Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“Jamie set up a meeting for me with Benjamin Tulley to ask him some questions for my research.”
“He’s good in a pinch, our Jamie. When’d that happen?”
“He texted me when Nate and I were in Surrey.”
“Right. Your private chauffeur Nate.”
“Stop making a thing out of it. I needed a lift and he offered.”
“Twice.”
I grab a stack of shirts and shove them in my drawer. It’s my turn to avoid his gaze. “Is that a problem?”
I thought I’d kept my attraction to Nate well hidden for the most part. But if it’s become obvious to Jack, chances are others have noticed too.
And if Jack believes I’m chasing another girl’s boyfriend, what must he think of me?
Because he can’t be jealous.
That’d be silly. Right?
“Do whatever you like, Abbs.”
I catch him watching me in the mirror. “Next time I need a last-minute ride to the country, you’ll be my first call.”
“I like the blue one.” He comes to stand behind me with the dress in his hand. Slowly, I turn to accept it. “It looks nice on you.”
It’s back again, that insistent desire I’ve tried to tamp down. The one that makes me wonder what his hair feels like between my fingers. The ache to run my hands across his chest. To have his touch against my skin. It sneaks up on me. Blindsided.
How does he do that?
And why can’t I ever get a handle on what he’s feeling? I can never tell if I’m imagining the chemistry between us. If it’s just in his nature, his personality, to be flirtatious. Most of the time, I’m convinced that’s the case. But then he goes and looks at me like this, and I start to doubt myself.
He steps closer.
“What are you doing, Jack?” I ask through a dry throat.
“Not doing anything, Abbey.” But his eyes are gleaming with mischief and a few pints.
I gulp. “Lee wouldn’t like knowing we’re alone in here together.”
“No,” he agrees thickly. “I’m sure there’s a house rule time limit on having boys in your room.”
“If there isn’t, then there should be.”
A hint of a smile touches his lips. Then he licks them, and my heart rate triples. I’m not sure who moves first, but before I get a whole breath in, he’s got my hips pressed against my dresser with both hands and his lips are centimeters from mine.
“This is a bad idea,” Jack whispers.
“Terrible,” I whisper back.
“Just want one taste,” he mumbles, and then he kisses me.
His mouth is soft and warm as it covers mine, the slightest tang of English beer on his tongue. I grab two fistfuls of his shirt, twisting. Rising up on my toes to meet his kiss.
Who is this girl?
I don’t recognize myself. It’s like I’m watching from across the room, not entirely aware or in control. Jack flicks some instinctive switch in me, and my subconscious takes over.
He’s not at all hurried or forceful. Rather, it’s a slow, gentle exploration that makes my head go hazy. His tongue slicks over mine, caressing, teasing, then retreating so I have to chase it into his mouth with an anguished moan.
I’m falling into him, responding to his skillful touch, when suddenly he breaks the kiss and pulls back to leave me stunned and breathless.
Jack looks at me, silent, his expression impossible to discern.
“Yeah, I’m knackered. I’m off to bed,” he mutters before strolling out of my room.
The blue dress lies in a puddle on the floor.
I blink in confusion. It’s as though I imagined it. A blurry daydream staring into the glare of the sun, that moment when you’re caught in a brilliant blinding light before your eyes adjust to the dull surroundings.
What the hell was that?
20
I’VE BEEN A DISASTER ALL DAY. POURED COFFEE IN MY CEREAL AND squeezed hand lotion onto my toothbrush. I didn’t see Jack this morning, and I’m not sure if that made it better or worse. On my way to campus, I ran headlong into an angry Italian tourist because I was so distracted with replaying and reexamining the kiss that I didn’t see her until I had a mouthful of her scarf.
Even now as I sit in class, I stare at my notes and realize I’d written the date three times but not a word of what the professor has said for the last forty minutes.
Who does that? Sneaks up on a girl to lay a kiss on her with no context and then saunters off to bed?
It’s infuriating is what it is.
He’s got some nerve.
Stop acting like you hated it.
Fine. I didn’t hate the kiss. Not even a little bit.
But I had put the notion of Jack being an option out of my head. House rules and all. So what the hell do I do with these feelings he’s implanted in me? And thanks to him avoiding me this morning, I have no clue how he feels about it either. Then again, what else is new? I never know what Jack’s feeling.