Page 21 of Not Falling for the Forward
“He wasn’t here with me,” she laughs. “My friend stayed over and brought him back, I just can’t remember his name and feel awful. We had a whole conversation before; I must have been so wasted last night. I never get like that.” She stumbles across her explanation as if she’s embarrassed at how drunk she was last night.
I almost collapse in relief, she must see this on my face because she asks, “Why would it matter if I’d brought him home?” She crosses her arms across her chest which, thanks to the way her towel is placed, it pushes her tits up, making them look mouthwatering. The sight makes me feral and I have to peel my eyes away to look into hers.Such a fucking gentleman.“Because, Emily, last night you told me you were looking to get laid, and you asked me to be the one to help you out. I thought better of it because of how drunk you were. I would be very pissed off to find out I had been a noble for the first time in my life, and you had still gone home with someone anyway.”
Her eyes flare in shock, “I told you I wanted to get laid last night?” she whispers.
I lean in closer so she can feel my breath on her neck, “You all but begged me to take you home. Saying no when you looked like you did… Well, it almost killed me.” She visually gulps at my pledge and it spurs me on further, “Trust me when I say, if you had brought me home, you wouldn’t be walking this early in the morning.”
A flush has worked its way onto her chest. Her standing here, in her towel, flushed from just my words is one of the sexiest things I have ever seen. I feel that pull again, the same one I felt in the first aid room the other week. She must feel it too because she leans towards me. From where she is on the step to her house, we are almost eye to eye. Her breath skitters over my lips and if I just tilt my head an inch, I could kiss her. My eyes drop to her plump, pink mouth. I bet her lips are soft. I must have given away my intention when my gaze snapped to her mouth, because she flicks her tongue across her bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth. When it pops back out it is wet and shining.
Fuck, I want to kiss her.
A door slams behind her in the house, snapping us out of the moment. “What the fuck are you doing here, Jack?” She almost shouts as she steps back and puts space between us.
Remind me to find out who her cock blocking friend is.
“I told you, I would show up here if you didn’t let me know you were home safe.” I plaster on one of my fake showy grins, teasing her, to try and cover up the fact that I am wound up to boiling point right now.
“What? When?” Her eyes widen and I watch as the memory of our conversation last night must replay for her, it seems to make even more pink flush her cheeks. She must be remembering the feel of her body against mine. I know I can’t fucking get it out of my head.
I take a step back, giving her space to sort through her mind. “I mean, if you’d have used my number, I could have just called you andmade sure you were back, but you didn’t. So here I am, and now I know.” I wink at her.
She glares at me, a small crease between her brows. Her arms are crossed over that magnificent chest, making it almost impossible for me think straight. Time to go whilst I can still physically pull myself away.
I am fully expecting this to be another interaction where I, once again, get rejected by this woman. I reach my car and unlock the door before she responds, “Jack.”
“Yes.” I stare back at her, one hand on my car door, waiting, hopeful. Hopeful for what, I don’t know.
“Thanks for checking on me,” she says with a small smile on her lips.
I nod and get into my car. I’m not even at the end of the road when a text from an unknown number pops up on my phone. I ask my hands free to read it out: ‘Don’t waste petrol, it’s a finite resource, just call. Em.’
I don’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.
Chapter nine
Emily
Six days of saying no.
Six polite declines to dates I have no intention of going on.
Five asked via text from the number I foolishly messaged last week, following the hottest if most inappropriate interaction I’ve ever had on my doorstep.
I blame the hangover.
One was a phone call last night; I know I shouldn’t have answered but I wanted to congratulate Jack on the amazing goal he scored in the game earlier that day.
And now, on day seven, a massive bouquet of flowers has just been delivered to the nurse’s station at work with a hand-written card reading:
Just one drink? - J
I should never have told him I had picked up an extra shift today. Once we were on the phone, he kept asking questions and it felt rude not to answer. He is, annoyingly, very easy to talk to. Last night we had ended up on the phone for over an hour.
‘Something might make your day extra special,’he had said when I told him how I would be spending my Sunday. He wasn’t wrong there.The flowers are gorgeous—reds, purples and yellows, all wrapped up in tissue paper and in one of those box things they put them in. I’m no good at flowers, I’ve never really got them before. I don’t think Chris actually ever bought me them and I think I just forgot they were a thing. These are beautiful and clearly from a very expensive florist.
Show-off.
I smirk as I reach into my pocket to message Jack exactly how much of a show-off he is. I need to thank him and decline his drink invite. Ideally, this needs to be the last message I send him. I don’t want to lead him on. But, over the past week our text thread has gotten longer and longer, and I have found myself waiting for that daily date offer just so I have an excuse to start a conversation with him. He has well and truly wormed himself in to my head. He makes me laugh at unexpected times and his flirting fills me with a heat I haven’t experienced before.
