Page 89 of Spiralling Skywards
“Hey.” He gave me a small smile, but his eyes looked sad.
“Hey,” I replied. “You wanna cup of tea?” I knew the answer would be yes without him replying. Will always wanted a cup of tea. Because of his job as a night club manager, Will wasn’t a big drinker. I wasn’t sure if it was because he needed a clear head to work nights or because he’d witnessed night after night the effects alcohol had on people and the choices they made.
“Yeah, I’d love one. Thanks.”
I turned and pulled a litre carton of milk from the fridge, wishing that the kettle would hurry up and boil so I had something to occupy myself with.
“I’m sorry, Sarah.”
My heart performed a little hopscotch manoeuvre in my chest. Will never called me Sarah. I was always “Sunshine”, with a very occasional “Sun” or “Sunny” but never just Sarah. I turned around. He’d moved from the far side of the breakfast bar to lean against the side nearest me, arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankles. He was wearing jeans with a suit jacket, a scarf was wrapped around his neck, and a flat cap, the kind my grandad wore, was pulled down low on his head. His blue eyes looked out from beneath the peak.
Will had the most striking eyes, the blue stood out against his dark hair, lashes, and stubble. He wasn’t classically good-looking, his teeth weren’t completely straight and perfect and neither was his nose, but there was just something about him. Something definitely masculine and as sexy as fuck. Just one look from those blue eyes would have women removing their knickers and tossing them over their shoulder. Without a single word, he could tell the world, “I like to fuck, and I do it very well.”
I’d spent years wanting him to notice me. Years wanting him to look at me the way that I’d seen him look at other women, to be on the receiving end of that stealth-like, predatory gaze, but now? Now I didn’t know what I wanted.
My cheeks were on fire. I wasn’t sure if it was my lustful recollections of the way Will used to make me feel, or if it was the attention I was finally receiving from him.
My blood bubbled in my veins at about the same temperature as the water bubbling in the kettle behind me. It clicked, switching itself off, and the room fell quiet. I turned and poured hot water over the tea bags in each of our cups before turning back to him.
“What are you sorry for?” My mouth didn’t feel right. My lips stuck to my teeth, my tongue felt too fat. I was nervous. Why? This was the same Will Bennett I’d always known...
“Sunday night. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I should’ve spoken to you before saying anything in front of everyone else.”
He pulled off his hat and unwound the scarf encircling his neck. He had on a white V-necked T-shirt underneath his jacket, and I stared at the dark hair at the base of his throat. He swallowed, and I studied his Adam’s apple, watching it move. My eyes drifted up to meet his but then wandered back down to his mouth, which was just a bit more perfect then I remembered it being.
Sex.
Everything about this man was sexual.
But it wasWill, my brother’s best friend. One ofmybest friends.
“Sarah,” he said on an exhale at the same time as he stepped towards me. I instantly put up my hand in a stop gesture. I would’ve stepped back so I could retreat further, but the kitchen cupboards were right behind me.
“Please stop calling me, Sarah. Stop being so formal. I can’t even remember the last time you ever called me Sarah.”
My words came out in a rush, I sounded panicked, mildly hysterical even. I turned back around and finished making our tea. Walking straight past him, I placed our cups on either side of the breakfast bar.
“You wanna biscuit? There should be some Hob Nobs in the cupboard.”
“Na, I’m good thanks. I think the Hob Nobs bit the dust Sunday night.”
“Oh. Well speaking of Sunday night—”
“I’d rather we didn’t.”
I sat down, he did the same.
“Will, you’ve been a part of my life for such a long time, I hate this tiptoeing around each other. Just be honest with me. Stop saying sorry. Stop calling me Sarah, and just tell me what’s going on.”
He smiled. A real genuine smile that reached his eyes.
“I fancy the fuck out of you. I have for a long time now. One minute you were running under the sprinkler in a navy-blue swimsuit with little red ladybirds on it and the next you were lying on a sunbed, asking me to rub cream into your back, all tits, arse, hips, and curves. I’ve watched you grow up. What I was—am feeling, it makes me uncomfortable, but I can’tnotsay something. I need you to know.”
He raked his hand through his hair and then sipped on his tea. I wrapped my hands around my mug and stared at him.
“I planned to say something at your brother’s party, but Blinky fucking Bill turned up and I didn’t get a look in.”
“Blinky Bills a koala,” I told him, trying not to smile.
