But I can’t deny I’m relieved that she felt comfortable enough to confide in me.
“You look nothing like him, you know?” she says, her eyes still trained on mine.
“No?”
“No.” She shakes her head slightly, as if she wasn’t entirely sure why those words escaped her lips. Her hands fidget nervously in her lap. I cover them with my own once more to stop her from feeling embarrassed.
“I’m here because I want to be, April. I want you to be okay.”
“Why?” she whispers.
“Because I care,” I say. “I want to help. Sometimes you just have to accept that things aren’t meant to be and start living again, letting go of those who no longer need you. To stop waiting for the one who will never come back. To realise that loving hopelessly is not enough. You need and deserve to beloved in return. This is only the start of a new chapter. Try to embrace what it can bring. I was absent after Abi and I broke up, and I struggled with things. But it got better … It’s all changed now. My life started up again.”
A lone tear traces a path down her cheek. “I wish I’d been enough for him,” she whispers.
I duck my head, level with hers. “You are enough, April. You’re more than enough,” I say.
She sniffles, looking down.
“Just you wait,” I tell her. “Some lucky prick is going to find you and have enough sense to not let you go. Can you imagine being loved the wayyoulove?”
I instinctively raise my hand to sweep away her tear. Time stands still as she swallows and locks her watery gaze with mine. I don’t know why I do it, but hesitation doesn’t stir. My fingertips graze her cheek, tracing the soft skin before tangling in her hair. Drawn by an invisible force, she leans closer, and I close my eyes briefly. She smells so fucking good, like coconut and vanilla.
I watch as she brings one of her hands to encircle my wrist, holding me in place. I focus on her parted lips.
She looks like sin.
I mirror her actions, leaning in closer until we’re only centimetres apart. With her eyes closed, she presses her forehead against mine, her hand trailing over my leg as she draws lazy circles. I fight back a groan as she moves her hand closer to my zipper, inch by inch, and my dick hardens.
I keep our foreheads pressed together as I tentatively lift my other hand, letting my fingertips trail down the nape of her neck before slowly descending over her shoulder. I move lower over the silk fabric until I reach her breast. Cupping it in my hand, I run my thumb over her nipple. It hardens under my touch, and she gasps.
My hand drifts from her breast to her legs, and our knees bump before I slide my hand between her thighs.
“Open.”
She parts her legs without hesitation, and I press forward until my hand cups her heat. Slowly, I press the heel of my palm into her. A loud, desperate moan spills from her lips and I freeze.
April’s eyes fly open, meeting mine. She stares at me with a dazed expression.
I pull away abruptly and stand, putting much needed distance between us.
What the fuck am I doing? Stupid. Fucking stupid.
April gradually rises from the sofa with a look of horror on her face.
“James … I?—”
“I should go.” I look down and take in the obvious erection straining against my jeans before I clear my throat. “Thank you for the tea.”
“That’s okay,” she says softly, frowning as I march to the front door.
I stop, glancing over my shoulder at her. “We’re friends, right, April?”
The question slips out more to ease the guilt nagging at me for touching her, especially after she let her guard down.
“Friends,” she repeats, her shoulders slumping. Her voice is somewhere between uncertainty and something more … Maybe hurt.
I yank open the door and leave without a second glance. I continue walking briskly until I reach the end of her street. Only then do I stop and order a car.
