‘Nah. You wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me.’
‘From around your neck, maybe.’
‘I know I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.’
‘Well... that’s probably a little closer to the truth,’ I reply snippily. Even though I feel slightly mollified, it doesn’t hurt to hear he finds me desirable. ‘I have to get back to work.’Before I say anything else ridiculous.
‘I could come around and help?’
‘Oh, tempting,’ I reply even though I sound like I mean the opposite.
‘I’m a connoisseur of porn—I could consult.’
‘All for a small fee?’
‘I’m sure we could come to some arrangement,’ he replies, his tone back to smoky. ‘We could make it mutually beneficial. What do you say?’
‘I’d say you’re pushing your luck, and I’m hanging up now.’
‘You don’t know what you’re missing.’
‘Goodbye, Flynn,’ I reply right before I hitend.
~*~
Sometime later, the doorbell rings, which is strange enough. I don’t get many callers, not without a prior arrangement, at any rate. I glance at the clock on my screen and realise three hours have passed since Flynn called. But it’s not quite eight yet, so maybe it’s a package. Or, as has happened before, a takeaway delivery to the wrong address.
When I open the door, I discover its none of those things. Except, I suppose it’s the kind of package I want, even if I seldom admit it to myself, because Flynn Phillipsisthe full package.
Standing on my doorstep, a black leather jacket coats his broad shoulder, dark denim clinging to long legs, the same boots from hisMellorsgig completing the rugged look. I don’t know whether it’s the sight of him standing there or his cocky grin, but the words that fall from my mouth aren’t exactly sane.
‘You really don’t miss a trick, do you?’ I push the door wider, one hand on the door handle, the other on my hip. And then I realise what a state I must look. Boyfriend jeans turned up at the ankle to hide the ragged seams, though there’s no concealing the holes in the knees.I didn’t buy them like this. They’re just old.As is the tatty man’s shirt I’m wearing. Pink, of all colours—my complexion doesn’t like pink.
‘What...’ I stop myself from continuing as I notice he appears to be holding something behind his back. Do Ireallywant to know? ‘What are you hiding?’ Apparently, the answer to that is yes.
‘Duchess,’ he says, his mouth curved in his perma-cheeky grin. ‘This is where you’ve got to play along—be a little creative. I know you’ve got it in you, or at least you will have, if things go to plan.’
‘I’m not having sex with you today,’ I blurt out.
‘But we’re good for tomorrow, right?’ In the absence of trusting my own words, I just shake my head. ‘Hang on, we’re gonna start again.’
‘Start what again?’ I ask, exasperated. This is the Flynn Phillips’ effect. One minute, I want to kiss him, and the next, slap him across the face.
‘Play along. Look—I’m ringing your bell.’
‘You’re—’ Apparently, he’s a man of his word, though why he’s ringing my doorbell when I’m righthereand the door isopen, I don’t know.
‘Oh, whoever can that be?’ I ask, deadpan.
Flynn stares at me with a playful kind of intensity, the kind of look that makes my heart skip a beat, sending the pulse elsewhere. And then I notice his arms moving as though to reveal what’s behind his back. A motorbike helmet.Jesús, María y José,the man rides a motorbike.Of course, he does,my consciousness cries because apparently, God is laughing at you today!
Definitely laughing as his other hand reveals a pizza box emblazed with the name of my local Italian joint.
‘Pizza delivery.’ The words sound like a taunt as I bring a hand to my mouth and begin to chuckle. A chuckle that turns to the kind of laughter that has me clutching my sides
‘Surprised?’ Flynn asks, his gaze still filled with the same kind of confidence, the same kind of daring. I notice the skin around his eyes is creased in the outer corners, as though he’d spent his childhood laughing and running around in the sun.
‘Just a little.’
