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His jaw is clenched so tight he can barely answer, but he manages a nod and a grunted, “Yes.”
“Uhh…Alex is straight.” And why does he care if I fancy Alex anyway?
“You told Keegan you have a crush on someone who doesn’t like you back,” Tom reminds me. “Is it Alex?”
I feel my face flaming and I glance away for a moment before steeling myself enough to look back at him. “Why is this important?”
“It just is,” he says with a pout that makes him look so much like Keegan I’m finding it hard not to burst out laughing.?
“Holy shit. You’re jealous,” I realise, eyes bugging out of my head.?
“What? No I’m not!”
I nod emphatically as everything falls into place. “Yes you are. Admit it—youlikedit when I flirted with you. You told me to stop, so I did, and you’ve been a moody fucker ever since. Now you’re taking out your frustration on poor Alex because you think I’ve moved on to him.”
His eyes narrow at my words. “So youareinto Alex?”
I let out a groan of frustration and throw my hands up. “Seriously? Are you really that blind? Do I actually have to beat you over the head with my cock for you to realise how into you I am? Because I’ll do it,” I insist. “Don’t think I won’t.”
He just stares at me, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “You’re…seriously? But—I’m so old…”
I roll my eyes. “Thirty-seven isnotold, Tom.”
“It is compared to nineteen,” he grumbles. “I’m twice your age.”
“Now, maybe,” I say with a shrug. “In five years you won’t be. And in ten years, I’ll be two thirds your age. It’s called maths, babe.”
He gazes at me, still looking utterly bewildered.
“Oh my god, you’re adorable,” I say with a teasing grin.
He scowls at me. “I’m not adorable.”
“Yes you are,” I say in a sing-song voice.?
“No, I’m not. I’m—”
I cut him off by stepping towards him and crashing my lips to his. It’s completely impulsive and dumb, but, hey, when have I ever thought stuff like this through?
He’s still for a moment, and then he grabs my neck and starts kissing me back. Holy shit, Tom Whitford—the object of all my youthful fantasies—is kissing me back.
I’ve wanted this forever, but even more since I’ve actually gotten to know the man. And now it’s happening.
I delve in deeper with my tongue, groaning into his mouth as we devour each other. He tastes amazing. I could easily get addicted to this. To him. But then, just as I’m really getting into it—rocking my hips against his, roaming my hands all over his body—he tears his lips from mine and pushes me away, a look of horror on his face.
“What? No. No, no, no, no,” he rambles, shaking his head furiously.
Oh fuck.
“Tom, I—”
“I’ll see you later.” And with that he turns around and tugs open the garage door, leaving me standing dumbstruck in the middle of his hallway.
“But—this is your house!”
And what does he mean by ‘later’? Am I supposed to stay here and wait for him? I’m going to assume the answer to that is no. Considering the way he just bolted out of here like his arse was on fire, I’m guessing he won’t be thrilled if he comes home to find me squatting in his kitchen.
I am such a fucking twat. I can’t believe I kissed him. I kissed Tom and ruined our friendship all because I thought he might be jealous. Clearly I can’t read people for shit. He literally told me he wasn’t jealous and I pushed it anyway.
