Page 15 of Keeping it Casual
“Jeremy did.”
My eyebrows fly up, and I put a hand on the counter to steady myself. “Jeremy told you that there’s no sexual chemistry between us?”
“Yes. I asked him how things were going, and he said that you were a great guy, but there wasn’t any sexual chemistry between you.” She leans over to pat my hand. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find someone one day. You can’t force what isn’t there.”
My mind whirls as I leave the shop. Jeremy’s telling people there’s no sexual chemistry between us? What the hell?
My legs seem to have a mind of their own. Because instead of heading back to my place, I find myself striding toward the converted villa on the main street that houses Jeremy’s physiotherapist practice.
I enter just as the receptionist stands from behind her desk.
She blinks at me, startled. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Um…no. I’m actually looking for Jeremy.”
As I say the words, the man himself comes out into the waiting area.
He’s dressed in professional physiotherapist mode, a smart polo shirt and track pants, and my heart skips a beat. Why is everything about this guy just so delicious?
“Dustin.” He stops still. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure. Come through to my office.”
“I’m taking my lunch break now,” the receptionist says to Jeremy.
“Yes, that’s fine, Carolyn.”
I follow Jeremy down the hallway, past the open door to what looks like a treatment room, and through to his office. Following him gives me a great chance to scope out his ass in tight track pants, which should be sandwiched between the Grand Canyon and the Great Barrier Reef as one of the world's natural wonders.
Jeremy’s office is a small room with a simple desk, chair, and filing cabinet. He shuts the door behind us and then leans against his desk, crossing his arms casually as his gorgeous lips twist into a saucy grin. “How can I help you, Dustin? Do you have an emergency requiring a physiotherapist?”
“You told Joyce we had no sexual chemistry,” I say.
His smile morphs into a smirk. “Oh, that.”
“Yes. That. I was just in the corner shop, and Joyce reassured me I’d find sexual chemistry with someone eventually.”
Jeremy unfolds his arms, holding them up in an innocent gesture. “You know what this town is like. I had to come up with a convincing reason to explain why we won’t have a second date.”
“You couldn’t just stick with the explanation that we didn’t get on?”
He gives me a skeptical look. “Dustin, I’m pretty sure most of the town knows we talked our way through two bottles of wine and stayed at the restaurant until they had to kick us out.No one was going to believe our original explanation, so I had to come up with another one.”
“And you couldn’t think of anything else but that?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “What’s the problem with my explanation?”
“My problem is we would have fantastic sexual chemistry, and you know it,” I growl, stepping close to him.
His eyes widen and he licks his lips. I can’t help following the movement across those incredible pouty red lips.
He shrugs, looking down for a moment before looking up at me through his lashes. “I’m a man of science. And that fact hasn’t been proven.”
The invitation in his eyes is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Because fuck it, there’s only so much self-control a man can have around Jeremy King.
I close the distance between us, and my point is proven as soon as my lips are on his.
