Page 20 of Not Falling for the Forward
The shirtless coffee enthusiast has probably forgotten something.
I dash downstairs.
***
Jack
This is so inappropriate.
This is way over the line, and I am intruding on her personal space.
But, I did warn her.
Anxious thoughts that anything could have happened to her after I lost sight of her at that bar have kept me up all night. Emily looked breathtaking last night. That tight black dress had shown off all her incredible curves and just because I wouldn’t take her home last night because the alcohol in her system meant she couldn't consent, doesn't mean some other fucker won’t have tried.
Fuck. What if she brought someone back to her house and he’s still here? A wave of something I can’t name hits me and turns my stomach upside down. No, it doesn’t matter if someone was here. I have no claim on her, just because I wanted it to be me. She’s a grown ass woman and can fuck whoever she wants. I’m just here to make sure she is home safe.
I scoff at my own inner monologue knowing that if there’s some prick here that had his way with her last night, he was going to get his face broken.
Before I can think any more about someone else inside what should be mine, I lift my hand and knock.
I’m greeted by one of the best things I have ever seen. Emily, wearing nothing but a white towel. “Did you forget something?” she asks as she opens the door.
Her eyes widen as she realises it's me. I give her my cockiest smile, “Gooood morning gorgeous,” I roll the ‘o’ in good and decide to finish off with a wink.
She looks to her left, behind the door, and recoils eyes wide, putting a hand to the towel on top of her head as if she’s just remembered it’s there. Clearly there is a mirror behind the door and she’s finally seenwhat she looks like. My smile grows as she quickly pulls up the towel higher on her chest to cover her cleavage, only to display more of her glorious thighs. The sight of her in a towel distracted me and I only just process what she had said when she opened the door. My blood heats as I ask, “Did who forget something?”
Emily’s turns her attention back on me as her eyes scrunch, “What are you doing here?”
WhatamI doing here? I’ve forgotten now and can only think about the fact that someone else was here and she’s freshly showered. But she wasn’t in the least bit bothered about answering the door to someone whilst being totally naked in a towel. Because that other person has probably already seen her naked.
I put one arm on the door frame and lean in, crowding her, “Who forgot something, Emily?” I am so close that I can feel the heat from her breath. She smells like there has been an explosion in aLushshop, lavender, strawberries, vanilla, caramel, as if she has used every product she owns to scrub away the night. I’m staring right into her eyes, and I swear I watch her pupils dilate.
“You answer me first,” her words shake with her breath. But she doesn’t take a step back.
My heart is pounding in my chest. I’m so close to her right now, but I’m still outside of the house with her just over the thresh hold. She could slam the door in my face at any minute, especially if she decides she doesn’t like my answer. So, I pick it carefully. “I’m just making sure you got home okay.”
It is the truth, or some of it anyway. I’m not about to tell her I spent all night in that bar looking for her over the crowd just to get a glimpse of her face. When I did spot her, her head was thrown back in laughter at something her friend had said and it was the most perfect sight I have ever laid eyes on. I’d do anything to make her laugh like that. I’mnot going to tell her once I noticed her table was empty, I left my oldest friend’s stag do to see if she had got into a taxi safe or if she was heading to another bar. I’m not going to tell her about the sheer amount of willpower it took to wait until this morning to check on her and not drive straight over here last night after losing her in the crowd outside. Because all of those thoughts are irrational and make no sense for me to have over a woman I am merely lusting over.
“Oh.” She takes a step back and looks at me sceptically, I already loathe the space between us. “Why?” she asks. And isn't that the million-dollar question.
“I answered yours, now you answer mine, please,” I reply as a way of avoiding the embarrassing truth of the situation.
She looks up at me sheepishly as if embarrassed, “Well I, um…” she starts and is cut off by large hand on her shoulder gently pushing her aside. She stumbles slightly but quickly recovers and moves out of the way and I get a glimpse of the guy. Red clouds my vision and I feel my blood boil as I take him in. Brown hair, shorter than me but taller than her, in smart-casual attire that one would wear out to the club, like last night, like that’s where they met.
My heart is going to beat itself out my chest. I feel myself start to shake as adrenaline courses through my body. I’ve only ever felt like this once before, about twelve years ago when the prick that tripped me, causing me to have to sit out for the rest of the game, got scouted and signed for Chelsea’s under twenty-ones team.
Jealousy, that’s what this is. An insane amount of jealousy. I’ve never felt it over a woman before.
“Thanks for the coffee, Emily. See you around,” this prick says as he leaves her front door and gets into theUberthat had parked up outside Emily’s house without either of us noticing. I track his every step, making sure he has left before I turn back to Emily. I know myface must be displaying the anger I feel because upon seeing it, her own face drops in shame, or guilt? I can’t tell.
“Who the fuck is that?” I ask, attempting to be calm, but it comes out as a growl.
She lifts a hand to where her hair would sit on her shoulders, as if to nervously fiddle with it, but quickly drops it when she remembers her hair is still in the towel. Her eyes drop to the floor and she mumbles, “I, um, honestly I can’t remember.” Yes, that's definitely shame she is trying to hide, “But he’s the one I thought might have forgotten something.”
“If he took advantage of you…” I start, balling my fists.
“Oh no, oh my god! No!” Her head shoots up, a grin that feels highly inappropriate plastered on her face.
