Page 14 of Keeping it Casual
Is he thinking about that now too?
“Uh…you’ve got some ice cream above your lip,” he says.
Okay, maybe not.
I try not to blush. “My mouth has been known to share my ice cream with other parts of my face,” I say. “It’s generous like that.” I grab a napkin and dab the top of my mouth. “Did I get it?”
Dustin leans across the table and gently wipes the corner of my top lip with his fingertip.
My lips tingle where he touched me, and I can’t help letting out a small gasp like I’m some swooning character from a Jane Austen novel.
He pulls back, and for a few seconds, we just stare at each other.
My heart pounds. Oh, holy shit.
“Did you get it?” My voice comes out in a breathy whisper.
He clears his throat before he speaks. “Yeah, I did.”
Chapter 6
Dustin
On Monday morning, I try to concentrate on the report I’m supposed to be writing on the Waitakere District Councils’ waterways policy review, but I keep getting distracted.
Do not think of sexy physiotherapists. Do not think of sexy physiotherapists.
Unfortunately, my brain is very disobedient at the moment.
Jeremy King.
I’ve gone from wanting the whole town to stop mentioning him to my brain chanting his name like it’s the mantra I’m meditating to.
I’m…fascinated by him. I admit it. Every interaction we have makes me want to know more about him.
There are so many layers to the guy. Outwardly he comes across as this goofy, funny, sexy guy but underneath, he’s got a more serious side, as I discovered on our date.
At lunchtime, I decide to stretch my legs in the hope it resets my brain. I head into the shop to see if they have any newspapers, but they’ve sold out.
“So, I heard you had a date with Jeremy on Saturday night,” Joyce says from behind the counter.
Just hearing Jeremy’s name causes a small thrill to race through me. It’s getting quite pathetic.
“Yes, we did have a date,” I say, my voice cautious.
“It’s such a pity,” Joyce says wistfully.
“What’s such a pity?”
“That there’s no sexual chemistry between you two.”
I splutter and almost bite my tongue.
“There’s no what?” I ask when I’ve regained the power of speech.
“There’s no sexual chemistry between you and Jeremy.”
I blink. “Who told you that?”
