James.
I draw the blinds, shutting out the rest of the world. I trudge upstairs to my bathroom, pausing briefly to run my fingers through my hair. Anna’s handiwork is flawless. I love the curls, so I make the executive decision to gather then into a silk scrunchie on top of my head, preserving the style and skipping the shampoo.
I freshen up and release my waves, watching them bounce perfectly back into place. I change into a pair of fluffy bed socks, tartan pyjama pants, and a plain top. Basil scampers after me downstairs, the sound of his little paws quick on the steps. I almost drool when I reach the lounge, encased with all the glorious scents.
I’m poking through the pantry in search of crisps when my phonepings.I spin and I grab it off the counter, glancing at the messages.
Gemma:Well? How did it go?
Anna:Are you okay?
I smile widely upon seeing their names and quickly type a reply:Surprisingly well. I feel so much better. I’ll tell you guys about it when I see you this week. I’m wrecked. Thanks so much for last night. Love you both, xx
Setting my phone back on the counter, I pluck my crisps from the cupboard and tear the packet open. I’m tits-deep in a new TV series when the doorbell rings. Reluctantly, I toss my crisp packet aside and, with a groan, I stand to open the door.
“Swear to God, if this is some Jehovah’s Witness bullshit …,” I mutter under my breath as I shuffle towards the front door. I swing it open and freeze.
He swallows, shifting on his feet, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck.Fuck, he looks so good my ovaries almost explode.
He’s in plain black joggers that cling to his thick thighs, his top stretching across his broad chest. And—Jesus Christ—a beanie.
A fucking beanie.
If there’s one thing in the world that could bring me to my knees, it’s a man in a beanie. His sandy waves peek out from underneath, just enough to make me weak. His cheeks are flushed—I suspect from rushing in the heat—and I can’t stop staring.
Tears well in my eyes before I can stop them as shame barrels through me, reminding me of my behaviour from yesterday morning.
“James,” I say, my voice desperate. He lifts a hand to my cheek, brushing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion. The warmth of his touch makes my breath catch.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his left dimple deepening.
“I’m so sorry …” My voice cracks.
He cradles my head in his hands. “Hey, hey …” He bends so we’re eye-to-eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, leaning in to rest his forehead against mine. He kisses the tip of my nose, and butterflies erupt wildly in my stomach.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” he asks gently, and I nod.
“Good,” he says. “Because it would have been extremely humiliating if you rejected me,” he adds with a smirk.
I close my eyes with a chuckle, stepping aside to let him in. He slips past me, and even with the candles burning, I catch the scent of him drifting through the room.
I follow him to the sofa and plop down, crossing my legs underneath me. James casually throws his arm over the back of the sofa as he sinks into the cushions. Basil jumps up, nuzzling against James’s arm. James gives him a gentle pat, a smile ghosting over his lips as Basil purrs madly.
He turns his gaze to me, his expression tender. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or text yesterday or this morning. I thought you might have wanted some space.”
This thoughtful, beautiful man.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” I whisper, leaning in to place my hand gently on his thigh.
I need him to understand. His gaze falls to where my fingers rest, and I can’t resist the urge to study him. The dancing candlelight contrasts the sharp angle of his jaw, his plump, kissable mouth, and the shadow of stubble on his face.
His green eyes connect with mine, covering my hand with his own.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
He’s so kind, which is far more than I deserve after what I said.
I need to tell him why I freaked out, why I pushed him away. I need to tell him about Lucas’s message, and that I’m ready to move on. With him. He deserves to know everything. “I have a lot to say, if that’s alright?” I ask.
