“Then what are you saying?” She takes another step towards me.
“You’re my best friend’s little sister. A guy just doesn’t go there.”
“And yet, you went there. Well, to third base at least.” Now she’s got me backed up against the wall until we’re almost touching.
“Christ, don’t. I know what I did. And I’m trying to fix it.” I can feel sweat breaking out on my forehead.
“Not sure there’s any way to put the genie back in the bottle, Josh.” She edges closer, her perfect tits brushing my chest.
“Stop it,” I hiss as I step out from between Greer and the wall, backing away. “Like I said at the pub, it’s inappropriate and can’t happen. Harry would have my head on a spike and my balls shoved down my throat in two seconds flat if he knew.”
That gets a laugh. Which was not my intention.
“It’s not funny. We have to work together on getting these house plans done. If I pull out now, they’ll all wonder why. I need you to promise me there’ll be no more flirting. And looking like—that.” I wave my hand up and down in front of her. “And no more kissing.”
Her eyes, bright with humour and a hint of stubbornness a moment ago, are now serious, the smile slowly slipping down her face until it’s a frown. She looks dejected, as though the idea of not being able to finish what she has started and seeing the house through to completion hurts, but she doubles down. Her expression rallies as she crosses her arms in front of her.
“I don’t think that’s a promise I can keep. And I don’t think you’ll be able to keep it either.” It’s a challenge I know I have to win.
“I can and I will. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. Whatever you thought you felt, well, it was a momentary lapse of judgement. And there won’t be another one. Ever.” My jaw is so tight my teeth are starting to ache, and I can feel a pulse throbbing in my temple. “I mean it.”
Her eyes narrow as her cheeks start to flame.
“Right. Well, I can keep my hands to myself if you can,” she tosses at me. “You’re not that irresistible, you know.” I know she’s hurt, but there’s anger there too. Hopefully, she’ll feed on that.
“Good. So, friends?” I ask, more hopeful than expectant.
“Sure. If that’s what you think you want.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want. This is the way it has to be.” Without another word, I turn and head back to the media room.
Shit. In my typical selfish style, I’ve made a mess. I’ve betrayed my oldest friend. And the only people who ever showed me any real affection. And I’ve hurt the one person in the world I wish I hadn’t. Oh, and let’s not forget I’ve bruised my own stupid heart in the process.
Fuck my life.
Chapter Fourteen
Greer
AftertheconfrontationwithJosh in my old bedroom—thank God I had redecorated and taken down all the One Direction and 5SOS posters years ago—I let Will know I’m ready to head off whenever he is and we say our goodbyes.
I’m relieved we came with Will. If we’d come alone, as originally planned, the drive home would’ve been awkward as hell. Oblivious, Will keeps up a running commentary planning all the shenanigans they’ll get up to once Josh moves in with him, so my silence isn’t noticed. Although, I do catch Josh looking at me over his shoulder more than once.
If he thinks he’s had the last word, he can bloody well think again.Just friendsmy arse. I might not have much experience with men, but I know what I see in Josh’s eyes. What I feel in his fingers and his lips when he touches me. And it’s not common garden-variety lust. If I thought that was all it was, I might take him at his word. But there’s something there, something deep. And I know in my heart he feels it too. I come from a long line of stubbornness, and as much as I wish he would hurry up and recognise the inevitability of us being together, I’m prepared to wait him out.
I spend the next couple of weeks slogging through interviews, psych tests and panel ambushes, looking for the perfect job. My New York internship has set me up pretty well as a ‘saleable’ commodity, as the recruiters say, and in the end I have three offers to choose from. Like everything, each has pros and cons, and after a long video chat with my New York mentor I settle on the one with the best creative fit, even though it’s not the highest paid.
Conlan and Covey specialise in sustainable and energy efficient architecture, which is one of my passions. They’re also doing a lot of work in the public and low-cost housing sector, which is a big draw for me. And the managing director, Jonathan Covey, is not only brilliant, but he’s also friendly and laid-back, and the office is within walking distance from my place. I’m sold.
Adding icing on the cake, Jonathan is happy for me to supervise the build on Josh’s house when I start working for them. I showed him the blueprints during my final interview, and he was impressed, which gave me a lot of confidence. It’s with the council now, and all we’re waiting on is their approval to get started.
Between interviews and tinkering with the plans, I've done a bit of power shopping. I’ll need a better business wardrobe than the couple of suits I’ve been getting by with, even though Conlan and Covey seem pretty casual. My dad always says, dress for the job you want, not the one you have, and the job I want is Jonathan’s—Conlan, Covey and Carter has a certain alliterative ring to it—so I need some sharp suits and power dresses to look the part.
I haven’t seen Josh since our awful conversation in my bedroom. I emailed any changes he wanted to my drawings, and he emailed back comments and approvals. Once they went to council, there wasn’t much to discuss other than minor details and thoughts about builders and timing.
Today I want Josh to meet Dave, the builder I’d like to use for the job. He worked on my flat and has done a bit of work for Mum and Dad over the years. I trust him implicitly, which is important because I won’t have time to micromanage the build once I start work.
We agree to meet at eight, and I’m there before Josh and Dave, with a coffee for each of them and a peppermint tea for me. Even though it’s nearly spring, the mornings can still be cold.
