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Four
Jamie
I snuggle into the arms wrapped around me as lips brush over my shoulder, and for a split second, I imagine warm caramel eyes, but the illusion is broken as a voice whispers in my ear.
“Hmmm, you smell good. I think it’s time for round…what is it, four?”
My eyes snap open as Jasper’s hand glides up from my stomach, cupping my breast and tweaking my nipple.
Fuck. After seeing Seb, and despite my reluctance to get involved with Jasper, I left with him. Let him have my body, more than once. But now, once again, I’m regretting my decision. A shiver runs through my body as Jasper continues teasing my breast, and I twist in his arms to face him.
“I’m sorry, Jasper, no can do. I need be somewhere in”—I lift my wrist to check the time— “an hour. How about a rain check?” I watch as disappointment crosses his face before he smiles wide and kisses me on the nose.
“Okay, beautiful. How about dinner tonight? I’ll cook, and then I can spend the rest of the evening feasting on every inch of your body.”
“How about I call you when I’ve finished what I need to do, and then we’ll talk?” I tell him as I push out of his arms and climb from the bed.
I hastily search for my clothes and dress, and all the while I curse myself for my foolish decision to come home with Jasper, who stretches out in the bed, arms behind his head, watching me.
Looking up at him once I’m dressed, I ask, “What?” Without meaning to, I scan his body, and let’s be honest here, it’s a nice freaking body. If I’m even more honest he seems like a great guy. He’s got a good job, and I should want to date him. So why the fuck don’t I? I would say I don’t know the answer to that question, but it would be a complete lie. I do know, but I just don’t want to face it, talk about it, or even think about it.
“Just admiring the view. It’s mighty fine, you know?”
“Yeah, well the view from here isn’t so bad either. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.” Then I turn and leave.
I wasn’t lying about the view. He’s hot, if a little clingy, but I don’t do feelings.
Not for anyone.
* * *
The house isempty when I get home. Of course it is because it’s just me now. Cam moved in with Ryder a few weeks after our weekend in Durham, and whilst I’m happy for them both, I’m lonely. And I have far too much time for my brain to think, which is not a good thing.
I dash up the stairs, needing to scrub my skin clean, and remove every trace of my night with Jasper. After my shower, skin blanched and red from scrubbing so hard, I dress in a pair of ripped black jeans and a grey t-shirt with the slogan ‘If my mouth doesn’t say it, my face definitely will’. This t-shirt is perfect for where I’m going. I throw my crazy hair up in a messy bun and grab my white pumps and slouch bag as I leave the room.
On the drive to town my phone rings several times, followed by a series of pings when I don’t answer. I know who it is without even looking, and if I don’t reply or call her soon, she’s going to turn up on my doorstep.
Despite the fact Cam is due to give birth any time now, it won’t stop her. If anything, it scares me even more. Never anger a pregnant woman because it’s insanely dangerous for your health.
Once I pull up at the restaurant where I’m meeting my dad, I quickly type out a message to Cam promising to call later. I put the phone on silent and shove it in my bag before she can reply.
Stepping into the restaurant, I’m greeted by a young, twenty-something girl who leads me to a table near the back of the room. My dad is already there and looks up as we approach, and even though he smiles, it doesn’t reach his eyes, which are ringed with dark circles. Getting to his feet, he pulls me in for a hug when I reach him. I inhale the comforting scent that is all my dad, and I heave out a sigh, relaxing somewhat.
After dropping a kiss to my head, we pull apart and sit at the table. Before we get a chance to speak, the waitress comes over with menus and takes our drinks order.
“Dad, how are you? You look like you’re not sleeping enough.”
“I’m fine, Jamie. Work has been keeping me busy, besides, you don’t need to worry about me,” he tells me, a soft smile lining his mouth.
“Seriously? That’s the line you’re going with. Okay, fine.” The waitress returns with our drinks, and I immediately pick up my wine, taking a huge gulp. My father eyes me as I place it back on the table. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing.” He pauses like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. “What about you, how’s work?”
He’s a fool if he thinks I don’t know what he’s doing. After all, I learnt all my best deflection strategies from him.
“Work is fine, Dad.” This is the most awkward conversation I’ve had with my dad, and that includes the birds and the bees chat he gave me when I was a teenager. I watch him and can see the gears of his mind working to figure out the best way to say whatever it is he’s called me here for. Deciding to make it easier for him, I say, “Spit it out, Dad. Mum called you, didn’t she?”
He flinches making it obvious I’m right. “It wasn’t like that, Jamie. She’s worried about you. You won’t return any of her calls. She just wants to talk.”
