He starts frantically turning the packet in an attempt to find the ingredients. The constant movement only makes the putrid smell stronger.
‘It doesn’t matter; they’re still gross,’ I snap at him, harder than I meant to.
His eyes widen in shock at the outburst, before relaxing again. He brings the packet closer to himself, picking at them quietly as he focuses in on me with an intense, looming stare.
‘Cent for your thoughts?’ he asks.
His hazel eyes are so bright – piercing even – it’s mildly unsettling. I once again remind myself that this man is astranger. A stranger I met mere days ago. If Sara found out, she’d travel all the way here just to kill me.
I know that this is the bed I made. I knowIinvited myself along, but that doesn’t make me feel any less queasy. Maybe it’s the rashers, or the kiss, or perhaps the fact that I have not been able to stop thinking about his lips on my neck since it happened.
He attempts to tie the crisp bag shut, twisting the top so aggressively that his elbow knocks cleanly into my arm. I yelp at the impact, mostly out of sheer shock, and he drops the crisps to immediately come to my rescue. Within seconds his hand is on the skin, softly rubbing it as he professes his apologies. I can’t hear a word though; my mind is consumed by the feel of his fingers as they gently caress that small patch of flesh. I go so hot I feel woozy and I snatch my arm away, quickly reaching for my laptop in an attempt to style it out.
I can’t even look his way as I open a blank document.
‘If we’re going to do this, we need to do this right,’ I say, voice shaky. ‘We need rules, boundaries, a travel plan.’
Am and Noah’s Ground Rules
‘Is this necessary?’ he asks, peering over at the screen with his eyebrows raised.
‘You saw what nearly happened the other day! We have missions to complete and we can’t do it if we keep getting distracted.’
My eyes flit to that patch of skin, now noticeably colder without Noah’s touch. He smirks instantly. He knows what he’s done and it makes me flush just thinking about it.
‘True,’ he says. ‘Six months together and you’re bound to fall in love with me.’
He’s joking, of course. It’s too bold to be honest. But I felt my gut twist at the possibility.
‘See that right there – that’s what I’m talking about,’ I tut, typing the first numbered rule.
1. No flirting with each other.
He reads the words over my shoulder.
‘Okay, fair enough.’
I continue.
2. No physical activity.
‘None? We can’t even hug?’ he asks. I roll my eyes.
2. No extreme physical activity. Hugging = yes, Kissing = no.
‘Where do we stand on hand-holding?’ he asks, mouth twisted into a smirk.
‘I need you to be serious,’ I say as he shakes his head.
‘Fine.’ He reaches over to type one for himself.
I catch a whiff of his aftershave while his neck is stretched in front of my nose. It takes everything in me not to take one long, obvious sniff.
3. Separate beds, always.
I cheer. ‘That’s the spirit!’
‘Don’t act so pleased,’ he huffs.
