Page 43 of Not Falling for the Forward
He leans back so he can study my face, a new intensity that I haven’t seen before in his eyes. “Are you okay, beautiful?” he whispers as he takes his thumbs and wipes away the tears that he created in our moment of passion.
I nod with a small shy smile.
“You’re fucking incredible at that.” He grins down at me. He pulls me close again and kisses me gently on the forehead. “I can’t believe I have to leave for a week after that.”
“Yeah, it sucks.” I shrug.
He lifts a brow at me and I giggle at my accidental word choice. “You suck better, though.” He winks and I roll my eyes.
Chapter nineteen
Emily
My phone pings with a new message and I grab for it a lot quicker than I’ll ever admit, thinking—hoping—it will be another message from Jack. We haven’t seen each other since the board room last weekend. He left for London as soon as the game finished and there were too many people around for us to be able to say goodbye. Not that the goodbye we ended up having is anything to complain about. My toes curl in my socks thinking about it.
He called me on the way to the train and we have been messaging each other every day whilst he has been away. He is extremely busy with meetings, photo shoots and everything else that comes with being a famous man in London, but he has still made the time to call me every night. Even if it is for five minutes before he has to get ready for an event, he makes the time.
Smiling to myself I read my screen to see it’s not Jack after all, but Jess.
Jessie: IS HE FUCKING KIDDING!?
My smile falls off my face.
Jessie: Attachment
I click the attached link and my heart stops. It’s an article from one of those trashy celebrity magazines I love to read when I am at the airport.
Rekindled: Jack Cartwright and ex Samantha Jones spotted in public PDA outside London Hotel.
Oh.
Under the headline there is a grainy picture of Jack and a woman I recognise from a very popular perfume advert. They’re locked in an embrace and from the angle it looks like Jack is leaning down to kiss her.
I’ve seen enough.
I throw my phone to the other side of the couch as if it has scolded me. I can hear my blood pumping in my ears. My eyes start to sting, and I lift a now shaking hand to dab away the wetness that has escaped them and take a deep, shaking breath.
Am I crying? Shit. Why am I upset?
This could be nothing.
They looked like they were hugging, right? It’s probably just a hug between two Ex’s… One of which is an extremely gorgeous model, the other a breathtaking former premier league footballer. Outside a hotel where they may or may not have been in a room together… Fuck, their babies would be beautiful.
I’m spiralling.
I stand and walk around making circles in my living room trying to physically shake off some of the adrenaline that is coursing through my body. An empty pit of something has opened in my stomach making bile run up my throat. I’m going to vomit.
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. Why am I so bothered by this? It’s just a picture, it doesn’t mean anything and even if it did it’s not like we agreed to be anything. We are just getting to knoweach other. We’ve been for one drink. But he has been making such an effort. Why would he call every night? Why tell me he was interested and literally pursue me for weeks if he was seeing someone else? It doesn’t make sense.
Do I call him and ask, or does that make me seem needy and desperate?Ha. I am needy and desperate, but he doesn’t need to know that.
My phone rings, making me jump and stop my pacing. I have to stop myself from diving to answer it, hoping it’s Jack and he can talk me out of my spiral.
Jess’s picture lights up my screen. “Hey,” I answer, my voice sounding small.
“We’re going out tonight.”
“Why?” I ask, rubbing a hand over my face.
