Page 19 of Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)
“I don’t know. It never came up in conversation. I don’t get the time to visit as often as I used to, before Uni.”
“What do you do? Read to them?”
She shakes her head, but there’s a small smile on her face. “Who do you think taught Brook how to knit and crochet? It certainly wasn’t her mum.”
I’d no idea Brooklyn could do either, but I’m more interested in Mac. “You can knit?”
“No. Some of the residents tried to teach me, but I could never get the hang of it. I spend time with them, listen to their stories. Tell them a few of my own.” She hesitates, as though she’s having second thoughts about sharing. “They kind of like me to sketch them.”
“Really?” I’m crazily pleased she’s still doing her art, even if she brushed off my questions the other day. On Saturday morning, after all, we were still in the weird zone. “That’s great.”
Some of the tension leaves her shoulders.Why was she stressed, anyway?It’s not like her. I’ve the insane urge to sling my arm around her and give her a hug.
A friendly hug.Right.
Not sure our newfound friendship is ready for that.
A couple of hours later, I walk her home. It’s only a few minutes from the pub, and as we cross the Portobello Road, somehow our fingers link together. Was that me or her? I shoot her a sideways glance, but she’s looking straight ahead, almost as though she’s no idea we’re holding hands.
Stealthily, I tighten my fingers around hers, and she doesn’t snatch her hand away. Instead, she subtly leans my way, her arm barely grazing mine, and it’s the sexiest damn thing ever.
We reach her house way too soon and stand by the doorstep facing each other, still holding hands. It’d be funny if it weren’t so surreal.
“Good night, then.” There’s a husky note in her voice I’ve never heard before.
Yes, I have.But only once, and she was in my bed.
“Night.” It comes out like a growl.
Let go of her hand.I tug her forward, and she doesn’t pull back. It’s like I’m sixteen again, taking a girl home after a date, standing on the doorstep before stealing a good-night kiss.
Don’t kiss her.But it’s a faint warning, drowned out by the primal need pounding through me. In the half-light that spills from the miniature streetlamp by the side of the house, she’s gazing at me. Lips parted, breath uneven. And her scent, which has been driving me crazy all night, drifts in the air between us like an unspoken promise.
Closer. Her breath is warm against my jaw, and her fingers tighten around mine. It’s a bad idea.The worst. We’ve been friends again for only two days. Am I really going to risk ruining things again for one fleeting kiss?
Nothing’s worth that. I’m not going to screw this up. I need her in my life. Even if she can never be anything more but one of the best friends I’ve ever had.
Say goodbye and walk away.
Our lips meet, and she’s soft and sweet.Just like the first time. A tortured groan burns my throat, and a shudder runs through her.
Pull back.
Like that’s even an option. I cradle her face, my thumb stroking her heated cheek. She sighs and slides the tip of her tongue into my mouth, and my whole damn brain shuts down.
Blinding light cuts through the night, freezing us to the spot.Headlights.Mac’s dad.
Shit.
My reflexes are shot to hell, but she pulls back, panting. She doesn’t take her eyes from me as she untangles our fingers. I drag my hand over my head. Should I say something?
Like what?
Her dad parks in front of the garage and gets out of the car. She swings around as he reaches us. He kisses her on the cheek then turns to me as if there’s nothing strange about me standing here with Mac. “Hello, Will. Are you coming in for a nightcap?”
I’m guessing he didn’t see the kiss.Thank Christ.
“Sorry. Things to do.” There’s no way I’m accepting his offer. Not when I’ve got an epic hard-on. I don’t think I’ll even be able to walk straight, never mind sit down.
