I liked that about him from our first date. His message was brief and fun, and it manages to charm me all over. He’s a good boyfriend, and I’m truly the luckiest girl.
I tap on the green phone icon and find his name at the top of my favourites. We’ve only spoken once today, and now I miss him.
“There she is,” he says after a second ring.
“Hi. So, you miss me already?”
“Of course. Especially your lips—badly. I thought of them, too, a few times today.”
“Oh, really? And how did you manage?”
“Let’s just say business communication classes and market analysis helped numb the pain.”
I laugh, leaning against the counter.
“How are the lobsters?” he asks.
“Hey, that’s not all there is here. Don’t you diss it! Maine is beautiful. We should come here together.”
For one reason or another, I’m already regretting that statement.
“That sounds nice, baby. So tell me, what are the two of you up to tonight?”
Oh, nothing special really except I had eye sex with a stunning British guy.
“Sofie invited some acquaintances for drinks, and we’re sitting around a fire. You?” That was fairly honest. I give myself a mental high five before succumbing to the urge of slapping myself.
Ryan tells me about his training and schoolwork as I struggle to sound interested. My head feels heavy on my shoulders, and I run cold water and fill a glass. I manage a few words, hearing him but not truly listening, and succeed at not putting my indifference into words or sighs. My apathy upsets me, but I know it’s because I’m lazy on my feet. After amorous salutations, we end our conversation.
“So, you managed to escape?” Alec startles me.
I can see him clearly under the kitchen lights. His hands are in the front pockets of his jeans, and his head drops forward, but his eyes leap up at me. I’m quite keen for the tinge of a cleft in his chin, and those lips are sinfully plump. His faint stubble beckons my fingertips, and I force myself not to imagine touching it. Those muscles that I have no name for clench again.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what, love?”
“Creep up on me. Why do you do that?”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that I had. Forgive me, Caroline. Dance?”
It’s hardly a request because his hand has seized mine, and we walk towards the door. “You dance?”
“You don’t?” he asks with a lopsided glance.
“Yes, but you don’t look like you dance.”
“Good! I’ve managed to surprise you. Point for me. Now it’s your turn.”
I stagger behind him until he pulls me into his hard chest. I have to force thoughts of Ryan—of Ryan and his pretty incredible chest.
As if preying on my private thoughts, a bluesy rendition of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” commands our stride and pace.
“Do you enjoy jazz?” Alec asks.
“If I say yes, do I get a point?”
He laughs a genuine snigger. “I’d have to say yes, since it’s unusual today. So what, Pitbull and Beyoncé are not your thing?”
“I told you already. My taste is eclectic.”
How is he so light on his feet, especially in those boots? Ryan’s dancing has a more sensual character, but it’s easy to imagine Alec in a suit and tie. Too easy, perhaps, because I want to ward off these repulsive thoughts, but he smells too good to try. I’m guessing a citrus mint body wash under musk and leather all wrapped in the woody haze from the fire. Oh God, I’m smelling him again. I should jump into the freezing Atlantic to escape this trance.
“Alec! You’re not performing tonight. What’s got you so distracted? The fire needs prodding.”
O’Something’s voice hauls me out from my reveries, and I notice Alec watching me closely—lost in his own state of bemusement.
“You can have the honour, mate. My hands are otherwise engaged,” he says, and I don’t like the sound of that so I move, initiating a much-needed gap between our bodies.
“You should go,” I say. “Sofie’s counting on
I tap on the green phone icon and find his name at the top of my favourites. We’ve only spoken once today, and now I miss him.
“There she is,” he says after a second ring.
“Hi. So, you miss me already?”
“Of course. Especially your lips—badly. I thought of them, too, a few times today.”
“Oh, really? And how did you manage?”
“Let’s just say business communication classes and market analysis helped numb the pain.”
I laugh, leaning against the counter.
“How are the lobsters?” he asks.
“Hey, that’s not all there is here. Don’t you diss it! Maine is beautiful. We should come here together.”
For one reason or another, I’m already regretting that statement.
“That sounds nice, baby. So tell me, what are the two of you up to tonight?”
Oh, nothing special really except I had eye sex with a stunning British guy.
“Sofie invited some acquaintances for drinks, and we’re sitting around a fire. You?” That was fairly honest. I give myself a mental high five before succumbing to the urge of slapping myself.
Ryan tells me about his training and schoolwork as I struggle to sound interested. My head feels heavy on my shoulders, and I run cold water and fill a glass. I manage a few words, hearing him but not truly listening, and succeed at not putting my indifference into words or sighs. My apathy upsets me, but I know it’s because I’m lazy on my feet. After amorous salutations, we end our conversation.
“So, you managed to escape?” Alec startles me.
I can see him clearly under the kitchen lights. His hands are in the front pockets of his jeans, and his head drops forward, but his eyes leap up at me. I’m quite keen for the tinge of a cleft in his chin, and those lips are sinfully plump. His faint stubble beckons my fingertips, and I force myself not to imagine touching it. Those muscles that I have no name for clench again.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what, love?”
“Creep up on me. Why do you do that?”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that I had. Forgive me, Caroline. Dance?”
It’s hardly a request because his hand has seized mine, and we walk towards the door. “You dance?”
“You don’t?” he asks with a lopsided glance.
“Yes, but you don’t look like you dance.”
“Good! I’ve managed to surprise you. Point for me. Now it’s your turn.”
I stagger behind him until he pulls me into his hard chest. I have to force thoughts of Ryan—of Ryan and his pretty incredible chest.
As if preying on my private thoughts, a bluesy rendition of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” commands our stride and pace.
“Do you enjoy jazz?” Alec asks.
“If I say yes, do I get a point?”
He laughs a genuine snigger. “I’d have to say yes, since it’s unusual today. So what, Pitbull and Beyoncé are not your thing?”
“I told you already. My taste is eclectic.”
How is he so light on his feet, especially in those boots? Ryan’s dancing has a more sensual character, but it’s easy to imagine Alec in a suit and tie. Too easy, perhaps, because I want to ward off these repulsive thoughts, but he smells too good to try. I’m guessing a citrus mint body wash under musk and leather all wrapped in the woody haze from the fire. Oh God, I’m smelling him again. I should jump into the freezing Atlantic to escape this trance.
“Alec! You’re not performing tonight. What’s got you so distracted? The fire needs prodding.”
O’Something’s voice hauls me out from my reveries, and I notice Alec watching me closely—lost in his own state of bemusement.
“You can have the honour, mate. My hands are otherwise engaged,” he says, and I don’t like the sound of that so I move, initiating a much-needed gap between our bodies.
“You should go,” I say. “Sofie’s counting on
Similar Books
