with words and feelings, so I figured trying to show you how sorry I am would be a good idea. I know it’s not enough, but... damn. I don’t even know what to say.”
Everything about him makes me want to melt. I don’t even know how to describe it. Seeing him standing here on my doorstep, apologising. I can’t.
“Can I take you out?” he asks.
“What?”
“Can I take you out? For real. Not that it wasn’t real to me before. But for real, for real. Just us.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I say.
“What? Take you out?” he says.
“Honestly, Johnny, what are we doing? Because I have no idea.” I build a scenario in my head before explaining. “Say you take me out and we have fun. What happens when you shut me out again? Another bunch of flowers? Another note of apology?”
“You’re right. I don’t have an answer. And all I can say is I’m sorry. And that I’ll try. I am trying, Kelly. But if that’s not good enough, then I understand.” He pauses for a moment, and the sadness on his face is so genuine. “I really fucking like you. Like I haven’t ever liked anyone before.”
He looks down at his feet, then takes a breath before turning away and taking a step back towards his car.
But I don’t want him to go.
I want him to stay.
I want him.
“Johnny? Wait, please.”
And it’s like a Hollywood movie moment. Completely ridiculous, really. And if I was witnessing this as an outsider, I’d probably scoff and pass judgement. But I run towards him, in my pyjamas, and I cup his face in my hands, pulling him towards me to kiss him.
I kiss him like my body relies on it to keep me alive. Hot breath, tongues ever so gentle, touching and caressing. And when his hands move from his sides to cup my ass, I don’t even care who’s looking—anyone could walk past, but I’ve gone from zero to one hundred. Gone from not being sure to never being so sure about anything in my entire life. Because some people do this—they have a secret passageway directly into your soul that even you can’t block.
I break away, his forehead still touching mine as we fall into a stare. Looking right at each other as we share the same breaths.
Then I ask him a no regrets question. “Do you want to come inside?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says, his breath heaving from the kiss.
“What—”
“Not because I don’t want to. But because I haven’t stopped thinking about you and what I—it’s all or nothing for me now, Kelly. No more fucking around with fake dates.”
My body burns with a heat for Johnny. “Do you want to come inside?”
“I have a confessionto make,” I say ten minutes into our make out session.
Kelly breaks free of my grasp and looks me right in the eyes, terror on her face.
“What? Did something happen at speed dating?”
