AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m not certain Jack knows what he wants, but maybe it’s time I decide for the both of us. I’m done faffing about—I need to show him exactly what I want.
I send a quick text back:
See you then.
––––––––
IT’S A WELL-ESTABLISHEDfact that Jack Stanhope turns my insides to mush and agitates me to no end with his probing stares, quiet jokes, and teasing nature. But this time it’s going to be different.
It’s Friday night and I’m standing on Jack’s doorstep with confidence and purpose. I’ve arrived without my disguise. No wig, no heavy makeup, no sunglasses, no mask. Just me, just Leyna. I want everything out in the open—no more pretending.
I’m going to make Jack completely and unquestionably aware of what is on offer to him, if only he’ll allow himself.
Jack opens the door. A brief look of shock registers across his face and in that moment he knows exactly what’s happening. He knows it’s me and I know it’s him. He’s quiet, just standing there, staring at me, trying to figure out what to say. A quizzical look furrows his brow, although he’s much too polite to show me that and quickly wipes any trace of emotion from his face. By the time he speaks, he’s already composed himself and he surprises me. ‘Hello, Cinnamon.’
Is it wrong to love that he calls me by my stage name? So much for moving forward with honest identities. ‘May I come in?’ I smile cannily up at him.
‘Of course, of course. Apologies,’ and he steps out the way to let me pass.
I glance around his house. Is it me or are there way more paintings everywhere? Just stacked in corners, left leaning against chairs. ‘You’ve been busy,’ I say, nodding towards the canvases strewn all over the place.
He makes a low sound, like a grunt of acknowledgement. The strange thing is, they’re mostly flowers, which I find surprising for someone who tends to do portraits. It’s a lot of flowers.
‘You should have come to my youth club this week. Had I known you were so good at painting flowers, I would have invited you. You could have given a lesson on florals, since that was this week’s theme.’
He looks at me long and hard, an internal monologue I can only guess at, and ignores my comment. ‘Your hair... You’re not...’ he struggles to find the right words. I know exactly what he’s trying to say. He’s searching for the right way to say: ‘You’re not wearing a wig and sunglasses and I don’t know what game we’re playing here anymore.’
I don’t mind holding all the cards—in fact, I’m keen to toy with him, just as I did last time. ‘I didn’t feel like wearing it,’ I say nonchalantly, as though all of this is completely normal.
‘I was just finishing... Downstairs, in the kitchen... Would you like to join me?’
He’s not actually said a full sentence yet and I’m not really sure what he’s asking me to do but I smile and follow him, down a set of stairs to the kitchen and to the ground floor. I’ve always admired these houses, but have never been inside one, except for the other time I was here. I never really got to see the rest of the house on that occasion. Taking my time to look now, it’s beautifully decorated and charming, not at all what I expected as Jack’sbachelor pad.
The kitchen is gorgeous, a combination of English arts and crafts design with a modern twist. Earthy colours, taupe, dusky mustard, and rich browns stand out. It has a warm, cosy feel about it with the small wood fire burning in one end of the room.
I can’t help but think it’s so much space for one person and that it must feel lonely at times.
Now I can see what he was mumbling about in a disjointed way, trying to not say my name, I expect. He was part of the way through a glass of wine, possibly not his first, and he offers me a glass. My instinct is to say no, but I ignore it. This is no ordinary evening. It already has a peculiar feel to it so far and my curiosity gets the better of me, so I say yes to the drink.
I watch him pour the rich, velvety liquid. We both take a sip, enjoying the warming effect, and we stand there until the silence is so uncomfortable I can bear it no longer. ‘Did you want to head upstairs,’ I ask, only realising my gaffe as soon as the words leave my lips. I should have suffered the silence.
His eyes widen and turn dark. He walks over to me so that we’re but an arm’s length apart.
‘We can,’ he replies slowly. ‘After.’
‘After what?’
‘After we have a little chat. To be honest, Leyna, I wasn’t entirely sure you were going to come over tonight.’
I’m genuinely surprised. He wasn’t sure I was going to come over? Of course I was going to come over. After that kiss the other day, all I’ve wanted to do was come over. And over, and over.
I take a sip of the wine. ‘What made you think that?’ I play coy with him. Might as well enjoy this, whateverthisis.
‘Because I kissed you. At work. In the wood.’
He is so close to me now. I can feel the heat emanating from his body. I can smell his scent, an intoxicating melange of pine, lavender, and rosemary.
‘I thought I kissed you.’ It was a blatant lie. We both know he kissed me first. But I can’t resist taunting him here like this, in his home, where he’s so open and vulnerable. My heart is pounding and I’m certain he can feel it because he’s so goddamn close to me. ‘Like this,’ and I close the minute gap between our bodies and press my lips against his, gently. Teasing.
