Page 69 of Wish You Knew
Rosie threw a cushion at my head. I ducked to one side, then leapt on her, pinning her body underneath mine.
“I wouldn’t mind if you did though.” My lips hovered dangerously close to hers. It certainly hadn’t done Jason Statham any harm being hooked up to a Victoria’s Secret model.
“Seriously, you two, do you ever get dressed?” Bas’ voice floated into the living room, totally ruining the mood. “Not exactly the best way to greet your guests.”
Reluctantly, I lifted myself and returned to the upright position, careful to ensure no-one could see my growing erection. I grabbed the cushion Rosie had thrown at me and placed it in my lap to be sure.
“You’re the only one here so far.”
“Our mums are meeting at the station.” Bas threw his holdall down on the floor. “And what about your other friends?”
“Saff said she’d text me when they’re on the train,” said Rosie, rearranging my t-shirt to cover herself up too. “Knowing how great she is at time keeping, don’t expect them any time soon.”
What had seemed like a good idea at the time, to invite our closest friends and family to the house for a party, now seemed like the wrong decision. I wanted Rosie all to myself, uninterrupted alone time.
Not to mention the enormous elephant in the room in that I’d never introduced my mum to any of my girlfriends before. Never, in twenty eight years. Then again, I hadn’t actually had someone I’d thought worthy of the title.
Rosie was worth everything.
“I guess we should get ready,” said Rosie, lifting herself off the sofa, but not before giving me a little flash of the bright pink lacy knickers she wore. “I’ll get in the shower first.”
“I could join you? We’d save time?” I perked up at the thought.
“Scott, we would never save time if we showered together.” She grazed the side of my head with her lips.
“Ugh. Too much information.” Bas wrinkled his face up. “I’m going to get a coffee. Was at a new club opening last night and didn’t get back until after four.”
They left the room together, chattering about the club Bas had been to. I sank back onto the sofa, letting my head fall back and stared at the ceiling.
This whole relationship thing had me behaving like a teenager again. Sweaty palms, hitched breath, inappropriate erections. All of it could be attributed to Rosie.
Two hours later, the house felt crowded. I’d been used to it being fairly empty, usually me and maybe one or two others. But with friends and family, it suddenly had the ambience of the party house it was meant to be.
Rosie looked absolutely gorgeous in a flower-patterned dress, which clung to every single one of her curves, and flowed down to just below her knee. She’d paired it with white Converse, keeping it casual. Her blonde hair was in a half-up, half-down do, tendrils framing her face. It had me itching to sweep them behind her ear, taking the time to trace a line down her jaw.
Being in love had turned me into a complete sap.
Love.
It still seemed strange to use the word.
One which hadn’t been in my vocabulary until now. Until Rosie.
“Scott.” Fingers caught my elbow.
I turned to see Mum smiling at me. We’d not had the chance to speak since she’d arrived with Vivian. On arrival, they’d promptly taken two gin and tonics into the garden, and only returned a few minutes ago.
Glassy eyes made me think the drinks had been more gin than tonic, but I was hardly one to complain.
“Vivian’s been telling me about Rosie.”
I glanced over to where the pair stood, heads bent close together, chattering away. Rosie hadn’t shared much of her relationship with her own mother, so I had no idea whether they were close.
“She’s…” I stopped. I honestly couldn’t put into words what she meant to me. There were superlatives, meaningless phrases which ultimately meant nothing to anyone else.
“I know, Scott.” She drew me into a hug, filling my head with her familiar perfume. “I can see simply by the way you look at her how much she means to you. I’ve never seen you look so happy.”
Rosie caught my eye, and I waved her over. When she arrived, I pulled her close to me, snaking a hand around her waist. “Rosie, this is my mum.”
