Seventeen
‘Youshould’veseentheother guy,’ Jasper said, when I opened the front door to him at nine fifty-nine the next morning.
I’d given a huge gasp at first. The black lines beneath his eyes seemed darker, deeper and wider this morning than they had appeared yesterday. But now I laughed and so did he. As usual, since the broken nose, he soon regretted that.
‘Are you taking pain killers?’ I asked, stepping aside to let him in.
‘No. They gave me some at the hospital but I haven’t taken any today. Yet.’
‘Does it hurt a lot?’
‘Only when I laugh. Or sneeze. That really hurts. Or breathe.’
‘So that’s a yes then?’
‘Pretty much. How’s your shoulder?’
‘It doesn’t hurt at all, thanks.’
He shook his head and pretended to curse under his breath.
‘Life can be so unfair at times.’
‘True,’ I said.
And then, as if he’d tempted Fate, I tripped over his ladder and fell backwards against his chest.
I heard the ‘thrump’, and the shot of pain in my head told me I had come into contact with a hard part of his body, as did the ‘Arghh’ he let out.
But he held me in his arms and stopped me from falling further, and when I managed to regain my footing and turned to face him, he was rubbing his chin with one hand.
‘I’m so sorry, Jasper. I didn’t do that on purpose. Honestly.’
‘Well, at least the bruise will match the others,’ he said. ‘So thanks for that.’
And then he looked down into my eyes and I realised he still had one arm around me even though I’d swivelled around to face him.
Tingles of excitement ran up and down my spine as we stared at one another for several seconds. Then his eyes scanned my face, my neck, and my cleavage. I’d worn a slightly lower cut sundress today in the very hope that it would attract his attention. And it had.
But his gaze soon returned to my face. I could tell he was looking at my lips as intently as I was looking at his.
When he sucked in a quiet breath and half closed his eyes for a brief moment, I was sure he was going to kiss me.
‘I’ve been told to avoid contact sports,’ he said, his voice sounding deeper, sexier, and slightly breathless. ‘Apparently, the medical profession considers kissing a contact sport, or so the doctor at the hospital informed me.’
I looked into his eyes. ‘Sorry,’ I said, a frisson of excitement making me feel a little giddy.
‘Me too.’
I gave him a friendly smile to try to reduce the sexual tension between us, and turned slowly in his arm and went to walk away.
But he tightened his grip and somehow twisted me back to face him and then he looked into my eyes again and bent his head to kiss me.
It had the makings of being one of the best kisses I’d ever had. But it was also one of the briefest.
‘Oww,’ he said, removing his mouth from mine moments after I’d felt how soft and tender and yet how powerful, passionate, and positively addictive his lips were. ‘I should’ve listened to the doctor. Sorry I’m such a wimp.’
‘You’re not a wimp,’ I said feeling more frustrated than I’d ever felt in my life. ‘But out of interest. How long did he tell you to ... refrain from contact sports for?’
